Don't change a winning formula... even if that formula seems to come from superstitions.
FM19 - The Great Glasgow Alternative
Recently retired hard man Roy Scully ventures north of the border for his first job in management. Steve Gerrard, he ain't.
- POSTS135
- VIEWS26734
- FOLLOWERS3
Put the jacket up-front, you'll win by even more In all honesty, I've been keeping up with the story of late and it's been a sensational read as it always is from yourself.
Thanks, Jack ... always nice to hear you're enjoying! And yes, Scott, superstition can be fun.
___
“Okay, you did this to me,” Roy laughed as he removed his track top in the coaches’ changing room after the match.
Litmanen just smiled.
“I guess I am superstitious,” Roy admitted. “I was going to leave this on the coach and wear a warmer coat but you left me no choice.”
It had been a raw, windy day and Roy was chilled. He sat down and picked up a cup of hot coffee from a beverage tray.
“We’re going to have to get you something else to wear,” Litmanen said. “We can’t have the boss catching cold.”
It was a joke – Roy thought so, anyway – but there were players who were also starting to get into habits they weren’t willing to break as long as the team was playing well.
It was a long trip home and that gave Roy a chance to warm up as he thought ahead.
Next up was a winnable match at home against Queen of the South in a week’s time, but following that was a matchup people were starting to look forward to – the Betfred Cup quarterfinal against Dundee United.
The team was off to the good start everyone craved – thirteen points from fifteen had the Jags level on points with Ross County at the top of the table – but the prospect a return matchup against the Terrors was one that had set imaginations going.
Kate had sent Roy a video of the girls listening to the match on Jags Radio – they were in their kit and jumped
all over the sitting room after Adrianinho had scored – and it made him smile. He missed all his best girls and he was glad to be going home.
“Don’t forget to bring that lucky jacket,” Kate had teased. Roy wasn’t about to leave it behind.
It was early evening by the time the team coach pulled back into Glasgow and Roy sent the players home with the following day off as a victory day.
Then it was time for him to return as the conquering hero. Whether he had won or lost, the reaction was always the same.
That was the best part – in the eyes of his girls, Daddy always won whether or not the score had been favorable.
So he scooped up the kids, gave them hugs, and advanced to his wife, who was sitting at the dinner table.
“I have a great idea,” she said, rising to greet her husband. “How about we get a sitter and you take me out to celebrate?”
“You’re so old-fashioned,” Roy teased. “Expecting me to look after you.”
“Tell me you wouldn’t,” she said, taking his arm as they headed for the sitting room.
“Okay, okay, you win,” he smiled. “Let me get my phone and you pick the place.”
# # #
___
“Okay, you did this to me,” Roy laughed as he removed his track top in the coaches’ changing room after the match.
Litmanen just smiled.
“I guess I am superstitious,” Roy admitted. “I was going to leave this on the coach and wear a warmer coat but you left me no choice.”
It had been a raw, windy day and Roy was chilled. He sat down and picked up a cup of hot coffee from a beverage tray.
“We’re going to have to get you something else to wear,” Litmanen said. “We can’t have the boss catching cold.”
It was a joke – Roy thought so, anyway – but there were players who were also starting to get into habits they weren’t willing to break as long as the team was playing well.
It was a long trip home and that gave Roy a chance to warm up as he thought ahead.
Next up was a winnable match at home against Queen of the South in a week’s time, but following that was a matchup people were starting to look forward to – the Betfred Cup quarterfinal against Dundee United.
The team was off to the good start everyone craved – thirteen points from fifteen had the Jags level on points with Ross County at the top of the table – but the prospect a return matchup against the Terrors was one that had set imaginations going.
Kate had sent Roy a video of the girls listening to the match on Jags Radio – they were in their kit and jumped
all over the sitting room after Adrianinho had scored – and it made him smile. He missed all his best girls and he was glad to be going home.
“Don’t forget to bring that lucky jacket,” Kate had teased. Roy wasn’t about to leave it behind.
It was early evening by the time the team coach pulled back into Glasgow and Roy sent the players home with the following day off as a victory day.
Then it was time for him to return as the conquering hero. Whether he had won or lost, the reaction was always the same.
That was the best part – in the eyes of his girls, Daddy always won whether or not the score had been favorable.
So he scooped up the kids, gave them hugs, and advanced to his wife, who was sitting at the dinner table.
“I have a great idea,” she said, rising to greet her husband. “How about we get a sitter and you take me out to celebrate?”
“You’re so old-fashioned,” Roy teased. “Expecting me to look after you.”
“Tell me you wouldn’t,” she said, taking his arm as they headed for the sitting room.
“Okay, okay, you win,” he smiled. “Let me get my phone and you pick the place.”
# # #
It seems like I'm a bit of an idiot :D
___
Shelley stood in the doorway to Roy’s den with a worried look on her face.
He was sat watching video. Kate always did her best to keep the kids entertained for that hour or so in the evenings when Roy was doing that particular work, so he could concentrate.
As such, he tried to make his video time for when the kids were in bed – but that cut down on his time with Kate and wasn’t always satisfactory.
So, on this night he was working right after dinner. As the door opened and Shelley edged her way inside, Roy turned to her. He might ordinarily have been slightly annoyed at the interruption, but he saw his daughter’s distress and instead simply opened his arms.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, pausing his video. “What’s wrong?”
Shelley approached, climbed into her dad’s lap and put her head on his shoulder.
She then floored him.
“Daddy, what’s a Hun?” she asked.
Roy’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and seemed like they would hide in his hair.
“Where on earth did you hear that?” he asked.
At school,” she said. “Tommy called Ian a Hun. Ian called Tommy a Tim and then they got into a fight.”
Roy collected his thoughts. But the five-year old thought faster.
“I hear you call Mommy ‘hun’,” she said. “Does that mean Tommy loves Ian?”
Roy smiled, thrown completely off his stroke.
“It means something different when I say it to your mum,” he said. “But when football people do it, it’s very bad. And I’m pretty sure Tommy does not love Ian.”
“But what does it mean?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s a bad name used among two sets of fans and it’s language that can get you banned from school,” he said. “They are words you should never, ever use.”
Roy resented having to teach a five-year old girl about sectarian language and really had no idea how he would explain the big rivalry in Glasgow other than to say that some people just took it too far. Kids fighting on a playground meant there were home issues that needed sorting, given how it all started.
So he tried a different tactic.
“Why are you sad, sweetheart?” he asked.
“I like them,” she said. “I didn’t want to see them fight.”
Roy thought briefly about trying to explain why West Ham hates Millwall and vice-versa. But she was too young to understand, and surely wouldn’t have remembered anything from Roy’s playing days as she was even younger then.
He hugged his daughter tight.
“Well,” he said, “don’t be sad. I’m sure your teachers and the principal have talked with Ian and Tommy and their parents and I bet it won’t happen again. Just remember that words can hurt someone just as much as a fight can. And those are two words you should never, ever say.”
“I know, Daddy,” she said. “I see people crying on the playground sometimes. They get teased and I just want to go help them.”
“Kids can be cruel,” Roy thought to himself, “in the worst possible ways. But your heart’s in the right place.”
“I’m glad nobody called you names,” she said, snuggling in tight to Roy’s shoulder.
“Little does she know,” Roy thought to himself. For now, though, a short but important lesson had been taught.
# # #
___
Shelley stood in the doorway to Roy’s den with a worried look on her face.
He was sat watching video. Kate always did her best to keep the kids entertained for that hour or so in the evenings when Roy was doing that particular work, so he could concentrate.
As such, he tried to make his video time for when the kids were in bed – but that cut down on his time with Kate and wasn’t always satisfactory.
So, on this night he was working right after dinner. As the door opened and Shelley edged her way inside, Roy turned to her. He might ordinarily have been slightly annoyed at the interruption, but he saw his daughter’s distress and instead simply opened his arms.
“Come here, sweetheart,” he said, pausing his video. “What’s wrong?”
Shelley approached, climbed into her dad’s lap and put her head on his shoulder.
She then floored him.
“Daddy, what’s a Hun?” she asked.
Roy’s eyebrows shot up his forehead and seemed like they would hide in his hair.
“Where on earth did you hear that?” he asked.
At school,” she said. “Tommy called Ian a Hun. Ian called Tommy a Tim and then they got into a fight.”
Roy collected his thoughts. But the five-year old thought faster.
“I hear you call Mommy ‘hun’,” she said. “Does that mean Tommy loves Ian?”
Roy smiled, thrown completely off his stroke.
“It means something different when I say it to your mum,” he said. “But when football people do it, it’s very bad. And I’m pretty sure Tommy does not love Ian.”
“But what does it mean?”
He took a deep breath. “It’s a bad name used among two sets of fans and it’s language that can get you banned from school,” he said. “They are words you should never, ever use.”
Roy resented having to teach a five-year old girl about sectarian language and really had no idea how he would explain the big rivalry in Glasgow other than to say that some people just took it too far. Kids fighting on a playground meant there were home issues that needed sorting, given how it all started.
So he tried a different tactic.
“Why are you sad, sweetheart?” he asked.
“I like them,” she said. “I didn’t want to see them fight.”
Roy thought briefly about trying to explain why West Ham hates Millwall and vice-versa. But she was too young to understand, and surely wouldn’t have remembered anything from Roy’s playing days as she was even younger then.
He hugged his daughter tight.
“Well,” he said, “don’t be sad. I’m sure your teachers and the principal have talked with Ian and Tommy and their parents and I bet it won’t happen again. Just remember that words can hurt someone just as much as a fight can. And those are two words you should never, ever say.”
“I know, Daddy,” she said. “I see people crying on the playground sometimes. They get teased and I just want to go help them.”
“Kids can be cruel,” Roy thought to himself, “in the worst possible ways. But your heart’s in the right place.”
“I’m glad nobody called you names,” she said, snuggling in tight to Roy’s shoulder.
“Little does she know,” Roy thought to himself. For now, though, a short but important lesson had been taught.
# # #
Haha, great update. This update has a strong realism to it - I can imagine this sort of conversation taking place. This is why I love your story so much because you seem to nail the finer aspects perfectly! When she gets older, she'll realise that her Dad certainly received a barrage of words a lot stronger!
An update that shows Kids can hear things from their parents and throw it around just as easily. Thankfully Roy is a good parent ensuring she understands words like that shouldn't be used. Great Update mate!
For some reason this reminds me of reading James Joyce’s Ulysses just because of the approach you take to make your writing create a sort of stream-of-consciousness to the reader that then become present in his Roy’s actual conversation. Honestly is fantastic reading.
Thank you, Jack! Back on the boards now ... summer vacation over and it's time to get back to serious writing!
____
Roy talked about the incident with Kate before they slept that night and she was just as shocked as he had been.
“Why do they let children get away with that?” she asked.
“It sounds to me like they didn’t,” Roy replied, “but I think we need to watch Shelley for the next couple of days. She sounds like she wants to help people to feel better but I’m not sure that’s either her role or what she ought to be doing.”
“Just let them be kids,” Kate sighed, leaning back into the pillows.
Things quieted down over the next several days, giving Roy an opportunity to get the team prepared for its next matchup – at home against Queen of the South on the 22nd September.
Roy expected the visitors to bar the doors and that’s just what they did, giving the Jags a lion-sized share of the possession even as they maintained a very compact and disciplined shape in their 4-4-2.
It was, Roy reckoned, almost like the Romans would have felt in their phalanx in ancient days. Their enemies knocked and pounded and struck but they couldn’t get in, and that was the feeling of the Jags’ forwards before half an hour had gone.
Of course, part of that frustration was due to an early mistake at the back which allowed Glenn Middleton to ghost between Scobbie and O’Ware, catching Bell by surprise only five minutes into the match.
The crowd of just over 5,000 mostly sat on its hands, with the exception of about 200 away supporters who were having a right
old yell at the Jags.
Queens kept right with the Jags all through the first half, with five attempts at goal to the hosts’ six. That gave Roy the opportunity to air out the team at halftime, for a performance which could charitably have been called “substandard.”
“You know, there are about 5,000 people out there wondering what all the fuss is about with you lot,” he said. “This match is winnable and it isn’t being won. You’ve been told what you need to do, now who’s going to be the first to do it?”
With that Roy turned on his heel and left the room to Litmanen, who was more specific in his criticisms.
The team responded well to the challenge – they felt they should have done better as well – and they took to the pitch looking like a different group of players.
Perhaps they were wearing false beards or some such thing because even though they looked different, they played the same
way as they did in the first half.
The worst of it was that Roy’s team was just plain wasteful in front of goal. Nothing was winding up on frame and that only led to the sense of impending disappointment now rapidly building among the home faithful.
Doolan had taken a nasty kick to the shins right after the restart and Roy waited only a few minutes before substituting Mutombo for him. Then it was Jack Storey coming off, the prize prospect proving ineffective on the left wing.
As such, Roy had quick word with Adrianinho before sending him on.
“Win us a set piece,” he said. “We’ll take whatever you can give us.”
The Brazilian nodded and headed onto the pitch, followed soon afterward by Shea Gordon. The loanee left in favor of Craig Slater ten minutes from time with the team still trailing by a goal to nil.
Roy was already kicking himself for his team selection. Storey and Gordon needed minutes but had shown they weren’t up to standard. Most of his best eleven were on the pitch now but time was running out.
The fourth official put up the board for three minutes of added time as Adrianinho finally did what Roy had asked him to do. He won a free kick twenty-five yards from goal on the left. His effort was inch-perfect, past the despairing dive of Alan Martin in the Queens goal.
With one minute left in regular time, the Brazilian wonder had stolen a point for his club. That was twice in a row.
Ladbrokes Championship Match Day #6 – Partick Thistle 1-1 Queen of the South
# # #
____
Roy talked about the incident with Kate before they slept that night and she was just as shocked as he had been.
“Why do they let children get away with that?” she asked.
“It sounds to me like they didn’t,” Roy replied, “but I think we need to watch Shelley for the next couple of days. She sounds like she wants to help people to feel better but I’m not sure that’s either her role or what she ought to be doing.”
“Just let them be kids,” Kate sighed, leaning back into the pillows.
Things quieted down over the next several days, giving Roy an opportunity to get the team prepared for its next matchup – at home against Queen of the South on the 22nd September.
Roy expected the visitors to bar the doors and that’s just what they did, giving the Jags a lion-sized share of the possession even as they maintained a very compact and disciplined shape in their 4-4-2.
It was, Roy reckoned, almost like the Romans would have felt in their phalanx in ancient days. Their enemies knocked and pounded and struck but they couldn’t get in, and that was the feeling of the Jags’ forwards before half an hour had gone.
Of course, part of that frustration was due to an early mistake at the back which allowed Glenn Middleton to ghost between Scobbie and O’Ware, catching Bell by surprise only five minutes into the match.
The crowd of just over 5,000 mostly sat on its hands, with the exception of about 200 away supporters who were having a right
old yell at the Jags.
Queens kept right with the Jags all through the first half, with five attempts at goal to the hosts’ six. That gave Roy the opportunity to air out the team at halftime, for a performance which could charitably have been called “substandard.”
“You know, there are about 5,000 people out there wondering what all the fuss is about with you lot,” he said. “This match is winnable and it isn’t being won. You’ve been told what you need to do, now who’s going to be the first to do it?”
With that Roy turned on his heel and left the room to Litmanen, who was more specific in his criticisms.
The team responded well to the challenge – they felt they should have done better as well – and they took to the pitch looking like a different group of players.
Perhaps they were wearing false beards or some such thing because even though they looked different, they played the same
way as they did in the first half.
The worst of it was that Roy’s team was just plain wasteful in front of goal. Nothing was winding up on frame and that only led to the sense of impending disappointment now rapidly building among the home faithful.
Doolan had taken a nasty kick to the shins right after the restart and Roy waited only a few minutes before substituting Mutombo for him. Then it was Jack Storey coming off, the prize prospect proving ineffective on the left wing.
As such, Roy had quick word with Adrianinho before sending him on.
“Win us a set piece,” he said. “We’ll take whatever you can give us.”
The Brazilian nodded and headed onto the pitch, followed soon afterward by Shea Gordon. The loanee left in favor of Craig Slater ten minutes from time with the team still trailing by a goal to nil.
Roy was already kicking himself for his team selection. Storey and Gordon needed minutes but had shown they weren’t up to standard. Most of his best eleven were on the pitch now but time was running out.
The fourth official put up the board for three minutes of added time as Adrianinho finally did what Roy had asked him to do. He won a free kick twenty-five yards from goal on the left. His effort was inch-perfect, past the despairing dive of Alan Martin in the Queens goal.
With one minute left in regular time, the Brazilian wonder had stolen a point for his club. That was twice in a row.
Ladbrokes Championship Match Day #6 – Partick Thistle 1-1 Queen of the South
# # #
Adrianinho to the rescue! A point is better than none; but Roy will be naturally disappointed not to win the game. Next game, the performance needs to be there for the entirety of the match, not just for the last forty-five minutes.
Phew. A point won or two points lost? The end of the season will be when we know. Despite a poor performance, the resilience to come back from behind has to be satisfying.
Not the greatest days for the team. But a point is a point and it all adds up in the end!
I wouldn't call it two points lost ... I would call it a single point stolen
___
“I’m not going to lie to you, we were lucky,” Roy said. “For eighty-nine minutes we were second best today and then we finally put ourselves in a position to succeed.”
The post-match briefing had a general mood of relief from the home point of view. They had generated more attempts at goal than Queens but had put only three on target, including the goal that split the points.
Roy took an offered towel and wiped rain from the top of his head. It had been a cold, drizzly day and the team jacket hadn’t really served Roy as well as it had often done. But at least it hadn’t lost.
The press, of course, asked Roy about his team selection.
“Well, we do have Dundee United in the Betfred quarterfinals coming up on Tuesday night and we need key players ready to go for that match,” he said. “I have faith in all my players but sometimes you need an extra boost for the team. That’s why we did what we did in our substitutions.”
“So, is this two points lost or a point gained?”
“A point stolen, if I'm honest,” Roy answered. “I’m disappointed that we didn’t do better for the vast majority of this match but to be honest, I felt we deserved a draw and that’s what Adrianinho got us.”
“Surely you don’t want to rely on set pieces for everything you get?”
That was a cheeky question, especially given Roy’s mood, but it had been asked and the manager had to deal with it.
“The last time I checked, every goal counts the same no matter how it goes in the goal,” he said. “Whether that’s a set piece, open play, a penalty, an own goal, it’s all the same on the scoreboard. We need to work on some elements of our game in attack which I will not disclose, but for now, when we aren’t quite hitting on all cylinders we need to pick up the goals where we can find them.”
“What did you think of the way Queen of the South set up for you defensively?”
“I thought they were disciplined, kept their shape and made themselves difficult to beat,” he answered. “It was the kind of defensive game I like to see my team play so my hat’s off to them. We were able to exploit a weakness with a special player and get a point but I was impressed at how they stood up to us.”
Still, it was disappointing. By this time, Kate knew better than to try to engage her husband in conversation when the team hadn’t performed well, so they drove home together in relative silence.
It had always been that way. When the Hammers hadn’t done well, there wasn’t a lot of conversation in the car. Now that Roy was the man in charge, it was even more difficult to break through the cone of silence.
So Kate simply turned on the car radio and when she found a song she liked, she sang along softly.
Possessed with a beautiful mezzosoprano singing voice which she had trained with lessons as a girl, Kate soon had a smile on her husband’s face.
She couldn’t talk to him, but she could sing in his vicinity and melt the human iceberg known as Roy Scully.
Finally, he turned to her as they drove.
“I love you,” he smiled.
She took his hand.
“Even when you don’t win,” she giggled. “Imagine that.”
# # #
___
“I’m not going to lie to you, we were lucky,” Roy said. “For eighty-nine minutes we were second best today and then we finally put ourselves in a position to succeed.”
The post-match briefing had a general mood of relief from the home point of view. They had generated more attempts at goal than Queens but had put only three on target, including the goal that split the points.
Roy took an offered towel and wiped rain from the top of his head. It had been a cold, drizzly day and the team jacket hadn’t really served Roy as well as it had often done. But at least it hadn’t lost.
The press, of course, asked Roy about his team selection.
“Well, we do have Dundee United in the Betfred quarterfinals coming up on Tuesday night and we need key players ready to go for that match,” he said. “I have faith in all my players but sometimes you need an extra boost for the team. That’s why we did what we did in our substitutions.”
“So, is this two points lost or a point gained?”
“A point stolen, if I'm honest,” Roy answered. “I’m disappointed that we didn’t do better for the vast majority of this match but to be honest, I felt we deserved a draw and that’s what Adrianinho got us.”
“Surely you don’t want to rely on set pieces for everything you get?”
That was a cheeky question, especially given Roy’s mood, but it had been asked and the manager had to deal with it.
“The last time I checked, every goal counts the same no matter how it goes in the goal,” he said. “Whether that’s a set piece, open play, a penalty, an own goal, it’s all the same on the scoreboard. We need to work on some elements of our game in attack which I will not disclose, but for now, when we aren’t quite hitting on all cylinders we need to pick up the goals where we can find them.”
“What did you think of the way Queen of the South set up for you defensively?”
“I thought they were disciplined, kept their shape and made themselves difficult to beat,” he answered. “It was the kind of defensive game I like to see my team play so my hat’s off to them. We were able to exploit a weakness with a special player and get a point but I was impressed at how they stood up to us.”
Still, it was disappointing. By this time, Kate knew better than to try to engage her husband in conversation when the team hadn’t performed well, so they drove home together in relative silence.
It had always been that way. When the Hammers hadn’t done well, there wasn’t a lot of conversation in the car. Now that Roy was the man in charge, it was even more difficult to break through the cone of silence.
So Kate simply turned on the car radio and when she found a song she liked, she sang along softly.
Possessed with a beautiful mezzosoprano singing voice which she had trained with lessons as a girl, Kate soon had a smile on her husband’s face.
She couldn’t talk to him, but she could sing in his vicinity and melt the human iceberg known as Roy Scully.
Finally, he turned to her as they drove.
“I love you,” he smiled.
She took his hand.
“Even when you don’t win,” she giggled. “Imagine that.”
# # #
Roy and Kates relationship is very important. She knows what she needs to do to get him through a disappointing result and that will only benefit both!
You are reading "FM19 - The Great Glasgow Alternative".