Prologue - Part 1
I looked around… I couldn’t believe it…. My Tooting & Mitcham United side had just won the second division of the Isthmian League. There were fans running about like crazy! It had been a hard slog to get here, I stood there and looked back to my playing career, a journeyman lower leaguer, the highest level I had played at was League 2. I had eeked out a living though. I cast my mind back to 7 years previously when, aged 28, I got the offer to do some coaching badges whilst still playing. Then, following that, I got the opportunity to join the youth coaching ranks at Chelsea – it was a no brainer. I was proving to be a far better coach than I ever was player.
View attachment 242186
To start with I worked with the under 11’s, prior to that they don’t get a lot of work with tactics, it was my job to begin introducing them to the X’s and O’s. I continued to do so and continued to work my way up the Chelsea coaching tree. Over the space of the next five years I worked with older and older children and before long I was working full time with the under 19’s. There were times I was even given the responsibilities of taking the U19 side during matches and occasionally I got to work with the first team, usually in the film room breaking down tactics.
Coming forward in time this past season I had sensed that in order to take that next step I needed to move out into management. I had good coaching skills to be sure. Chelsea had even paid for me to undertake two continental qualifications so that I now held the 2nd highest possible coaching certificate. Still there weren’t many sides that were willing to take the punt on me. I had some Conference sides tell me that if I could prove I could lead a team they would consider me so I had searched high and low to find this opportunity.
So here I was, at a stadium that seats about 600 people, celebrating what should be my ticket to the next level. Except, I know it’s not. At 35 my managerial career is over. Not for any bad reasons mind you! There, there she is… Vanessa, I had met her at the beginning of the preseason travelling on the train into London. Tooting & Mitcham are based in Morden, Surrey however I lived closer to Wimbeldon and although my living arrangements were most definitely on the modest side this was considered a reasonably affluent area. We had met and got to chatting. I told her about my managerial aspirations and my current role with Tooting and Mitcham and she told me about how she was working as a receptionist at Begbies Trayner, a professional services company.
That began a whirlwind romance. With both of us being the wrong side of 30, me 35 and her 33, we had no interest in wasting time. It wasn’t long before we had moved in together and 6 months after we met we were engaged. I don’t really have any family that I keep in any real kind of touch with but her family were very welcoming. Well, I should say that eventually they were, it turns out her Dad David was a Partner at the Begbies Traynor Paddington office and initially he wasn’t real keen on his daughter becoming a football widow. Once I started explaining that I had actually been a very good student and finished my schooling with 5 A levels and then had gone on to study at University part time externally whilst I was playing, eventually graduating with a Bachelor of Accounting from the University of Kent, well, then we were all good. I think it was the part where I told him that I had actually worked in the PricewaterhouseCoopers Embankment office for a year to supplement my income when I was rehabbing a knee reconstruction early in my career that really sealed his approval though.
I raced over to her and her family. Dave took my hand and shook it vigorously, “well done mate” he said. I gave her mum Gail a quick kiss on the cheek before taking Vanessa in my arms and lifting her around me. “Careful,” she said, “You don’t want to hurt the baby!!” I knelt down and kissed her stomach. She was 12 weeks pregnant. We had only told her family earlier in the week when we had popped over to their beautiful house for dinner. The first thing her Dad did after congratulating me was to take me down into their cellar, he handed me a Cuban cigar and a cutter. “I’ve had these waiting for years for this moment!” He said, he really was larger than life. “Now, tell me, how much do you earn?” I was a little shocked, “what do you mean?” I inquired. “You, you and Vanessa are living in a one bedroom flat still?” He pressed. “Yes, that’s correct.” I admitted. “Now I know exactly what Vanessa earns, what do you earn?” He wasn’t letting up. “250 quid a week.” I said with an air of resignation.
He stood, I wasn’t real sure what was coming next. “Now, when Vanessa has this bub, how are you going to support them? I know you’ve got your eye on a conference gig or two but what will they pay?” He wasn’t mad at all, just inquiring. I was really starting to look at him as the Dad I never had, mine had left when I was barely 7 and although Mum had worked hard to raise me we just didn’t really connect and had drifted out of touch. “Not really enough.” I conceded. “Early on when we had met you said you did some work with PWC correct?” “That’s right.” “Good, if you want it there’s a job at Begbies with your name on it.” He pat me on the back and took a puff of his cigar, held the smoke in his mouth and, with a smile, exhaled. It was a very good night.
After the celebrations began to die down a little I took my leave with Vanessa and we headed over to her parent’s place. As I knocked Gail answered, “You two again, we didn’t think we’d be seeing you again today after the game.” “Yeah I know, actually we’re here to see Dave quickly if he’s around.” I replied. “No problems, I’ll just go get him,” she said and turned to walk up the stairs. Moments later Dave came down the steps, “my two favorite people,” He said gregariously, arms wide open for another hug. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked. “Um, well Ness and I have had a chat about your offer,” I half stammered out, “I’ve got to do what is right by the family. I want the job.” I said, straightening up. “Welcome aboard,” He said, extending his hand.
That was 5 years ago…
I looked around… I couldn’t believe it…. My Tooting & Mitcham United side had just won the second division of the Isthmian League. There were fans running about like crazy! It had been a hard slog to get here, I stood there and looked back to my playing career, a journeyman lower leaguer, the highest level I had played at was League 2. I had eeked out a living though. I cast my mind back to 7 years previously when, aged 28, I got the offer to do some coaching badges whilst still playing. Then, following that, I got the opportunity to join the youth coaching ranks at Chelsea – it was a no brainer. I was proving to be a far better coach than I ever was player.
View attachment 242186
To start with I worked with the under 11’s, prior to that they don’t get a lot of work with tactics, it was my job to begin introducing them to the X’s and O’s. I continued to do so and continued to work my way up the Chelsea coaching tree. Over the space of the next five years I worked with older and older children and before long I was working full time with the under 19’s. There were times I was even given the responsibilities of taking the U19 side during matches and occasionally I got to work with the first team, usually in the film room breaking down tactics.
Coming forward in time this past season I had sensed that in order to take that next step I needed to move out into management. I had good coaching skills to be sure. Chelsea had even paid for me to undertake two continental qualifications so that I now held the 2nd highest possible coaching certificate. Still there weren’t many sides that were willing to take the punt on me. I had some Conference sides tell me that if I could prove I could lead a team they would consider me so I had searched high and low to find this opportunity.
So here I was, at a stadium that seats about 600 people, celebrating what should be my ticket to the next level. Except, I know it’s not. At 35 my managerial career is over. Not for any bad reasons mind you! There, there she is… Vanessa, I had met her at the beginning of the preseason travelling on the train into London. Tooting & Mitcham are based in Morden, Surrey however I lived closer to Wimbeldon and although my living arrangements were most definitely on the modest side this was considered a reasonably affluent area. We had met and got to chatting. I told her about my managerial aspirations and my current role with Tooting and Mitcham and she told me about how she was working as a receptionist at Begbies Trayner, a professional services company.
That began a whirlwind romance. With both of us being the wrong side of 30, me 35 and her 33, we had no interest in wasting time. It wasn’t long before we had moved in together and 6 months after we met we were engaged. I don’t really have any family that I keep in any real kind of touch with but her family were very welcoming. Well, I should say that eventually they were, it turns out her Dad David was a Partner at the Begbies Traynor Paddington office and initially he wasn’t real keen on his daughter becoming a football widow. Once I started explaining that I had actually been a very good student and finished my schooling with 5 A levels and then had gone on to study at University part time externally whilst I was playing, eventually graduating with a Bachelor of Accounting from the University of Kent, well, then we were all good. I think it was the part where I told him that I had actually worked in the PricewaterhouseCoopers Embankment office for a year to supplement my income when I was rehabbing a knee reconstruction early in my career that really sealed his approval though.
I raced over to her and her family. Dave took my hand and shook it vigorously, “well done mate” he said. I gave her mum Gail a quick kiss on the cheek before taking Vanessa in my arms and lifting her around me. “Careful,” she said, “You don’t want to hurt the baby!!” I knelt down and kissed her stomach. She was 12 weeks pregnant. We had only told her family earlier in the week when we had popped over to their beautiful house for dinner. The first thing her Dad did after congratulating me was to take me down into their cellar, he handed me a Cuban cigar and a cutter. “I’ve had these waiting for years for this moment!” He said, he really was larger than life. “Now, tell me, how much do you earn?” I was a little shocked, “what do you mean?” I inquired. “You, you and Vanessa are living in a one bedroom flat still?” He pressed. “Yes, that’s correct.” I admitted. “Now I know exactly what Vanessa earns, what do you earn?” He wasn’t letting up. “250 quid a week.” I said with an air of resignation.
He stood, I wasn’t real sure what was coming next. “Now, when Vanessa has this bub, how are you going to support them? I know you’ve got your eye on a conference gig or two but what will they pay?” He wasn’t mad at all, just inquiring. I was really starting to look at him as the Dad I never had, mine had left when I was barely 7 and although Mum had worked hard to raise me we just didn’t really connect and had drifted out of touch. “Not really enough.” I conceded. “Early on when we had met you said you did some work with PWC correct?” “That’s right.” “Good, if you want it there’s a job at Begbies with your name on it.” He pat me on the back and took a puff of his cigar, held the smoke in his mouth and, with a smile, exhaled. It was a very good night.
After the celebrations began to die down a little I took my leave with Vanessa and we headed over to her parent’s place. As I knocked Gail answered, “You two again, we didn’t think we’d be seeing you again today after the game.” “Yeah I know, actually we’re here to see Dave quickly if he’s around.” I replied. “No problems, I’ll just go get him,” she said and turned to walk up the stairs. Moments later Dave came down the steps, “my two favorite people,” He said gregariously, arms wide open for another hug. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked. “Um, well Ness and I have had a chat about your offer,” I half stammered out, “I’ve got to do what is right by the family. I want the job.” I said, straightening up. “Welcome aboard,” He said, extending his hand.
That was 5 years ago…
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