Clark_Messi
"Football is everything"
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Nice update Ed,
have you actually started the game yet?
have you actually started the game yet?
Borderline Madness - The Young Inductee
- Thread starter Eds
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Clark_Messi
"Football is everything"
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Nice, I'm looking forward to this as in your Slaying the Dragons story i became more interested in the side storyies, Spanish Man etc,
and there will be a lot of that in this story I hope
and there will be a lot of that in this story I hope
i agree and can't wait for next update.
Chapter 4 – The Battering
“We’re back, pa.”
Tomas and Pierre stepped through the front door and Tomas’ dad was holding the phone to his ear with a pained expression on his face. It was obvious what was coming, so Tomas waited, rather than risk being shouted downstairs by his frustrated father.
“You’re an absolute disgrace. Now that’s enough. You’ve been suspended for a week, so that takes you to the end of the year. You will be going back next year.”
Tomas looked down at the floor, like a wounded animal. A severe telling off from his dad usually never knocked him off his stride, but this one really got to him. At least ten minutes of ripping into him had ensued, and it was mainly about how disappointed he was. That really got to Tomas.
And when Tomas had asked about the coaching course, and possibly having some money off his father to help out, Tomas’ father couldn’t have been more dismissive.
Banned from Prevessin-Moens matches until he left school, things were going from bad to worse for Tomas. Everything had gone downhill, and football meant everything to him.
He had a shower, put his Les Blues shirt on, picked up a France Football mag and headed out the door. All that mattered at that moment was getting out the door, and doing something football related, anything.
The bench was very uncomfortable and after twenty minutes of reading the France Football mag, he began to wonder off. But two particular adverts caught his eye.
“We’re back, pa.”
Tomas and Pierre stepped through the front door and Tomas’ dad was holding the phone to his ear with a pained expression on his face. It was obvious what was coming, so Tomas waited, rather than risk being shouted downstairs by his frustrated father.
*
“You’re an absolute disgrace. Now that’s enough. You’ve been suspended for a week, so that takes you to the end of the year. You will be going back next year.”
Tomas looked down at the floor, like a wounded animal. A severe telling off from his dad usually never knocked him off his stride, but this one really got to him. At least ten minutes of ripping into him had ensued, and it was mainly about how disappointed he was. That really got to Tomas.
And when Tomas had asked about the coaching course, and possibly having some money off his father to help out, Tomas’ father couldn’t have been more dismissive.
Banned from Prevessin-Moens matches until he left school, things were going from bad to worse for Tomas. Everything had gone downhill, and football meant everything to him.
He had a shower, put his Les Blues shirt on, picked up a France Football mag and headed out the door. All that mattered at that moment was getting out the door, and doing something football related, anything.
*
The bench was very uncomfortable and after twenty minutes of reading the France Football mag, he began to wonder off. But two particular adverts caught his eye.
Stratsbourg FC in need of a new first team coach
033 657903324
033 657903324
Prevession-Moens in need of a new assistant manager
033 129736925
033 129736925
Clark_Messi
"Football is everything"
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Very good update,
beginning to think I see where this is going :L
It's quite sad acctuallu, I feel sorry for him
lol
beginning to think I see where this is going :L
It's quite sad acctuallu, I feel sorry for him
lolac_maestro
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Great Story Mate, Great Updates 
Well I've just had a Security Tool virus (google it; very nasty thing) so have been unable to do much. Once a few people show some interest I'll certainly stick the next chapter up.
---------- Post added at 09:52 PM ---------- Previous post was at 05:03 PM ----------
Chapter 5 – Rollercoaster
“I’m sorry but a club like Stratsbourg cannot employ a 17 year old as a First Team Coach, particularly one with no experience whatsoever.
Au-Revoir.”
Tomas put the phone down and looked wearily up towards his light blue coloured ceiling. It’d taken all his will-power to make the call up Stratsbourg, and he didn’t think they would give him much of a chance, but he had a slight optimism.
Prevessin-Moens hadn’t answered when Tomas had called, either of the two times he had attempted to get in touch with the club. He had left a brief voicemail for the Club Secretary, but had a bad feeling it wouldn’t get through.
The club he had supported since the day he was born had always had a close place next to Tomas Lemoigne’s heart. His mother and father had given him a Moens shirt for his first birthday, merely a hundred or so days before his mother had left his father.
Another mid-table finish for the 2008/09 season had meant that Prevessin-Moens were in the CFA division of the French Football System for the fourth year running after relegation from the third tier of French Football, the National. And Tomas had always been teased about supporting such a “merde” club, but he was proud to be a Previen.
As Tomas silently looked up at his ceiling, his phone violently vibrated at the end of his bed, and fell onto the floor. It then stopped and Tomas realised he could not be bothered to pick it up. But then what seemed like a second text received came in and sent the phone into it’s violent shuddering routine, and Tomas realised it was worth getting up for.
The first text he saw was from his only real mate at school John. Although John had come over from England, he was a good friend to Tomas, and the two got off like a house on fire. The text read:
Tu de l’equipe, 7:30 le coup d’envoi demain*
Tomas immediately punched the air. He knew he couldn’t be left out of the school team, even though he was suspended. The days had been far from boring, but Tomas always relished the opportunity to play on the right wing or even in the striker role for his school team. He had a bad feeling he may not wear his usual captain’s armband for the game though, due to his recent behaviour.
Tomas flicked back into his inbox but pure excitement for a school team was flooding through his veins and he forgot about the second message. He put his phone down on his bed, grabbed his favourite football and made his way down the stairs.
And as Tomas’ phone lay visible on his bed, the preview of the text read:
*Roughly translates to “You’re in the team, 7:30 kick off, tomorrow.”
**Roughly translates to “We would like to invi…”
---------- Post added at 09:52 PM ---------- Previous post was at 05:03 PM ----------
Chapter 5 – Rollercoaster
“I’m sorry but a club like Stratsbourg cannot employ a 17 year old as a First Team Coach, particularly one with no experience whatsoever.
Au-Revoir.”
Tomas put the phone down and looked wearily up towards his light blue coloured ceiling. It’d taken all his will-power to make the call up Stratsbourg, and he didn’t think they would give him much of a chance, but he had a slight optimism.
*
Prevessin-Moens hadn’t answered when Tomas had called, either of the two times he had attempted to get in touch with the club. He had left a brief voicemail for the Club Secretary, but had a bad feeling it wouldn’t get through.
The club he had supported since the day he was born had always had a close place next to Tomas Lemoigne’s heart. His mother and father had given him a Moens shirt for his first birthday, merely a hundred or so days before his mother had left his father.
Another mid-table finish for the 2008/09 season had meant that Prevessin-Moens were in the CFA division of the French Football System for the fourth year running after relegation from the third tier of French Football, the National. And Tomas had always been teased about supporting such a “merde” club, but he was proud to be a Previen.
*
As Tomas silently looked up at his ceiling, his phone violently vibrated at the end of his bed, and fell onto the floor. It then stopped and Tomas realised he could not be bothered to pick it up. But then what seemed like a second text received came in and sent the phone into it’s violent shuddering routine, and Tomas realised it was worth getting up for.
The first text he saw was from his only real mate at school John. Although John had come over from England, he was a good friend to Tomas, and the two got off like a house on fire. The text read:
Tu de l’equipe, 7:30 le coup d’envoi demain*
Tomas immediately punched the air. He knew he couldn’t be left out of the school team, even though he was suspended. The days had been far from boring, but Tomas always relished the opportunity to play on the right wing or even in the striker role for his school team. He had a bad feeling he may not wear his usual captain’s armband for the game though, due to his recent behaviour.
Tomas flicked back into his inbox but pure excitement for a school team was flooding through his veins and he forgot about the second message. He put his phone down on his bed, grabbed his favourite football and made his way down the stairs.
And as Tomas’ phone lay visible on his bed, the preview of the text read:
From: 033 129736925
Nous aimerions invi…**
Nous aimerions invi…**
*Roughly translates to “You’re in the team, 7:30 kick off, tomorrow.”
**Roughly translates to “We would like to invi…”
Nice update Ed, making us want to read the next one to see what happens.. nice use of french too, it works well like that, who's inviting you where? I'm still not sure what a half naked woman has to do with anything in your sig :S hopefully we'll find out!
Clark_Messi
"Football is everything"
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Nice update,
Getting more and more excited to see what the secret in the club is (Y)
Getting more and more excited to see what the secret in the club is (Y)
If there's a few more comments, I'll stick another update up.
good update again mate keep it up.
Chapter 6 – Game Day
The beautiful game had always been just that to Tomas: beautiful. He’d never really considered coaching until recently, and now football had taken over his life. His suspension had meant severe boredom with no-one around and the school game was the last of the season, against local rivals Obernai College.
John had been in touch again, this time he dropped round to Tomas’ house, but he brought good news and Tomas had been elated when he had been told that the #9 jersey and the captain’s armband were both waiting for him that evening.
Tomas was certainly capable of playing on the right wing, but it was the striker role that he really took to. A forward that enjoyed running at defenders, usually outpacing them and often outpowering them, Tomas had the combination every striker desires and that led to him topping the Ligue d’ecoles scoring charts by seven goals.
Fifty minutes in, and it was 2-2. Tomas had scored one, a powerful shot to the top left of the goal, and been involved in the other: a small chip over the opposing centre back left strike partner Raymond with nothing left to do except slot it past the oncoming keeper.
There’d been a grilling for the defense from the coach, but Tomas was happy with his performance so far and was brimming with confidence. But he knew he had to control the game as only three point would mean the school would win the league, and he would pick up the trophy.
The ball seemed to set up like a dream, around twenty yards out. A poor cross was headed away, but it was never going to get past Tomas, and he went by instinct. One touch and shoot. One touch and shoot. He knew what to do. Took a touch, thus setting himself up for the shot, and pulling back the right leg that had scored so many this season.
The knee slide that followed that goal was exquisite in the slightly damp pitch. And Tomas knew that would all but seal the Championship for his side. A fist pump was enough to show his passion, and he dismissed the shady looking man in a brown overcoat and hat, and received an appreciative nod from the coach.
The game had gone brilliantly, but it didn’t compare to lifting the trophy afterwards. Tomas had gone on to get a third, and complete his hattrick to finish the game off and make it 4-2 at the end of the ninety minutes.
The trophy would have Prevession-Moens College engraved on it for the third consecutive time, and it was certainly an honour. As Tomas raised the trophy above his head, he knew he needed more of this addictive feeling. As a coach, manager; whatever.
A quick appreciative word from the coach, congratulations from fans, and pats on the back from teammates, sent Tomas into whirls of happiness, and nothing could bring him down now. Absolutely nothing.
The beautiful game had always been just that to Tomas: beautiful. He’d never really considered coaching until recently, and now football had taken over his life. His suspension had meant severe boredom with no-one around and the school game was the last of the season, against local rivals Obernai College.
John had been in touch again, this time he dropped round to Tomas’ house, but he brought good news and Tomas had been elated when he had been told that the #9 jersey and the captain’s armband were both waiting for him that evening.
Tomas was certainly capable of playing on the right wing, but it was the striker role that he really took to. A forward that enjoyed running at defenders, usually outpacing them and often outpowering them, Tomas had the combination every striker desires and that led to him topping the Ligue d’ecoles scoring charts by seven goals.
*
Fifty minutes in, and it was 2-2. Tomas had scored one, a powerful shot to the top left of the goal, and been involved in the other: a small chip over the opposing centre back left strike partner Raymond with nothing left to do except slot it past the oncoming keeper.
There’d been a grilling for the defense from the coach, but Tomas was happy with his performance so far and was brimming with confidence. But he knew he had to control the game as only three point would mean the school would win the league, and he would pick up the trophy.
The ball seemed to set up like a dream, around twenty yards out. A poor cross was headed away, but it was never going to get past Tomas, and he went by instinct. One touch and shoot. One touch and shoot. He knew what to do. Took a touch, thus setting himself up for the shot, and pulling back the right leg that had scored so many this season.
The knee slide that followed that goal was exquisite in the slightly damp pitch. And Tomas knew that would all but seal the Championship for his side. A fist pump was enough to show his passion, and he dismissed the shady looking man in a brown overcoat and hat, and received an appreciative nod from the coach.
*
The game had gone brilliantly, but it didn’t compare to lifting the trophy afterwards. Tomas had gone on to get a third, and complete his hattrick to finish the game off and make it 4-2 at the end of the ninety minutes.
The trophy would have Prevession-Moens College engraved on it for the third consecutive time, and it was certainly an honour. As Tomas raised the trophy above his head, he knew he needed more of this addictive feeling. As a coach, manager; whatever.
A quick appreciative word from the coach, congratulations from fans, and pats on the back from teammates, sent Tomas into whirls of happiness, and nothing could bring him down now. Absolutely nothing.