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I had seen it so many times before, driving right past it on my way from the airport in Palma to the holiday resort in Alcudia passing Inca every time. But never had I noticed the football stadium and never had I dreamt that this was the place where I was to find my place in the world of football.
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It all started back in 2012, first by an accident and then by a misunderstanding. When the rental-car ran over a rabbit on the way back to the hotel from a lazy golf round on one of Mallorca’s many golf courses I found myself in an Inca gas station just outside the practice field of Incas football team CD Constancia. I soon after found myself sitting in the shade watching the small group of players practice on their own. Even with my Spanish being very limited I had no problem following the flow of the practice.
I guess I should have stopped the misunderstanding right there and then, but for some strange reason I decided to play along. When Mr. Antoni Ramis came up to me and presented himself as Chairman of CD Constancia and invited me in to his small office I should told him, but I didn’t. Mr. Ramis excused many times that they had not been able to find me in the airport. What happened next was like a dream and a nightmare happening at the same time. After some small talk about the stat of Spanish football (very good back in 2012) and Danish football (not that great), a paper was put in front of me and a pen in my hand just like that I had signed on as the new manager of the CD Constancia with a monthly salary of € 1.300.
The club president had no problem understanding that I had to leave right away. He also liked to get unpacked before starting a new job and we agreed that I would start my new job the next day at 9 o’clock and get to meet the staff and be presented for the players. In hindsight I guess this would have been another great time to come clean and explain the obvious misunderstanding. But once again I didn’t.
Try to explain to you wife when you get back from a round of holiday golf, that by the way I just got a new job as manager of a small Spanish football club and we need to move to Mallorca for the next year. Of cause I didn’t go down that road and instead lied about another golf round the next morning. That didn’t go over well with the wife either but at least there was no blood.
Trading places
I had seen it so many times before, driving right past it on my way from the airport in Palma to the holiday resort in Alcudia passing Inca every time. But never had I noticed the football stadium and never had I dreamt that this was the place where I was to find my place in the world of football.

It all started back in 2012, first by an accident and then by a misunderstanding. When the rental-car ran over a rabbit on the way back to the hotel from a lazy golf round on one of Mallorca’s many golf courses I found myself in an Inca gas station just outside the practice field of Incas football team CD Constancia. I soon after found myself sitting in the shade watching the small group of players practice on their own. Even with my Spanish being very limited I had no problem following the flow of the practice.
I guess I should have stopped the misunderstanding right there and then, but for some strange reason I decided to play along. When Mr. Antoni Ramis came up to me and presented himself as Chairman of CD Constancia and invited me in to his small office I should told him, but I didn’t. Mr. Ramis excused many times that they had not been able to find me in the airport. What happened next was like a dream and a nightmare happening at the same time. After some small talk about the stat of Spanish football (very good back in 2012) and Danish football (not that great), a paper was put in front of me and a pen in my hand just like that I had signed on as the new manager of the CD Constancia with a monthly salary of € 1.300.
The club president had no problem understanding that I had to leave right away. He also liked to get unpacked before starting a new job and we agreed that I would start my new job the next day at 9 o’clock and get to meet the staff and be presented for the players. In hindsight I guess this would have been another great time to come clean and explain the obvious misunderstanding. But once again I didn’t.
Try to explain to you wife when you get back from a round of holiday golf, that by the way I just got a new job as manager of a small Spanish football club and we need to move to Mallorca for the next year. Of cause I didn’t go down that road and instead lied about another golf round the next morning. That didn’t go over well with the wife either but at least there was no blood.