A nobody to a somebody?

[Cbs]

Authors note: I've read a fair few stories on here and finally decided to bite the bullet and give it ago. I started writing this on another site but thought i'd run it on this site as well since there seems to be a few more members. I've always threatened I'd write a book one day, but just never got round to starting. I felt this would be a good place to give it a go and see if I was actually any good at creative writing. Comments and criticism are more than welcome. I'll also point out I'm not great with pictures, html code etc, so any advice around making it look "prity", again, is more than welcome. With that, lets get started.

Chapter one
This can't be real....can it?

I was woken by the endless ringing of my mobile. God knows how long it had been ringing because I was in no condition to hear it straight away. We had just won the Scottish cup the day before, all be it the Sunday league Scottish cup, but the Scottish cup none the less, and the hangover I was currently experiencing at that particular moment was ranked somewhere between "Kill me now" and "am I already dead?"

I strongly considered letting it ring off. It was bound to be my boss asking why I wasn't in work, even though I'd been clear on more than one occasion the previous week it's highly unlikely I'd be in, but for some reason I decided to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Mr Darryl Lindsay?"

"Might be, I've not looked in the mirror yet this morning. Who's this?"

"My name is Richard Morris, I'm the personal secretary to David Sommers. He's asked me to give you a call to arrange a meeting with him."

"And who might David Sommers be?"

"You don't know? He's the Chairman of Rangers football club and h...."

"Yeah, good one Dave. Look, I may have knocked back half a keg of Lager, more vodka than Vlad the mad Russian and more shots of sambuca than is medically advisable last night, but if I wasn't drunk enough to go home with that fat bird with the wonky eye, I'm not hung over enough to fall for one of your little wind ups. I'll see you in the pub later on for the hair of the dog."

With that I hung up, dropped my phone on the floor and closed my eyes again, ready to black out again for another couple of hours. No such luck though as the phone rang again.

"I'm gonna kick his head in" I thought as I answered.

"DAVE, WILL YOU FU....."

"Mr Lindsay, my name is not Dave. I can assure you this is a legitimate phone call to try and arrange a meeting here at the club."

It wasn't Dave's voice, I could tell that after listening a bit closer. Not even he could make his voice sound that different, way too proper spoken, But I still wasn't buying it.

"I'm sorry to wake you Mr Lindsay, but Mr Sommers wants a time and date arranged as soon as possible."

"Okay. Richard. What's it about?"

"I'm afraid I'm not privy to that information"

"Oh is that right, what a shame. Well tell your boss I've got work tomorrow and I'm too hung-over to drive to Glasgow today, so I'll have to pass."

"We can send a car for you"

Whoever this is, they're putting on a good show, I'll give em that I thought.

"Ok, no bother, you send a car for me whenever and I?ll be right there. Now if you don't mind, I've still got a few more winks to catch up on"

Again, I hung up and looked at my phone. I shook my head "My mates really are a bunch of head cases". I closed my eyes and turned round, letting my arm fall across the other side of the bed. Instead of feeling up the nice cold sheets, it landed on top of someone. I opened my eyes. Wouldn't you know it.

"The fat bird with the wonky eye" I cursed under my breath.

 

[Cbs]

Chapter 2
Christ, it really is real

Later that day, after delicately declining my ?conquest? from the previous evening?s invitation of dinner and a trip to the cinema, and showing her the door with the promise of a call sometime, I was stood in the shower on the verge of reproducing the contents of my stomach. Before that came there was a knock at the door.

"Urgh, she really is persistent, got to give her marks for that."

I got out the shower, dried myself halfheartedly, wrapped the towel round me and went to the door. When I opened it, I got a bit of a shock. Instead of the mess I was expecting to see, stood a suited and booted fella I'd never seen before.

"Can I help you?" I said.

"I've been sent to collect you.......for your meeting.......with Mr Sommers."

My face must have gone from a faint shade of green to as white as a ghost.

"Jesus, I thought that was a wind up, I wasn't really expecting anyone to show up."

He just stood there, not quite sure what to do.

"Erm, right, give me 5 minutes to get changed and I'll be out."

With that and literally sprinted to my room, threw on my best suit (least worst would probably be a better description), sorted out my hair a bit, grabbed my keys phone and ****, then joined the guy in his, I must say, seriously plush motor.




The drive to Glasgow from Perth is a fairly simple one. Motorway all the way till you hit the city itself. Did give me an hour or so to try and compose myself. I still didn't have a clue what the **** was going on. Getting conversation out of the driver was like getting blood from a stone. My head was throbbing, my throat was dry and my eyes were aching. We couldn't get there soon enough.

After arriving, I wasn't even allowed a quick smoke. I was ushered into the building as if I was the prime suspect in a murder inquiry. This didn't help calm the nerves. I was now sat outside the chairman's office, surrounded by mahogany furniture that certainly didn't look flat packed out of IKEA. The secretary was the only other person there. Young and attractive. Any other time, I would have been sleazing all over her.

"You can go in now" She said, snapping me out of the mind blank I was currently in.

As I walked through the door I straightway figured instead of wearing my best suit, I might as well have thrown on a shell suit, a pair of orange Kappa trainers and a fake Burberry cap, because quite frankly, I still looked like **** compared to what this guy had on. Suit jacket, waistcoat, trousers, shoes, tie, gold watch, the lot probably cost more than my rent.........for 6 months.

"Hello, Mr Lindsay, please take a seat"

"How do you know who I am?" I asked as I sat down.

"oh, I know a lot more about you than that."

Again, not exactly helping with the nerves.

"You are Mr Darryl Lindsay. An insurance Broker from Perth, Single, living on your own in a one bedroom flat which you can barely afford. Am I close?"

"Aye, no bad right enough"

"However, the part of your life I'm more interested in. Current Manager of Strathord AFC. League champions 6 years in a row, 4 league cups, 3 Fair city cups, 2 trebles.....back to back, and after yesterday 1 Scottish cup...."

"Sunday league Scottish cup" I felt I needed to add.

"Yes, quite. Before you took over as manager 8 years ago, the team finished bottom of the league 4 years in a row, were lucky to get 11 players every week and were, well, quite frankly if you don't mind me saying, *****."

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but Aye, fair shout"

"What you did with that team Mr Lindsay, is astonishing. You took a bunch of no hopers and wasters, and turned them into the first non west coast based team to win the Scottish cup in over 20 years."

I was beginning to get a strange feeling sweeping across my body. A sort of warm glow I had never felt before. Pride.

"Which brings us to why I've asked you here today. As you're probably aware, this club has been in a bit of a downward spiral for the last few years"

"Bit of an Understatement there" I mumbled under my breath.

"Officially, as a company, we're only 1 year old. But unofficially, we're one of the most successful clubs in the world. But now, now we're in trouble. Our income and expenditure just don?t match up the way they need to. On the park we've got the worst group of players we have ever had."

"That's a bit harsh don't you think? I mean Lee Wallace is one of the best left backs in the country! Wouldn't look out of place down south in the Premiership. Cammy Bell was knocking on the door of the national side while he was at Killie. David Templeton is one of the most technically gifted players I've seen produced in Scotland for a long while and how many player of the month awards should Nicky Law have won while with Motherwell. On top of all that you?ve got arguably the best youth setup in the whole of Scotland."

He sat there smiling at me while I rattled all this off.

"That's just what I wanted to hear, because this is where you come in."

"How so?"

"We want you" Leaning back in his chair "to be the new manager of Rangers Football Club"

Well my **** nearly dropped out of me. I just stared at him with my mouth wider than the Clyde tunnel. Was I dreaming? Was this some elaborate prank? Was I being punked? I was half expecting Ashton Kutcher or even Jeremy ****** Beadle to jump out from behind the photocopier. When I finally did manage to formulate some words, I was tempted to be my smart arsed self and ask to see the size of his hand.

"You're having a laugh right? You don't expect me to believe you've just offered me a job as first team manager? Maybe a job as a tea boy or something, but come on."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Why not? Where do you want me to start? Never played professional football for one. ****, even when I played Sunday league football I was absolutely bogging."

"Jose Mourinho never played?"

"You've already got a manager"

"Ally has served this club with distinction a true club legend and what he's done for us, on and off the pitch should never be forgotten. But the pressure of it all has gotten to him. He has stepped down from his role. He is going to get back into his Television work. We've just not told the media yet, we wanted to get a new man in place first."

"Why me?"

"As I said what you did with such a miserable bunch, was simply remarkable. The club can't go back to its old ways. Buying high and selling low just isn't an option anymore. We need someone who can mould a group of players into a solid unit who can eventually claw it's way back to the top of the game in this country, while at the same time, making the company, a profitable one."

"And you also need someone on the cheap"

"Exactly, so if you'll just sign here, we can announce it to the media"

With that he pushed a contract across the table and offered me a pen.

"Look, I appreciate the offer, but I'll need to think about it. I've got no real idea how a job in football management works. I turn up on a Sunday morning, have a laugh with my mates, try and give them an idea how to play football, then go for a pint. You need someone with some previous. I'm sorry"

I rose off my chair to leave. The guy just looked at me disappointingly as he shook my hand.

"The offer is still on the table for 24 hours. Honestly think about it. It'll change your life."

"Thanks"



Before getting back in the car that brought me, I sat down on the top step of the rear entrance. They still didn?t want me being seen. Just how even the most savvy of the media would have any idea who I was or what i was doing there was beyond me.

"I can't take this job. I'm only 28 years old. I'm an Insurance broker for Christ sake. I could maybe get the place a good deal on their public liability but that's about it. I've got a steady job. Not exciting or glamorous, but steady. I'm not even a Rangers fan!! I'm a Saintee through and through. I hate Rangers, and Celtic for that matter. Surely they need someone with a passion for the club."

This was all running through my head when I felt my pocket vibrating. My phone. I pulled it out. "WORK" flashing across the screen. I answered:

"Hello"

"Darryl, It's John. Where the **** have you been today? The reports are overdue, 3 client meetings have had to be re arranged and your annual review was meant to be later this afternoon and........"

I hung up, slipped my phone back into my pocket. Raised back up to my feet, exhaled loudly, turned, and sprinted through the door, down the corridor, up the stairs and back to the room with the attractive young secretary. Ignoring her (obviously still not in the right frame of mind) and burst through the chairman's door.



"I'LL DO IT!!!"

 

[naterr]

I like it! well written and something different! will be following!

 

[Seano]

Looks good mate, i'll be following!

 

[grindo]

amazing...... very catchy

 

[Cbs]

Chapter 3
It's all about the money, money, money.


So now here I am. Sat in my own chair, at my own desk, in my very own office. In fact no, make that one of my offices. I've got one at Murray Park as well. If the last 2 days are anything to go by, this is gonna be one **** of rollercoaster. At several points I wondered if i'd made the right choice. The media had had a field day. Their reactions to my appointment were at best sceptical ranging to borderline insulting. And if the media were borderline insulting, there was no question how the fans were feeling. Their views were clear. Message boards and forums had just about overloaded with abuse being thrown in my direction. I even had my own hashtag on twitter!!! "Who the **** is #DarrylLindsay" "what a joke #DarrylLindsay" "The board must be having a laugh #DarrylLindsay #Bawbag!!"

On the bright side most of the criticism was being directed at the higher-ups. I've been told to ignore all the calls for me to be sacked, my job was safe......still, it's only a 1 year contract.

I've said the quick good byes to my friends and family, even though their only an hour down the road. I've jacked my job in....well, my actual words were "shove your annual review up yer erse", so doubt i'll be getting a good reference from them in the future.

My stuff has been shifted out of my old, shithole of a flat in Perth and moved into a new shithole of a flat in Glasgow, owned by the club. So all I need to concentrate on is the job.

Which is where I'm at now, and holy **** did I have a lot to sort out. What formation was I going to use? What tactics were we going to employ? What players were going to play in those positions and use those tactics? How was training going to be handled? Who was going to be captain?

Then there was the staff!! Christ, I might actually have to sack someone, jesus.. I'd never sacked anyone before. I can't even bring myself to break up with girl friends! I think there might be one lassie still thinking we're together wondering why it's taken me 3 years to pick up a pint of milk from Tesco! How was I going to tell someone with mouths to feed that they were no longer required. "Good luck, I'm sure there will be loads of clubs after you in no time". Aye right, with the wages some of them were on now, no chance they'll get anywhere close to that.

That's another thing! Due to my financial services background, I had been let loose with the club finances. I was responsible for everything player and team related. Expenditure and income. Which included contracts. It didn't look good. We're in the 3rd tier of Scottish football, not the most affluent nation in footballing terms as it is, yet we're giving some players ?10 grand a week! Plus it seemed everyone had 30% promotion uplifts as well. I needed to get this under control.

I just sat there, leaning back in my chair, letting it all run through my head. 2 things kept coming to the front over and over again.FAF...... Finances & Future. I wrote the 2 words down and stared at them. A plan started to come together. This is where I had to focus on. Then it came to me. Our money is going to come from the fans. We need to get them through the turnstile. As many as possible, as often as possible.

First, I checked our fixture list. The friendlies that had been previously arranged didn't exactly set my imagination alight. I fired off an email to each team basically saying "Thanks, but no thanks" or "It's not you, it's me" if you prefer. After that, it was SPAM time. I lost count of how many emails I sent to different teams requesting games. All decent teams. All at Ibrox. I didn't know what I was gonna do if they all replied yes....or if none of them replied at all. How many games was I realistically gonna fit in before the start of the season. I reckoned if I could work it the way I hoped, maybe about 10. It would require a fair bit of squad rotation, but that's no bad thing. The way I saw it, the fans spent all of last season playing teams like Berwick and Stirling, they would jump at the chance to see Chelsea or Barcelona lining up against their heroes. If I could pack out the place 10 times, or even get near half capacity, that would be a decent cash injection. All I could do then, was wait.....

 

[grindo]

is this still active mate....... was loving it

 

[PL7]

me too come on m8, what happened next?!?