“I’d like a Big Mac and Diet Coke please. Cheers.” The voice of a man arose from behind a large hat, sunglasses that covered the face, and an expensive jacket. It was unknown, but it looked expensive. The mysterious man took his food, handed over a £20 note, and swiftly turned, briskly walking until he reached the stairs. However, the only things upstairs in McDonalds were the toilets. Why was the man walking up there? Nevertheless, he climbed the staircase, and just before reaching the cubicle, took out a key, and unlocked a large door. He put his food down, and then took off his hat and glasses. It was Sir Bobby Charlton. A footballing great. But what was he doing in McDonalds? Bobby sat down and waited, completing the crossword on the paper he previously took out of his jacket.
Then another mysterious man, also dressed in a large hat and glasses placed his banana milkshake down with a polite “Hello” to Sir Bobby. Bobby looked up and down, followed by a sincere tut. A banana milkshake, what was he thinking? “Hello Zinedine, thank you for coming all this way, I am very grateful.” Zinedine Zidane, another footballing great had joined Sir Bobby in McDonalds. Why? The rest of his guests then filed in. Eusebio, the Portuguese wonder, Zico, and Di Stefano all soon joined him. “Excellent,” said Bobby, with a little smirk. “Just the one left now then. Thank you for waiting.” Finally, entered one of the greatest footballers who has ever lived. Carrying three large Big Macs, two bags of doughnuts, twenty chicken nuggets, a coffee and an extra-large Coca Cola, was Diego Maradona. “Great of you to… join us” exclaimed Bobby, looking at Diego with some disgust.
“So, Bobby, why are we here?” asked Maradona. Everyone was thinking it. “Firstly, I would like to apologize for having to hold the meeting here. My office is being steam cleaned, and well, I was craving a McDonalds this morning. But anyway, my proposal. I assume you have all heard about the Chesterfield Saga. There is now one spot available. This is an incredibly ambitious idea, but one I feel that can work, if we go into this together. My proposal is that we start up a football team. We work our work up, and become the best team in England, the best team in Europe, and even the world!”
After much deliberation, Eusebio and Di Stefano felt it was an excellent idea. Zidane and Zico were well up for the challenge, and Diego thought it was a crazy idea. So he loved it. However, Eusebio was unsure about something.
He spoke, in no more than a whisper, towards Sir Bobby. “Who are we going to have in the team? What will the team even be named?”
“I had an idea someone would ask this.” Sir Bobby spoken in a firm, but kind voice. “I have found one of the greatest communities to ever surf the interweb. They are some of the biggest football fans across the world, and many are willing to put themselves forward as players, to help us out. I have seen them in action and they are a quality team, no star individuals, but a team of workhorses who will get the job done effectively and efficiently. Oh, and your other question. They are on a site known as FM Scout, so there name shall be FM Scout United. A community united, what could be a better name?” The guests suddenly sat up in their seat, all smiling, realise this could work for sure.
"One last thing before you go. You must keep this quiet. I want everything perfect before anyone finds out. I will contact you soon with more details, but gentlemen, I think this is the start of something wonderful.” Players left, thanking Sir Bobby for the opportunity, full of joy and eagerness. Once everyone had left, Bobby sat back to think for a moment. A tear glistened in his eye, and a little burp arose. “Oops, too much caffeine!” He picked up his crossword to complete the final word. He read the question, and smiled.
It was an answer he knew he would get. Six across. Success.