pistolped7
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Please comment or leave some sort of feedback so I knwo where I can improve. This is my first sstory with this type of writing, so any help would be appreciated.
Gérer les Gones
Chapitre I - Si cela a été une mauvaise année...
Première Partie - An Unexpected Visitor
Première Partie - An Unexpected Visitor
As he drove into the car park outside the Stade Gerland, Claude Puel peered up at the sky. It was a clear day and the sun was beating down. As he stepped out of his Citroen C5 and strolled calmly towards the door of the stadium, nodding at the stadium staff as he passed them, Puel pulled out his mobile phone, which was vibrating in his pocket.
'Board meeting at 2pm tomorrow, you're invited. Stay safe.
Georges'
His smile faded as he read the message sent from the club's director, and frown replaced it, before putting the phone back in his pocket and continuing his journey to his office.
As he pulled out his keys, jangling them around in his struggle to find the right one. Eventually he found it, and duly unlocked the door to the room. It was tidily kept, with several folders and pieces of paper paper clipped together neatly on his wooden desk. Taking off his jacket and putting it over his chair, he sat down in his black leather chair and opened his drawer. There he found a number of folders, bursting with papers, photos and other items bearing information on players.
He pulled one out and licked the tip of his index finger, then proceeded to leaf through it. He read over the notes supplied by his chief scout, Remi Garde.
'Board meeting at 2pm tomorrow, you're invited. Stay safe.
Georges'
His smile faded as he read the message sent from the club's director, and frown replaced it, before putting the phone back in his pocket and continuing his journey to his office.
As he pulled out his keys, jangling them around in his struggle to find the right one. Eventually he found it, and duly unlocked the door to the room. It was tidily kept, with several folders and pieces of paper paper clipped together neatly on his wooden desk. Taking off his jacket and putting it over his chair, he sat down in his black leather chair and opened his drawer. There he found a number of folders, bursting with papers, photos and other items bearing information on players.
He pulled one out and licked the tip of his index finger, then proceeded to leaf through it. He read over the notes supplied by his chief scout, Remi Garde.
Garde had been sent by Puel to scout one player in particular, a player who Puel had been monitoring himself for some time. He studied the notes carefully, highlighting words and sentences written by his scout that he judged to be important. Sweating heavily in the heat, he flicked a switch on the wall, turning on a fan, which slowly rotated, giving him a welcome cool breeze every few seconds. After a while of looking at the reports, there was a knock on the door. He called for the visitor to come in, and they obliged, closing the door and shuffled over to his desk.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Puel." said the visitor, whose voice Puel did not recognise.
"Bonjour. Please, have a seat."
Puel gestured towards a seat, far less inviting than Puel's super comfortable leather throne. He sat on the cream colored chair, squirmed to get himself comfortable, and smiled towards Puel.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Puel." said the visitor, whose voice Puel did not recognise.
"Bonjour. Please, have a seat."
Puel gestured towards a seat, far less inviting than Puel's super comfortable leather throne. He sat on the cream colored chair, squirmed to get himself comfortable, and smiled towards Puel.
An awkward silence lasted for a few moments before the visitor peeped up.
"I'm here to negotiate a deal with you over our client."
The silence continued while Puel tried to guess which 'client' his unexpected guest.
"Monsieur Briand?" the guest said, trying to establish who he was talking about.
Puel nodded and pulled from his drawer the file on Jimmy Briand, the Stade Rennais striker who scored 8 goals in 27 games for Les Rouges et Noirs last season. He also played 3 times for France, and the 23 year old was estimated to be worth €6,000,000. Puel was instructed by Jean-Michel Aulas, the chairman, not to exceed this amount.
"I was not aware that you were coming, Monsieur..."
"Monsieur Puel, I am Patrick Rampillion and I am the director of football at Stade Rennais. I'd like to get this over with quickly as I must catch a flight to Geneva, so I'll only take offers for Monsieur Briand upwards of €12,000,000."
Puel chuckled and shook his head.
"I'm here to negotiate a deal with you over our client."
The silence continued while Puel tried to guess which 'client' his unexpected guest.
"Monsieur Briand?" the guest said, trying to establish who he was talking about.
Puel nodded and pulled from his drawer the file on Jimmy Briand, the Stade Rennais striker who scored 8 goals in 27 games for Les Rouges et Noirs last season. He also played 3 times for France, and the 23 year old was estimated to be worth €6,000,000. Puel was instructed by Jean-Michel Aulas, the chairman, not to exceed this amount.
"I was not aware that you were coming, Monsieur..."
"Monsieur Puel, I am Patrick Rampillion and I am the director of football at Stade Rennais. I'd like to get this over with quickly as I must catch a flight to Geneva, so I'll only take offers for Monsieur Briand upwards of €12,000,000."
Puel chuckled and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Rampillion, but that is far too much. I will pay nothing above six."
Rampillion lit a cigar and blew it towards the opened window next to him, and he looked out towards the field in the Stade Gerland, observed the groundsmen chatting at the side of the pitch. He took the cup of coffee that Puel had made for him, and nodded in his direction, before turning back to the field.
"Jimmy Briand is our best player, six million is derisory."
Puel stood firm. "Six million - take it or leave it."
After much deliberation, debating and negotiating, and several hours later, the two sides struck a deal. And Puel had gotten his way. Jimmy Briand would be a Lyon player for just €6 million, an absolute bargain.
Puel and Rampillion shook hands (although somewhat begrudgingly on Rampillion's part) and the Renne director was on his way. Puel sat down in his seat and pondered whether or not the directors and chairman would take pity on him for his somewhat poor season.
Rampillion lit a cigar and blew it towards the opened window next to him, and he looked out towards the field in the Stade Gerland, observed the groundsmen chatting at the side of the pitch. He took the cup of coffee that Puel had made for him, and nodded in his direction, before turning back to the field.
"Jimmy Briand is our best player, six million is derisory."
Puel stood firm. "Six million - take it or leave it."
After much deliberation, debating and negotiating, and several hours later, the two sides struck a deal. And Puel had gotten his way. Jimmy Briand would be a Lyon player for just €6 million, an absolute bargain.
Puel and Rampillion shook hands (although somewhat begrudgingly on Rampillion's part) and the Renne director was on his way. Puel sat down in his seat and pondered whether or not the directors and chairman would take pity on him for his somewhat poor season.
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