Memoirs of a Slovak - The Second Chapter
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KidBlink56
I'm back, baby.
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I Forgot to subscribe to this "chapter" and I realized that I had missed a couple of entries. Not to worry though, I'm all caught up. Good read Kris.
Great writing once again, inspired meGo Sirkman!
Hopefully inspiring you to lay off the booze. ^^)
samillyroy
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pure genius
please carry on blud. get motivated
please carry on blud. get motivated
Fri 17th June 2011
The rain poured down intensely onto my face, as I watched over from the mud drenched touchline at S. Darius and S. Girėnas.
Once again, things were not going to plan, in fact it was a disaster. Despite changing the formation from our usual 4-2-3-1 to a flat 4-4-2, things just weren’t clicking. The defenders were getting caught out of position, not picking up there men, the central midfielders were sitting to deep and failed to link up with the forward line, which also seemed reluctant to push back.
The home support let out an unearthly roar as Vilnius striker Arturas Jersovas, slots home his second and their fourth of the night. With less than eight minutes left, this game is dead, It died long ago but everyone, including the referee knew it now, his job was done for tonight. What for me however?
We slip to 6th now; any hopes of regaining the title at the first attempt were dying fast. As i stared off into space, letting the rain descend onto my face, the departing crowd, which had finally decided to return to this great club, let out there anger and disgust at my handling of affairs. It appears all the work until now, means nothing.
* * *
Finally, the full time whistle blows and I depart down the tunnel, leaving the after match formalities for Robinson. **** he is my assistant; it’s what he is there for. I was in no mood to discussing yet another shambolic display of my players, or further yet, indulging in the media vultures intake of my failings.
I pick up the newspaper, left on my desk to a charming headline...
- Noskcoj's alcoholism affecting players and staff, board finally losing patience
* * *
I am fast learning that fame is fickle, when you’re winning; everyone loves you, a super star, evidently when things go astray you are a washed up, alcoholic with emotional difficulties.
As i through the paper in the trash, the chairman’s assistant, Anya...something knocked and entered her head.
‘Mr Noskcaj, the board request your presence in the boardroom, 11pm sharp’ she gave me a sympathetic smile as she closed the door.
‘Excellent’ i thought. Now i have to explain this mess to the money men.
...I could use a drink.
The rain poured down intensely onto my face, as I watched over from the mud drenched touchline at S. Darius and S. Girėnas.
Once again, things were not going to plan, in fact it was a disaster. Despite changing the formation from our usual 4-2-3-1 to a flat 4-4-2, things just weren’t clicking. The defenders were getting caught out of position, not picking up there men, the central midfielders were sitting to deep and failed to link up with the forward line, which also seemed reluctant to push back.
The home support let out an unearthly roar as Vilnius striker Arturas Jersovas, slots home his second and their fourth of the night. With less than eight minutes left, this game is dead, It died long ago but everyone, including the referee knew it now, his job was done for tonight. What for me however?
We slip to 6th now; any hopes of regaining the title at the first attempt were dying fast. As i stared off into space, letting the rain descend onto my face, the departing crowd, which had finally decided to return to this great club, let out there anger and disgust at my handling of affairs. It appears all the work until now, means nothing.
* * *
Finally, the full time whistle blows and I depart down the tunnel, leaving the after match formalities for Robinson. **** he is my assistant; it’s what he is there for. I was in no mood to discussing yet another shambolic display of my players, or further yet, indulging in the media vultures intake of my failings.
I pick up the newspaper, left on my desk to a charming headline...
- Noskcoj's alcoholism affecting players and staff, board finally losing patience
* * *
I am fast learning that fame is fickle, when you’re winning; everyone loves you, a super star, evidently when things go astray you are a washed up, alcoholic with emotional difficulties.
As i through the paper in the trash, the chairman’s assistant, Anya...something knocked and entered her head.
‘Mr Noskcaj, the board request your presence in the boardroom, 11pm sharp’ she gave me a sympathetic smile as she closed the door.
‘Excellent’ i thought. Now i have to explain this mess to the money men.
...I could use a drink.
Clark_Messi
"Football is everything"
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I've just caught up on both parts of this story.
Very good read.
Keep the updtaes coming (Y)
Very good read.
Keep the updtaes coming (Y)
Threw*
Good to see this back Kris, great writing.
No I did not, woops!
---------- Post added at 04:52 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:49 AM ----------
Friday 17th June 2011 (cont..)
It was nye on one thirty am when the meeting surpassed. I had certainly not expected that and clearly wasn’t ready to accept it.
‘Terminated’
* * *
I had arrived fashionably late, as always. If they are trivial enough to call a meeting at this time, rather than waiting until morning, I would make them endure a little tardiness.
* * *
From the moment I entered, I could tell something was a miss; eight dark glaring eyes stared at me from there brown leather chairs.
‘Sit down, Sirk’ demanded the majority shareholder, Mr Romanov.
He had flown in especially tonight, and is known for having little faith or patience with his foreign investment, Heart of Midlothian. I began to fear the worst.
‘It has been with much consideration, the board has unanimously concluded that you’re to be terminated with immediate effect’
Feeling as though I had been smacked by a steam train, I slumped down on my chair, struggling for words. I often describe myself as pugnacious, but at that moment, I could only submit.
Another member of the board continued where Romanov left off, ‘We have been monitoring the situation for some time now; avoiding passing judgement on your social antics, while the club met goals and re achieved back to back promotions.’ He sighed and started again
‘…however, with the latest string of performances and results, we feel you have lost the conviction and confidence of the players and the staff’ he concluded, and fell silent.
‘We wish to thank you for the sacrifice you made, moving here and for the services you provided over the last 22 months. It will not be forgotten’
* * *
This went on for the next hour and a half as the legal proceedings were dealt with, the rest of my backroom staff arrived to the same look of shock and disapproval.
Englishman Mark Robinson had only been my assistant for a few months and just found himself out of a job. I pleaded with the board to spare him but to no avail. It seems they already have there new man in position.
* * *
I couldn’t face the players, If it was true that I had lost there confidence, what good would saying goodbye do?
I instead decided to walk home and embrace the wind and rain. Looking back, face dripping wet, I realise I would never set foot here again.
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