I'm enjoying having a bit of creative license with this one. With all the in depth storyline elsewhere, it means I can continue to add to it while I'm too busy to actually play the game. I haven't actually had the file loaded in maybe 3/4 days, but I can still add to Luis outside of football. It's wonderfully refreshing.
Luis Garcia - The New Manager On The Block
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I'm enjoying having a bit of creative license with this one. With all the in depth storyline elsewhere, it means I can continue to add to it while I'm too busy to actually play the game. I haven't actually had the file loaded in maybe 3/4 days, but I can still add to Luis outside of football. It's wonderfully refreshing.
10.00 pm
As requested, I was stood in the plaza outside the Artemio Franchi. I wasn't really sure why I'd agreed to this. Thankfully, there were a few people milling around near the bars and clubs. No-one in the immediate vicinity though.
----
10.05pm
Whoever I was supposed to be meeting was late. They had said I knew who it was. I didn't have any clue at all. I didn't recognise the phone number. I suspected Longhi; after all, I'd just got him sacked yet again. Would he be so stupid though? Who knows.
------
10.15pm
Still nothing. I decided with training the next day, that was it. I had more important business to attend to. I turned to leave, when something hit me in the shoulder. I looked around. There was no-one nearby. My vision became cloudy, and I started to lose my balance. I wobbled, and fell; the pavement rushed towards me at a hundred miles an hour. There was a faint scream nearby, but I was struggling to register what it said.
Then, there was nothing but darkness.
As requested, I was stood in the plaza outside the Artemio Franchi. I wasn't really sure why I'd agreed to this. Thankfully, there were a few people milling around near the bars and clubs. No-one in the immediate vicinity though.
----
10.05pm
Whoever I was supposed to be meeting was late. They had said I knew who it was. I didn't have any clue at all. I didn't recognise the phone number. I suspected Longhi; after all, I'd just got him sacked yet again. Would he be so stupid though? Who knows.
------
10.15pm
Still nothing. I decided with training the next day, that was it. I had more important business to attend to. I turned to leave, when something hit me in the shoulder. I looked around. There was no-one nearby. My vision became cloudy, and I started to lose my balance. I wobbled, and fell; the pavement rushed towards me at a hundred miles an hour. There was a faint scream nearby, but I was struggling to register what it said.
Then, there was nothing but darkness.
Plot Twist: The butler did it.
I'd miss the last two weeks of pre-season, as I was in no condition to be at the club; not after what happened. The plaza was still shut to the public, and our last friendly had been re-arranged. I'd been told the amount of flowers and tributes left by fans of a variety of clubs was a sight to behold. Football had come together behind one of their own.
The bullet had hit me high in the shoulder, striking and breaking the joint. Turns out the reason everything went dark for me was me smashing my face into the pavement. I'd also acquired a broken nose from that, just to add insult to injury. Thankfully, I never made the critical list. I was very much out of it for a few days though, as they had to manage the pain on the broken shoulder. If I hadn't have turned to leave though.... well, I wouldn't be lying here now.
It was a couple of days before I found out what had happened. Daniele had come in to see me, and explained everything. It was ****** Longhi. The idiot had registered a new phone number just to message me. In addition, the moron had been caught on security cameras disposing of the spent rifle casings in a nearby drain. He'd even turned up late to ****** shoot me! He'd been arrested the next day.
The reason for it was what I really found disturbing. My goal in 2005 against Chelsea was often talked about. It was a goal though, no question. However, it turns out Longhi had staked his house on the line with some rather shady characters on the match. He lost, and had some significant debt to pay. He was sinking into a pool of debt. He'd lost his wife, his kids, his original job. I surmised it didn't help that I then cost him two more. Given I was the unfortunate player to have cost him this, he held a grudge. A grudge which had subsided until I came to Italy, to Fiorentina. Something snapped within him.
He had told detectives, quite calmly, that all he could think about was destroying me in the same way I destroyed him. He'd tried to disgrace me, intimidate me into leaving, and then finally remove me permanently. I shuddered. Even just the thought of that psychopath was not doing me any favours.
Della Valle had also been in. He'd been most accommodating, allowing me as much time as I needed to get myself back to a level I could be comfortable with. I asked to be excused from the trip to China, not that I was fit enough to attend anyway.
Would I ever be back though? It had been a rough time for me in Italy, and despite results on field, off field had been chaos. After this stuff with Longhi, would life ever be normal again? I had a lot to consider. I'd become exceedingly fond of Fiorentina the club, and my rapport with the board/players had never been higher. Only time would tell. I had to focus on getting ready for the league season. We started at home, and I wasn't going to let the fans down. Then I'd address my inner demons.
The bullet had hit me high in the shoulder, striking and breaking the joint. Turns out the reason everything went dark for me was me smashing my face into the pavement. I'd also acquired a broken nose from that, just to add insult to injury. Thankfully, I never made the critical list. I was very much out of it for a few days though, as they had to manage the pain on the broken shoulder. If I hadn't have turned to leave though.... well, I wouldn't be lying here now.
It was a couple of days before I found out what had happened. Daniele had come in to see me, and explained everything. It was ****** Longhi. The idiot had registered a new phone number just to message me. In addition, the moron had been caught on security cameras disposing of the spent rifle casings in a nearby drain. He'd even turned up late to ****** shoot me! He'd been arrested the next day.
The reason for it was what I really found disturbing. My goal in 2005 against Chelsea was often talked about. It was a goal though, no question. However, it turns out Longhi had staked his house on the line with some rather shady characters on the match. He lost, and had some significant debt to pay. He was sinking into a pool of debt. He'd lost his wife, his kids, his original job. I surmised it didn't help that I then cost him two more. Given I was the unfortunate player to have cost him this, he held a grudge. A grudge which had subsided until I came to Italy, to Fiorentina. Something snapped within him.
He had told detectives, quite calmly, that all he could think about was destroying me in the same way I destroyed him. He'd tried to disgrace me, intimidate me into leaving, and then finally remove me permanently. I shuddered. Even just the thought of that psychopath was not doing me any favours.
Della Valle had also been in. He'd been most accommodating, allowing me as much time as I needed to get myself back to a level I could be comfortable with. I asked to be excused from the trip to China, not that I was fit enough to attend anyway.
Would I ever be back though? It had been a rough time for me in Italy, and despite results on field, off field had been chaos. After this stuff with Longhi, would life ever be normal again? I had a lot to consider. I'd become exceedingly fond of Fiorentina the club, and my rapport with the board/players had never been higher. Only time would tell. I had to focus on getting ready for the league season. We started at home, and I wasn't going to let the fans down. Then I'd address my inner demons.
ninjaskill
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Indy caught up great story what will happen next is the Liverpool job open
Seven days after I'd left hospital, and I'd spoken to the club once. I'd quickly confirmed Michael Ballack's appointment to our youth team, then put the phone down. Despite what I had told everyone, I wasn't quite coping.
It wasn't the shooting that bothered me, I'd had worse injuries on the pitch. It was the fact that I'd been held responsible for this man's life crumbling that unnerved me. I knew it wasn't my fault. I had never met the man then, **** I was in a different country. But deep down, I knew that one of the greatest moments of my playing career had been soured by recent events.
Half of me wanted to run. I knew there would be jobs on other continents. There'd be less questions about events here, and I could largely escape it. But that was the cowards way out.
My other choice was to stay. This was just another injury, I could beat it. The mental aspect would take time. Somehow I suspected that would stay with me for a while. Wounds heal. Eventually.
I'd got a lot of decisions to make over the next two days. There were fourty-eight hours until kickoff with Verona. Fourty-Eight hours to decide whether I was staying in Firenze.
It wasn't the shooting that bothered me, I'd had worse injuries on the pitch. It was the fact that I'd been held responsible for this man's life crumbling that unnerved me. I knew it wasn't my fault. I had never met the man then, **** I was in a different country. But deep down, I knew that one of the greatest moments of my playing career had been soured by recent events.
Half of me wanted to run. I knew there would be jobs on other continents. There'd be less questions about events here, and I could largely escape it. But that was the cowards way out.
My other choice was to stay. This was just another injury, I could beat it. The mental aspect would take time. Somehow I suspected that would stay with me for a while. Wounds heal. Eventually.
I'd got a lot of decisions to make over the next two days. There were fourty-eight hours until kickoff with Verona. Fourty-Eight hours to decide whether I was staying in Firenze.
No idea in terms of where Garcia will be next. Liverpool are still with Rodgers, which I'm glad about, I think it would be too early for the Liverpool move, especially with recent developments. It wouldn't quite suit the story yet. Definitely on the list somewhere down the line though
Come Saturday, I still had no answers. The Verona game was postponed until the Wednesday; it had given me more time to think. I spent the whole of the Friday in my home, racking my brains in the hope I would find an answer.
At midnight, still having not slept for twenty-four hours, I left the house. I had one destination in mind; the plaza outside the Artemio Franchi. It would be the first time I would have been there since it happened.
It was a cool night, with a hint of drizzle. The town was quiet, blissfully so. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I had one thing on my mind; reach the plaza. It was a short walk away, but I strode there with a real sense of urgency. Then I saw it.
Across the entire plaza was a sea of purple. Shirts, flowers, banners, the works. I stopped dead still. Every so often, my eyes would pick out the odd Juventus shirt, or maybe a Roma shirt on occasion. The way Daniele had described it couldn't have done the sight justice. It was simply overwhelming.
I crouched, and looked at some of the messages. Each one of them had the same general theme - my wellbeing, and their desire to see me back in the dugout. It was upon this reflection that I realised something important. This wasn't about me anymore.
The fans had piled out in their droves, and turned what was a nightmare place for me into a beacon of hope. If I was to quit now, I'd be letting down all the fans that had put their faith in me. I couldn't do that, not to them.
I spent a further two hours at the site, looking at the scene before me. As I left, I had a renewed sense of purpose. For the first time in my managerial career, it wasn't about my personal success. This one was for the fans, and I was determined to make this their best season yet.
At midnight, still having not slept for twenty-four hours, I left the house. I had one destination in mind; the plaza outside the Artemio Franchi. It would be the first time I would have been there since it happened.
It was a cool night, with a hint of drizzle. The town was quiet, blissfully so. I didn't want to speak to anyone. I had one thing on my mind; reach the plaza. It was a short walk away, but I strode there with a real sense of urgency. Then I saw it.
Across the entire plaza was a sea of purple. Shirts, flowers, banners, the works. I stopped dead still. Every so often, my eyes would pick out the odd Juventus shirt, or maybe a Roma shirt on occasion. The way Daniele had described it couldn't have done the sight justice. It was simply overwhelming.
I crouched, and looked at some of the messages. Each one of them had the same general theme - my wellbeing, and their desire to see me back in the dugout. It was upon this reflection that I realised something important. This wasn't about me anymore.
The fans had piled out in their droves, and turned what was a nightmare place for me into a beacon of hope. If I was to quit now, I'd be letting down all the fans that had put their faith in me. I couldn't do that, not to them.
I spent a further two hours at the site, looking at the scene before me. As I left, I had a renewed sense of purpose. For the first time in my managerial career, it wasn't about my personal success. This one was for the fans, and I was determined to make this their best season yet.
I hadn't actually told the lads I would be back for the Verona game. I had informed Russo of my selection; he'd got everything set up for me. My plan was to meet them in the changing room before the game.
I navigated the back alleys to get to the Artemio Franchi, and waited, tucked away in the lounge. It had been closed off for renovations, so I was safe enough from detection. I heard the lads go past, they sounded stoked for the game.
As I approached the changing room, I could hear Daniele Russo going through the line up. Dosso was in to start, I was proud for the kid. He'd come a long way since coming through the youth grads. I entered the room. A couple of the coaching staff notice, but I held a finger to my lips. They got the point and said nothing.
Russo was getting to the end of his speech. "And remember lads, this is for the gaffer."
"Too ****** right it is!" I interjected. The lads turned around, startled at first. Once it dawned on them who it was, their faces broke into smiles. Cheers went up, and there was a lot of hugging and handshakes all around. Once it had settled down, I spoke.
"Last season, we started badly. It's why I'm here after all. We can't let that happen this time. You've seen the shirts outside, you've seen what the fans are capable of. We owe them a good season. They've stuck by me and the club the last couple of weeks, the best way we can repay them is by giving them silverware. It starts here tonight, let's go thump Verona into the middle of next week." That struck a chord. We were given the nod to leave the changing room.
We lined up, with me at the head of the column. I could see the sea of purple in the stadium. It was good to be back again.
I navigated the back alleys to get to the Artemio Franchi, and waited, tucked away in the lounge. It had been closed off for renovations, so I was safe enough from detection. I heard the lads go past, they sounded stoked for the game.
As I approached the changing room, I could hear Daniele Russo going through the line up. Dosso was in to start, I was proud for the kid. He'd come a long way since coming through the youth grads. I entered the room. A couple of the coaching staff notice, but I held a finger to my lips. They got the point and said nothing.
Russo was getting to the end of his speech. "And remember lads, this is for the gaffer."
"Too ****** right it is!" I interjected. The lads turned around, startled at first. Once it dawned on them who it was, their faces broke into smiles. Cheers went up, and there was a lot of hugging and handshakes all around. Once it had settled down, I spoke.
"Last season, we started badly. It's why I'm here after all. We can't let that happen this time. You've seen the shirts outside, you've seen what the fans are capable of. We owe them a good season. They've stuck by me and the club the last couple of weeks, the best way we can repay them is by giving them silverware. It starts here tonight, let's go thump Verona into the middle of next week." That struck a chord. We were given the nod to leave the changing room.
We lined up, with me at the head of the column. I could see the sea of purple in the stadium. It was good to be back again.
I now understood why coming here was such a daunting task. When you face a wall of purple like that, you can't help but feel a little intimidated.
As mentioned, the fans didn't know I was back. So the noise within the stadium hit an all time high as I emerged from the tunnel. It was a magnificent sight to behold. If Verona weren't sh*tting themselves at this point, they certainly were now. Chants of "Garcia" went around the ground as I took my seat. Game very much on.
We battered them into submission in the end. 3 goals in the first half an hour ended the game as a contest. Murillo got one on debut, before Ntep carried on where he left off last season. Two superb finishes gave us the game. Jo did score for Verona but they were dead and buried when Dessena was sent off.
Routine win for us on what was definitely not a routine day. The football world was a crazy world alright.
View attachment 242808As mentioned, the fans didn't know I was back. So the noise within the stadium hit an all time high as I emerged from the tunnel. It was a magnificent sight to behold. If Verona weren't sh*tting themselves at this point, they certainly were now. Chants of "Garcia" went around the ground as I took my seat. Game very much on.
We battered them into submission in the end. 3 goals in the first half an hour ended the game as a contest. Murillo got one on debut, before Ntep carried on where he left off last season. Two superb finishes gave us the game. Jo did score for Verona but they were dead and buried when Dessena was sent off.
Routine win for us on what was definitely not a routine day. The football world was a crazy world alright.
Luis is currently on holiday through stress related illness...
In seriousness, what with other projects ongoing, and a work schedule that isn't convenient, I've just not had time. I may revisit it on Tuesday when I get home though, will be the first day I actually have time.