Hi everyone I have decided to start a story about a football manager's journey throughout his career. I have decided to make it from the managers point of view and more like a story, compared to my other story, The Rise of Mighty Montpellier.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------“This is your final warning Mr Brookes. We expect the money by next week or we are kicking you out”, the bailiffs shouted through the door. I stood, pressed up against the wall listening to their demands. I have a week to find £1200. Job Centre here I come.
The next morning I left the house; well I wouldn’t exactly call it a house – a dead end, to go to the job centre. I dressed as smartly as I could; wearing a white shirt, 5 years old and well, not exactly white anymore, and a pair of Primark £3.00 trousers. You could tell they were good quality through the loose thread and various holes in the trousers. Let’s just hope first impressions are not important!
I entered the Job Centre after a long and dreary walk through the rain. I stood their patiently, observing the surroundings. Wow… is this what **** looks like. “Can I help you?” A voice I heard behind me. “Ahh, yes…I’m looking for a job.” I said. “Ok take a seat.” She said. I frantically sat down, twiddling my thumbs, nervous; I knew I needed this job. “So…what kind of job, are you interested in?” She said. “Anything really, whatever is available.” I replied. “What about experience, how much have you got?” The interviewer said. “Various part time jobs.” I replied. I sat daydreaming, looking at my job history; working as a waiter in an Italian restaurant, working as a sales assistant in various clothing retailers. But the one part I remember the most was junior coaching. I used to coach Under-12s, not for money but because I enjoyed it. I remember teaching them my football philosophy; move into space, look for the pass, continuous this process until we score. I preferred attractive attacking football rather than lumping the ball forward and looking to score through this method.
“Mr Brookes…Mr Brookes, we have some jobs available.”
“Sorry…I was just thinking.”
“Ok Mr Brookes, we have three jobs available: sales assistant at Topman, a pizza delivery job and working in a call centre at a local charity, so what’s it to be Mr Brookes?” I was looking outside; there were a couple of kids doing kick-ups, having fun. I wanted to work in football, nothing else mattered. “So what’s it to be Mr Brookes?” She Queried. “Sorry I can’t do this.” I got up and left in a hurry. So this is it, I am going to be kicked out of my home all because I couldn’t choose a simple job.
I started walking home, well not for much longer. It started pouring with rain, again. Just what I needed today. I quickly dashed across the zebra crossing accidently bumping into someone and knocking them over. “Sorry.” I said. I helped this guy up. He was in a trendy expensive suit – ironic, considering what I was wearing. As I helped him up I noticed his face, what I couldn’t believe it, it was Andre Villas-Boas, the former Chelsea and FC Porto manager. “You’re Andre Villas Boas, wow, sorry about knocking you over, it’s an honour to meet you.” I said. “Its fine, it’s nice to meet you.” He replied. I stood there mesmerised, “So what are you doing, walking around in the middle of London, it doesn’t seem like someone like you would do?” I said. “Please can we get out of the rain and I will tell you.”
We sat in a nearby café. I bought him a coffee as an apology for knocking him over. “So what are you doing walking round in the middle of London?” I questioned. “Well I’m here looking at a few managerial jobs. I am scheduled for a meeting with the chairman of Genk, in an hour actually.” He replied. “Wow, that’s amazing I wish I could manage a football club, it’s my dream.”
“You should come along, see if you can get an interview.”
“Really?”
“Sure…what’s the worst that can happen? So you get rejected, it doesn’t matter.”
“OK I will give it a try. I will come with you to the interview.”
“Good luck.” He chuckled.
We approached the building where Villas-Boas was going to be interviewed. He approached the front desk and asked for Herbert Houben, the chairman of Genk. The receptionist replied, “Take the elevator up to the second floor, he is expecting you.” Villas-Boas left for the elevator while I sat down, waiting, waiting for the opportunity of a lifetime.
2 hours had passed until Villas-Boas finally came down from the second floor. He was joined by the Genk chairman, exchanging goodbyes. As the Genk chairman started to leave back to the elevator, Villas-Boas gave me a look. I could tell he was telling me to go for the opportunity that presented itself, I didn’t know why he was helping me, did he feel sorry for me or something. I dashed towards the Genk chairman. “Excuse me; I was wondering if you were still looking for a manger?” I asked. “Who are you?” He replied. “Well, my name is James Brookes and I want to be the manager of the club.”
“Ha” He started to chuckle. “Alright I will give you a chance. I hope you’re ready.”
We both went up to the second floor. The next few hours could change my life. “So Mr Brookes what experience do you have?” He asked. “Well none really, does coaching under 12s count?”
“Ha, you seriously think you could get this job?”
“Look, I know I don’t have much experience but I want this so much. I am very passionate about football, it’s in my blood. Getting this opportunity will mean the world to me, I don’t want it, I need it. Football is more than just a sport and money, it is life. Give me an opportunity to show you what I can do.” He gave me the look, the look I’ve experienced all my life. I quickly got up and started to leave. I was so embarrassed, how did I believe I would actually get this job?
“Wait.” He hissed. I turned round. “Alright son I will give you the opportunity. A one year deal, you better live up to the high expectations I have for you.” I completely froze. Was this real? Without thinking I went up to him and hugged him. “Thank you” I screamed. “Alright son get out of here before I change my mind. I will contact you shortly.” I quickly left in a hurry. As I got in the elevator, he said, “If Villas-Boas is downstairs could you send him up.” Oh no…
I approached the ground floor; Villas-Boas was sitting there patiently. I couldn’t look at him. I told him that the Genk chairman wants to see him. He left.
I couldn’t just leave. The honourable thing was to stay and face the fireworks. I just waited there, waiting for the wraith to come my way.
I heard the elevator make a noise, in a few short seconds Villas-Boas will be coming down.
3…
2…
1
The doors opened. Villas-Boas walked straight up to me. He looked furious. He just stood there for a few seconds staring at me; I had never been so scared. Suddenly, he stuck out his hand and he said, “Good luck, I hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” Without thinking I shook his hand, I was expecting to be punched. He quickly left.
This is it I am the manager of Genk, the start of my managerial career. No more living in my crummy apartment, off to Belgium here I come.
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Looks good and I'll be following 
