Extracts from a Thought
- Thread starter Mike
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It's an MSN thing probably got tons of sheep ******* jokes thrown his way one nightThis is great.Keep it up Mike.
Josh, what's up with the obsession with sheep? XD
King James
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to say this is the best story I have read is a complete understatement. And you know what? You haven't even used FM yet!
This is brilliant mate, gripping storyline and great use of humour. This story could earn you legendary status if you keep going at this rate oO) ... I think this is an appropriate time to mention that I am also a big fan of sheep.
Mike
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Cheers, glad you like it. Beware of the sheep-obsessed Josh we have on our trails. I'm sure you've seen his comments.
Amazing story mate, can't wait until the next update
Thanks, you won't be waiting too long. Hopefully another hour and I'll have another update.
Indeed oO)
Mike
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August 16th, 2009
It was lunch time before I came around from my wonderful sleep. I checked my phone as usual to find I had a missed call, off an unrecognised number. Many people would leave it as it was, in the hope that they would phone back soon. I usually do that, but I wanted to find out who it was.
I dialled the number, but unfortunately it rung out. Probably not important anyway.
I sat and watched My Wife and Kids for a while (great program, highly recommended) when the phone rang again. I answered.
‘Congratulations on earning your spot here in Portugal. I shall be meeting you at the airport with my fellow Portuguese friend. See you soon, Michael.’
That was strange. Not even a word came out of my mouth. The accent, the voice was familiar, but I couldn’t put a face to it.
I’ll have to wait until September 1st to answer my question..
August 20th, 2009
Edging closer and closer towards my working holiday, and I’m starting to feel the nerves. I shouldn’t, though, as I’m dead excited to get started.
Today, we sat through a whole three hours of a few hour-long presentations by successfully qualified coaches who attended the same course: one spent a whole three years in South Africa, another taught in Japan for two years (and came back fluent!) and the last was teaching in South America. We had a fantastic time enjoying what they had to say about the course, what it was good for, positives and negatives, and gave us very useful information when teaching. Again, we had to write notes. I managed to fill a page, but half of it was scribbles!
An hour or so after I got back to the hotel room, I received a text from that same person who phoned not so long ago. The text read, ’11 days Mike. See you soon.’
It’s beyond me, it really is. I can still hear that voice and it’s very familiar!
It was lunch time before I came around from my wonderful sleep. I checked my phone as usual to find I had a missed call, off an unrecognised number. Many people would leave it as it was, in the hope that they would phone back soon. I usually do that, but I wanted to find out who it was.
I dialled the number, but unfortunately it rung out. Probably not important anyway.
I sat and watched My Wife and Kids for a while (great program, highly recommended) when the phone rang again. I answered.
‘Congratulations on earning your spot here in Portugal. I shall be meeting you at the airport with my fellow Portuguese friend. See you soon, Michael.’
That was strange. Not even a word came out of my mouth. The accent, the voice was familiar, but I couldn’t put a face to it.
I’ll have to wait until September 1st to answer my question..
August 20th, 2009
Edging closer and closer towards my working holiday, and I’m starting to feel the nerves. I shouldn’t, though, as I’m dead excited to get started.
Today, we sat through a whole three hours of a few hour-long presentations by successfully qualified coaches who attended the same course: one spent a whole three years in South Africa, another taught in Japan for two years (and came back fluent!) and the last was teaching in South America. We had a fantastic time enjoying what they had to say about the course, what it was good for, positives and negatives, and gave us very useful information when teaching. Again, we had to write notes. I managed to fill a page, but half of it was scribbles!
An hour or so after I got back to the hotel room, I received a text from that same person who phoned not so long ago. The text read, ’11 days Mike. See you soon.’
It’s beyond me, it really is. I can still hear that voice and it’s very familiar!
Mike
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August 21st, 2009
A somewhat unusual day today. We went on a ‘trip’ to the countryside. We were told that many of us will be teaching in and around fields like these. Yes, I got mocked by a few people – more Josh and Jamie than anyone else – with sheep jokes. Hey, I’m used to it, but they just go on about it!
We turned into a field (not magically; the bus driver directed us into one, just thought I’d clear that up) and all got off for a kick about. We were reminded that the majority will be teaching and playing on fields and muddy areas as such. It was tough to anticipate the bounce of the ball. You know that saying ‘Karma’s a *****’? Yeah, well Josh got the ball square between the eyes and Jamie got trampled by a sheep. Not really, but that’s how I saw it. Jamie got nudged by a sheep.
We eventually set off for the beach, where again we were told some people will have to cope with the sandy dunes and hot temperatures. You remember that quote ‘Karma’s a *****’? Yeah, well, nothing happened this time.
We all ate together – fish and pasta! – tonight as a special ‘get-together’ and give us the opportunity to give each other advice or go over stuff we’ve taught and just have a laugh really.
It could really only mean one thing… Food fight!
A somewhat unusual day today. We went on a ‘trip’ to the countryside. We were told that many of us will be teaching in and around fields like these. Yes, I got mocked by a few people – more Josh and Jamie than anyone else – with sheep jokes. Hey, I’m used to it, but they just go on about it!
We turned into a field (not magically; the bus driver directed us into one, just thought I’d clear that up) and all got off for a kick about. We were reminded that the majority will be teaching and playing on fields and muddy areas as such. It was tough to anticipate the bounce of the ball. You know that saying ‘Karma’s a *****’? Yeah, well Josh got the ball square between the eyes and Jamie got trampled by a sheep. Not really, but that’s how I saw it. Jamie got nudged by a sheep.
We eventually set off for the beach, where again we were told some people will have to cope with the sandy dunes and hot temperatures. You remember that quote ‘Karma’s a *****’? Yeah, well, nothing happened this time.
. . . . .
We all ate together – fish and pasta! – tonight as a special ‘get-together’ and give us the opportunity to give each other advice or go over stuff we’ve taught and just have a laugh really.
It could really only mean one thing… Food fight!
King James
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anymore updates soon?
Mike
Like a glove!
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August 21st, 2009 (cont.)
The meal was messy – walls plastered in tomato sauce, with the odd piece of salmon laying about the place. We all enjoyed, which was the main part. I think a couple of the lads learnt a few goalkeeper skills by dodging the flying food.
I returned to the hotel room to enjoy a nice bag of Tavener’s Toasted Teacakes and a can of coke. Not the ideal ‘dessert’ but it’ll do.
August 27th, 2009
I finished packing for Portugal today. I spent most of the day yesterday in the physio room and in hospital for treatment on my foot. Turns out I only had a couple of broken toes, so that will halt my progress for two weeks or so.
I had an unexpected call from at around midday. It was my mother, who congratulated me, and even shed a tear at the thought of me actually doing something in my life!
A little later, a few of the boys came round to ‘discuss things’ in my room. That’s right, my room. Am I special? Or am I being taken advantage of? Anyway, we shared a couple of beers each and spoke about our excitement of flying to our respective destinations. So to answer my question, no I’m not special. And I’m not being taken advantage of. We’re just gathering for a social!
August 29th, 2009
It’s edging closer towards September and Portugal. I looked around the hotel room.
‘I’ve been here less than two months, but I sure will miss you!’
I can’t believe I’m off to Portugal in three days’ time. It’s going to be weird leaving even more people behind and meeting (hopefully friendly) foreigners. I still couldn’t put a face to the voice that spoke to me on the phone. It was familiar, too familiar that I couldn’t imagine a being with it.
Two bleeps in succession signalled a text on my phone.
It was the worst text imaginable.
August 29th, 2009 (cont.)
Gazing down at the phone, I read the message in my head.
‘Not now. This can’t be happening!’
Three days, I thought, short of going on a dream year to Portugal, teaching youngsters the skill that is football. And I get this, this awkward, blasphemous text.
I switched off my phone and lay down on the bed. My heart raced as if I was hiding from a burglar, or a killer sheep. This wasn’t good, and did I know it!
August 30th, 2009
Today was Sunday, and it all started with a text message, one different to the one yesterday. It was an easing message from the same person.
I’m sorry I had to break it to you this way. I don’t know how you’re feeling, but please let me know xx
****. What do I do? Believe her? There was only one way to find out. And that was to see her. But it’s too late for that.
The afternoon began with a visit from a female physio working at Wembley. Her flowing black locks and sparkling brown eyes drew attention from most of the unfit, beer-belly clan we call ourselves coaches. She was doing ‘home-visits’ to see if we needed any final examinations before setting off on holiday.
‘Yeah, my ****’s hurting. Fancy tugging it better, love?’
I wouldn’t say that out loud, mind. She probably has a muscular, good-looking fella that could squish me like a spider under a shoe.
The TV was boring me – I needed to do something to keep me sane for the night.
I rang a couple of people back in Wales to keep up-to-date with the goings-on in the place. Nothing seemed to take my fancy, though. I’d much rather be living it up in the sun in Portugal than to travel back to Sheepland. But nothing I did took my mind away from that text 24 hours ago.
In six months time, you’re gonna be a dad ***
‘**** off! No way this is happening!’
This text was from my ex-girlfriend, the one I ended relations with just a couple of months ago. I remember we had *** one final time. A mistake, I know, but I couldn’t say no to *** on a plate from a stunner.
Slag.
August 31st, 2009
I fly tomorrow – I’m dead excited, yet I feel tense and uneasy. I’m somewhat nervous knowing in just over 24 hours I’ll be landing in Portugal. In Lisbon.
I decided to leave my mobile phone switched off as I try to chill on my final day in England for a whole year. At least, I thought I’d be able to chill; there was knocking on my door every ******* hour. Jamie. Edward. The training coaches. Wembley staff.
It was getting annoying, to say the least.
It was 2:36 pm as I fell asleep for a ‘power nap’.
Sweat trickled down my forehead as I looked at the clock when I awoke – 9:22 pm. I had slept for nearly a whole 8 hours more than the planned one.
‘No sleep for me tonight!’
Bored out of my mind, I logged on to FM-Base to catch up with the latest about the unknown wonderkids and the like. Not much on there, so I switched to Facebook, to TheFA.com, to Arsenal.com, to YouTube. There were several others, but I shouldn’t name them.
It was pushing eleven when I next shot a glance at the clock. I’m up at six. My flight’s at 9. I need to get to bed, but I’m not tired.
****** power naps.
The meal was messy – walls plastered in tomato sauce, with the odd piece of salmon laying about the place. We all enjoyed, which was the main part. I think a couple of the lads learnt a few goalkeeper skills by dodging the flying food.
I returned to the hotel room to enjoy a nice bag of Tavener’s Toasted Teacakes and a can of coke. Not the ideal ‘dessert’ but it’ll do.
August 27th, 2009
I finished packing for Portugal today. I spent most of the day yesterday in the physio room and in hospital for treatment on my foot. Turns out I only had a couple of broken toes, so that will halt my progress for two weeks or so.
I had an unexpected call from at around midday. It was my mother, who congratulated me, and even shed a tear at the thought of me actually doing something in my life!
A little later, a few of the boys came round to ‘discuss things’ in my room. That’s right, my room. Am I special? Or am I being taken advantage of? Anyway, we shared a couple of beers each and spoke about our excitement of flying to our respective destinations. So to answer my question, no I’m not special. And I’m not being taken advantage of. We’re just gathering for a social!
August 29th, 2009
It’s edging closer towards September and Portugal. I looked around the hotel room.
‘I’ve been here less than two months, but I sure will miss you!’
I can’t believe I’m off to Portugal in three days’ time. It’s going to be weird leaving even more people behind and meeting (hopefully friendly) foreigners. I still couldn’t put a face to the voice that spoke to me on the phone. It was familiar, too familiar that I couldn’t imagine a being with it.
Two bleeps in succession signalled a text on my phone.
It was the worst text imaginable.
August 29th, 2009 (cont.)
Gazing down at the phone, I read the message in my head.
‘Not now. This can’t be happening!’
Three days, I thought, short of going on a dream year to Portugal, teaching youngsters the skill that is football. And I get this, this awkward, blasphemous text.
I switched off my phone and lay down on the bed. My heart raced as if I was hiding from a burglar, or a killer sheep. This wasn’t good, and did I know it!
August 30th, 2009
Today was Sunday, and it all started with a text message, one different to the one yesterday. It was an easing message from the same person.
I’m sorry I had to break it to you this way. I don’t know how you’re feeling, but please let me know xx
****. What do I do? Believe her? There was only one way to find out. And that was to see her. But it’s too late for that.
. . . . .
The afternoon began with a visit from a female physio working at Wembley. Her flowing black locks and sparkling brown eyes drew attention from most of the unfit, beer-belly clan we call ourselves coaches. She was doing ‘home-visits’ to see if we needed any final examinations before setting off on holiday.
‘Yeah, my ****’s hurting. Fancy tugging it better, love?’
I wouldn’t say that out loud, mind. She probably has a muscular, good-looking fella that could squish me like a spider under a shoe.
. . . . .
The TV was boring me – I needed to do something to keep me sane for the night.
I rang a couple of people back in Wales to keep up-to-date with the goings-on in the place. Nothing seemed to take my fancy, though. I’d much rather be living it up in the sun in Portugal than to travel back to Sheepland. But nothing I did took my mind away from that text 24 hours ago.
In six months time, you’re gonna be a dad ***
‘**** off! No way this is happening!’
This text was from my ex-girlfriend, the one I ended relations with just a couple of months ago. I remember we had *** one final time. A mistake, I know, but I couldn’t say no to *** on a plate from a stunner.
Slag.
August 31st, 2009
I fly tomorrow – I’m dead excited, yet I feel tense and uneasy. I’m somewhat nervous knowing in just over 24 hours I’ll be landing in Portugal. In Lisbon.
I decided to leave my mobile phone switched off as I try to chill on my final day in England for a whole year. At least, I thought I’d be able to chill; there was knocking on my door every ******* hour. Jamie. Edward. The training coaches. Wembley staff.
It was getting annoying, to say the least.
It was 2:36 pm as I fell asleep for a ‘power nap’.
. . . . .
Sweat trickled down my forehead as I looked at the clock when I awoke – 9:22 pm. I had slept for nearly a whole 8 hours more than the planned one.
‘No sleep for me tonight!’
Bored out of my mind, I logged on to FM-Base to catch up with the latest about the unknown wonderkids and the like. Not much on there, so I switched to Facebook, to TheFA.com, to Arsenal.com, to YouTube. There were several others, but I shouldn’t name them.
It was pushing eleven when I next shot a glance at the clock. I’m up at six. My flight’s at 9. I need to get to bed, but I’m not tired.
****** power naps.