Reaching Stella Heights : Brewed In Belgium

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fuelledbypassion

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REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM

***** ***** *****

I - The Quiet After The Storm


'The situation is no longer within my power, Fabien. If the club is to avoid administration, or even collapse, then contracts will have to be terminated. I'm just saddened that it is yours that must end. You have performed exceptionally, but as chairman I must do what is right for my club. I'm sorry.'


The victimised scapegoat stormed out of the office, slurring french blasphemies as he slammed the door shut, the sound reverberating throughout the corridor and claiming the attention of every soul within the building. Every one feared redundancy. Fabien Matagne would be relinquishing his role as manager of Belgian Third Division side FC Bleid, despite guiding them to promotion last season; an achievement never before seen in their history. If he was 'dispensable', then surely they all were? As Matagne rattled through the hall, he passed colleague, Raphael Viance, who had earlier been made aware of today's affair. He was already drawing up a list of potential managerial prospects, and preceded to lower his balding head as his former boss approached, in an attempt to ignore his presence. The two had never seen eye to eye with one and other, but on this occasion, they literally wouldn't. Neither said a word as Matagne took his leave. Silence then followed as staff awaited the next call, and each one sat anxiously with bated breath...they heard nothing, like the eeire lull after a storm. Not all, however, were of a nervous disposition. There was one solitary figure that seemed unperturbed by the days events. He was a strong, leader of men; a much revered coach and a former Standard Liege player; Assitant manager Viance. The stocky framed deputy was held in high reguard by all at Bleid, but particularly by the club's chairman. The pair could often be seen indulging in local brewaries, such was their friendship, and it was widely assumed that Viance was, ultimately, the mastermind behind the club's recent success.


The chairman, Belgian born Renato Constantini, was both generous and kind. He was a family man first and foremost, (owing to his Italian roots) and a business man second. He would not make unnecessary cutbacks. Assistant, Raphael Viance, would keep his position along with the majority of coaching staff. Bleid could survive with the remaining wage bill, but Constantini would be forced to find a manager willing to accept only bonuses as payment; an almost desperate act. Who would accept such a miserly deal?

***** ***** *****
 
Bleid are an amature club, I've done a save with them and I have to say it was one of th hardest saves I have ever done. good luck :)
 
Bleid are an amature club, I've done a save with them and I have to say it was one of th hardest saves I have ever done. good luck :)

I have had success with Stalybridge Celtic and Paredes (portugal) so im hoping to do alright. I think it'll make a great story. Im already 12 games in...
 
REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM

***** ***** *****

II - The Italian Stallion


'Another rejection, Raphael,' sighed the deflated chairman. 'How many have we got left to approach?' he questioned looking skyward for answers. 'Are you sure you couldn't make the step up?'

'I wouldn't want to jeopardize our friendship Renato. We still have a few more to look at before we have to explore the lower leagues,' Viance enthused in reply. 'You should visit your family as planned. I can take care of business here.'

'You are a good friend, Raphael, but you need a break as well,' Renato Constantini intimated with his hands extended openly. 'I shall visit my brother in England, just for the weekend. On my return, your bags should be packed. You need a holiday.'

After a warm embrace, the chairman departed, leaving his trusted comrade to ponder their next move. He had exhausted their limited contacts and would have to delve into the lower leagues in search of a willing managerial apprentice. It would not be a restful weekend for the assistant. His chairman, on the other hand, would travel to London this eve, and spend his night journeying by road to see his family. His brother, Roberto, had emigrated Italy when he met an English exchange student some twenty years ago, and Renato rarely visited. This would be their first encounter in almost five years.

* * *

The plane journey came and went without commotion, and with much needed repose. The night air was surprisingly pleasant amid hazardous weather reports and Renato actually welcomed the slight, cool breeze as he departed the aircraft. The skies were clear and illuminated by the neon city landscape, with only a gentle murmur of machinery echoing up to the heavens as the capital came to rest. This was a truly magical place, the home of football. After filtering through the security terminal and gathering his only suitcase, the chairman left the departure lounge and headed for the car park, searching curiously for his hired transport.

'Your car, sir,' directed a smartly suited driver with a stereotypically formal, English accent.

He was pointing towards a rather luxurious Ferrari coupe, with eye-catching curves and a snarling grill. It was clearly an expensive model, and there was no way that Renato, or the club, could afford to travel in such style.

'I don't think so,' he retorted unceremoniously. Then, realising the impolite nature of his reply and backtracking somewhat, he continued graciously, 'I believe you must be mistaken my friend, I could never...'

'It has already been payed for sir,' interupted the driver, 'by a Mr. Roberto Constantini. I am your chauffeur. May I take your bags?'

Reluctantly, Renato accepted and was escorted towards the highly polished gift, glimmering brightly under the array of stars like a diamond in the rough. It was effectively his father's money, money that was irresponsibly earned. Renato had long walked away from it, a decision that had abruptly ended any relationship with his parents. They were now a disjointed family, as Renato refused to enter the Mafia as his ancestors had done before him. This led to his exile from Italy, although Renato had no regrets. He had lived well to this point, and combined his love of football with a means of living. The life of a chairman was sometimes a stressful one, but one that he wouldn't change for the world. He was soon indulging in the lavish passenger seat, and, feeling guilty but relaxed, slipped into a deep sleep. He would awake in the outskirts of the East Anglian town, Boston, to a heartwarming reception.

***** ***** *****
 
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Fantastic start, glad to see you back on the scene.

This was a truly magical place, the home of football.

Such a Sky Sports quote.
 
This was a truly magical place, the home of football.
Such a Sky Sports quote.
I know, I just couldn't resist. Thanks for the support mate

---------- Post added at 01:38 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 09:28 PM ----------

REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM

***** ***** *****

III - La Riunione impressionabile


'Rennie, my dear brother. It is great to see you again!' Roberto heartily bellowed, arms spread wide. 'It's been too long!'

The customary Italian greet then followed, with enthusiastic air-kissing on both cheeks and intimate back stroking, as Roberto's hulking arms enveloped his younger, much smaller brother. Renato had always looked up to Roberto, despite his Mafia connections. After what would have been an uncomfortably long hug for most, the older Constantini released his tight clasp and called out to his son.

'Marco, your Uncle is here!'

The youngster emerged from the expansive gardens with great haste, barrelling into Renato and grabbing at his waist. Marco was barely recognisable, having doubled in both age and size since they're last reunion. His older brother, nineteen year old Paolo then appeared from the courtyard clutching a sizeable holdall. He sauntered over, containing his excitement and maintaining his cool aura as only a teenager could. He wore a training jacket embroidered with his initials, and that of his team, Magnet Tavern FC.

'Uncle Renato! Have you come to watch me play? I can't believe you came all this way!'

The pair grappled playfully as Renato laughed and wriggled free, finally able to control his emotions and word them coherently.

'It's so great to be here. I've missed you all so much!' he cried as his eyes began to well. He was proud and slightly envious of his brother's perfect family, their perfect home and perfect life. It had come at a price for Roberto though, as he rarely saw any of his Italian kin.

'I apologise but we must leave, Renato. Paolo has a cup final today. Would you like to come and watch? He has become quite a talented player now,' Roberto approved. 'We cannot be late!'

Although physically and emotionally exhausted, he agreed instantly. After all, he loved nothing more than his family and the game. The four clambered into Roberto's sumptuous, four wheel drive cruiser and immediately set off. It was a short distance into Boston, but the various traffic controls and roadworks prolonged the journey, during which, Paolo had told of his footballing triumphs. By all accounts, Magnet Tavern FC were by far the best sunday league team in the area, having won both the top division title and one cup already. It was unsurprising considering that they were the only team to pay their players - a feat that FC Bleid couldn't even match. They would be playing a team that had narrowly escaped relegation this term, Punchbowl FC, and were clear favourites. The Punchbowl team had struggled to find eleven players each week, but that was unlikely to be an issue today; the game would be played at former football league side Boston United's York Street stadium.

***** ***** *****
 
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Another fine update, very detailed and in depth.
 
This is quickly becoming my favourite story on the site, very detailed and fantastic writing style. I am finding it gripping and look forward to more updates soon.

Great work buddy.
 
Another fine update, very detailed and in depth.

Cheers kris, glad to have you following

This is quickly becoming my favourite story on the site, very detailed and fantastic writing style. I am finding it gripping and look forward to more updates soon.

Great work buddy.

wow, some compliment! I'd actually say the same about your story mate
 
You've got a good writing style, I really enjoy reading it. I followed your Paredes story and I'll follow this - I'm already hooked!
 
You've got a good writing style, I really enjoy reading it. I followed your Paredes story and I'll follow this - I'm already hooked!

Cheers buddy, good to see you back following. The Paredes story got a little lost and I had to go without internet for a month so I kind of lost interest - I got them into the liga sagres in 3 seasons and then got the job at Sporting Lisbon - would have made a nice story really but nevermind. I'm confident that this one will be longer and more football orientated

Thanks for the kind comments :)

---------- Post added at 02:53 PM ---------- Previous post was at 12:41 PM ----------

REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM

***** ***** *****

IV - The Unlikely Lads


The players emerged from the tunnel to raptuous applause as Renato, his brother and nephew took their seats in the remarkable ground. It had a capacity over ten times that of FC Bleid's six hundred seater, Stade Jaques N'Doumbe, despite being one of the smaller venues in the country. The Bleid chairman admired the incredible views, whilst simultaneously pondering a lack of support for the sport in his own country. Despite being far from a sellout, there were more spectators at this sunday league cup final than he'd ever witnessed at his own stadium. Paolo was, as expected, in the starting lineup and was followed out onto the pitch by former Premier League star Julian Joachim. The former Aston Villa, Coventry City and Leeds United striker would occasionally turn out for the Tavern, and would start this final for the favourites. The Punchbowl FC players looked decidedly nervous, and slightly worse for wear. They had a reputation as the biggest drinkers in the league, and many had turned up nursing heavy hangovers. It seemed like the match would be a formality for the local, well financed outfit.

The game started with Magnet Tavern immediately on the front foot. The Punchbowl team couldn't cope with the early pace and struggled to come to terms with the lightning speed of Joachim, despite his tender age of thirty five. A few battled bravely but they were a poor side, with only a few standout players. One of which was central defender, player/manager Daniel Fox. He made two crucial first half tackles to deny Joachim the opening goal, with exceptional sliding challenges. The lanky, clumsy looking figure kept a poor defence organised for almost forty minutes, before Tavern finally broke the deadlock. Joachim's clever movement pulled the centre backs wide, and the ball was switched to the opposite flank with a delightful cross field ball. Left winger, Paolo Constantini was clear of a motionless right fullback and sprinted towards goal. He was scythed down from behind by the punchbowl man, just inside the penalty area, and a penalty was given, with the Punchbowl player subsiquently dismissed. Fox was furious with his fullback, having got himself back into position to execute a trademark last ditch tackle. Joachim stepped up to nonchalantly stroke the penalty into the bottom corner and give Tavern a one goal advantage heading into the break.

Generally, it was a decent half for the Punchbowl, despite the Tavern's superior possesion. Now though, down to ten men, the flood gates were expected to open and Tavern should add considerably to their tally. In a previous league encounter, ten men of the Punchbowl had conceded closer to a cricket score against their illustrious opponents. Interestingly, the Punchbowl manager had made tactical changes at half time, pushing both wingers upfield and withdrawing a central midfield player for a fullback. The second striker dropped deeper to form a 4-1-3-1 formation of sorts. It was certainly a bold move and an attempt to get back into the game.

Despite the Tavern's continued dominance, the pace of Punchbowl wingers Martyn Fox and Nicky Watson were a constant threat and provided a great outball for the underdogs. Colossal defending by Daniel Fox and fantastic combination play with brother Martyn produced unlikely results, and within ten minutes, they were level. Martyn played a cute one-two and drove to the byline, crossing perfectly for striker Gavin Phillips to head home. With renewed vigour, the Punchbowl pressed and Phillips cleverly drew a freekick with his back to goal. Martyn Fox stepped up to smash the ball over the wall and it whistled into the net from thirty yards. It was a fantastic strike worthy of winning any game. Now in the lead, the tactics soon changed as the Punchbowl reverted to a 4-4-1, defending deep and in numbers. Phillips lead the line bravely and held the ball up with aplomb, and the longshots secured an unlikely victory. It was a phenominal comeback and a massive upset.

***** ***** *****
 
Joachim? really? was that just a random name or is this accurate?
 
Joachim? really? was that just a random name or is this accurate?


accurate. He was raised around these parts but he doesn't play for them all that often. I think he still plays non-league football around here on saturdays too. I've not had the pleasure of playing against him though

---------- Post added at 09:09 PM ---------- Previous post was at 04:31 PM ----------

REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM

***** ***** *****

V - The Free Drink


Punchbowl FC captain, Gavin Phillips, led his triumphant team to collect their prize. The players queued eagerly whilst player/manager Fox held back in the shadows, he was an unassuming man. FC Bleid chairman, Renato Constantini, was already on the phone to assistant manager Raphael Viance. Maybe he had found his man.

'Good evening Raphael, how are things going?'

'Not so well, Renato. I've had another couple reject us. It seems that even the non-league managers think we will be joining them next season. We're favourites for relegation with the bookies,' sighed the dejected coach.

'Well I may have found our man. I've not spoken to him yet, but he's a young English lad that has talent. He seems to have good tactical knowledge at least,' Renato inspired.

'Great. Who does he manage then? Some non-league outfit? A Blue Square team, maybe?' inquired Viance.

'Not quite. It's a sunday league team...just trust me on this one. With your guidance, he will be a success!' Renato continued. 'I'll see what he has to say.'

The excited chairman bounded over towards the exhausted Punchbowl manager, grabbing his attention before he gathered his trophy. After a swift introduction and congratulatory remark, Renato got straight down to business. The two agreed to meet in the bar after the presentations, Fox easily influenced by the idea of a free drink.

As they sat down, thoughts began to flood Renato's mind. He was sure that this was his new manager, and was already planning travel and accomodation arrangements. After a little light discussion, he explained the situation at FC Bleid, but the Englishman seemed unimpressed. Renato did all he could to seal the deal, explaining that the club would finance any coaching examinations and training that would be necessary. He had secretly hoped that the Belgian Football Association would put Fox through his coaching on a national apprenticeship, as the club still maintained amateur status. The pair then discussed the club's bonus payment scheme; a scheme that all but two of the Bleid staff were contracted to. If he had a successful campaign, Fox would earn considerably more than he was currently paid, and it may be an avenue onto greater things. The chairman's persuasive ideals were beginning to shine through, and Fox was warming to the prospect of Belgium. This was the only chance he'd ever get at serious football management, but Fox was a pragmatist and would want to explore all avenues before making a decision. A contract was roughly drawn up, and Fox would sleep on it over the next few days, while Renato spent time with his family. But had the chairman done enough?

***** ***** *****
 
Another mighty fine update and a great introduction to the the new manager.
 
This is some story, not to sound like a snob (well, **** it, I do) there are very few remotely enjoyable or well written stories on this site and this could be the best I've seen by a distance. Keep it up mate.
If you need any inspiration or style tips or anything football wise in general to do with writing I'd recommend reading The Damned Utd. (there was a film made of it) by David Pearce, good build up for football related characters etc.
 
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