Reaching Stella Heights : Brewed In Belgium

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parkin said:
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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I've seen the film but never read the book - I don't read much at all if im honest! I'll try and check it out.

Thanks for all the support guys, will update this afternoon / evening.
 
fuelledbypassion said:
I've seen the film but never read the book - I don't read much at all if im honest! I'll try and check it out.

Thanks for all the support guys, will update this afternoon / evening.
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Quite amazing really, considering how well you write.
 
REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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VI - The New Era


Fox thoroughly enjoyed his job as a postman, working limited hours for decent pay, but he knew in his heart of hearts that this was not an occupation that would see him through to retirement. He'd always felt that he was destined for greater things. The proposal that the Bleid chairman had presented him could be that chance, and anyhow, he'd offered a one year deal. At Royal Mail, Fox could take up to a year out and still return to work. It really was a simple decision with limited risk. The twenty four year old, the same age as FC Bleid coincidently, would be heading to Belgium. He had been saving for a deposit on a new home, but would use this money for living abroad, should he need it. It was worth a go, he thought.

Renato, meanwhile, was enjoying time out with his family, visiting theme parks and taking in various footballing friendlies. He loved this rare moment with his nephews, but had his club constantly in mind. He could barely hide his excitement, anxious to return to work with his new man, should he accept, of course. The chairman was confident that he would. His mobile rang suddenly. It was an awful Ke$ha ringtone, his music taste clearly questionable, and Renato answered hurriedly. He was expecting a response from Daniel Fox, but it was, in fact, his great friend Raphael Viance.

'Morning Renato. I have some urgent news,' he exclaimed.

'What's wrong?' his chairman probed. It was unlike Viance to call while the chairman was on holiday.

'Oh, it's nothing really. I have been approached by an Argentinian player who has been out of the game for a number of years. I was considering offering him a deal, but I know it's not really my place. He seems decent,' the assistant replied. 'He claims to have other interested parties,' he continued.

'Could you try offering a trial? The squad returns to training this week, so it would be better to see him in that environment. It's not that I don't trust your judgement Raphael, not at all, but I think our new manager should make such decisions. I'm still waiting for his call though,' his voice softening nervously as he swallowed emphatically.

'Of course, great idea,' Raphael agreed. 'I've a few more I'm looking at too. If they're good enough, I'll try and get them in for trials. I'll let you get on, my friend. Good luck.'

The phoneline died instantly, as if the assistant manager was upset with his chairman. Before he had time to ruminate though, Renato received a message with yet another dire ringtone. Fox had accepted, and the new era had begun. He was certainly relieved...

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Would love it if this Argentine was Claudio Cannigia or someone lol
 
Would love it if this Argentine was Claudio Cannigia or someone lol
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I wish I could attract someone of that profile!

This is immense! Im following!! :D
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Cheers mate, thanks for following. I've written up to number X (or 10!) already and I think it will start to get more interesting

---------- Post added at 05:33 PM ---------- Previous post was at 01:27 PM ----------

REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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VII - Renato's Return

The plane finally touched down, back on Belgian soil. But Renato was alone. Complications with his new manager's agreement with Royal mail had led to a further two week delay, and the FC Bleid staff would have to continue without their leader at the helm. The chairman grabbed his bag and passed through the minimal safety procedures, catching wind of the unmistakable aroma emanating from the airport bakeries; it was good to be home.

Fox was eager to join up with his new club and meet his new staff, but would instead be forced to work his notice period in England. He would make a start at bridging the language gap. Renato had warned of the communication difficulties that he may face, as the majority spoke French or Dutch. He had a basic grasp of German, which might help with a handful of playing staff, but only his chairman spoke English. Bleid could barely afford an interpreter, and Fox certainly couldn't, so it was essential that he made an effort to learn French. Fortunately, he was an able student. Before long, he would be engaged in fluent discussion with his colleagues, and eventually, fluent argument.

Raphael Viance, meanwhile, was busily organising the club's training sessions. He had a number of trialists to monitor, including Argentinian Alejandro Guzman, Israeli Sam Lavan and Brazilian Rafael Bruno Lopes. The assistant had already arranged various friendlies, under his chairman's instruction, in which those players would have the opportunity to earn a contract with FC Bleid. New manager, Daniel Fox, would arrive a week before the first; a behind closed doors match up against the club's under nineteen talent. Viance was eagerly anticipating the game, and in particular, seeing Guzman in action. The volatile central midfielder had been showing signs of his ability during training, principally his technical and physical attributes. He could be the key creative force this season, but there was a clear language barrier to be overcome. Only time would tell if he would be a suitable aquisition...

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Renato Constantini arrived at Stade de N'Doumbe to an untidy heap of documents. His desk was awash with financial papers and banking statements as the club's economics worsened. Sat proudly atop the pile though, was an invitation to speak with the press reguarding the management situation at FC Bleid. A conference was due to take place this afternoon with a number of local and even national journalists present, but he was relatively unprepared. The chairman would be entering a lion's den of sorts, with the vultures encircling him and judging his every action. It would be a demanding ordeal, but a necessary one. At least his pal, Raphael, would be at his side to shoulder the burden.

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I couldn't look forward to the start of the season any more if it was my own club in real life!
 
REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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VIII - The Provocative Stranger


The atmosphere was stifling as the media masses crowded into the awkward space, overflowing into the hallway. The press room was small, but usually spacious enough for the job. Not today, however, as the bloodthirsty horde loitered awaiting their prey. They were beginning to become restless before an agitated figure took to the podium, with his friend Raphael following closely in tandem. Sweat poured from his brow as the humidity intensified, while the gathering crowd tension eased. A deathly silence suddenly replaced the deafening drone as Renato stole the mob's devilish gaze. He swallowed profusely as the bright lights bounced off his shimmering forehead, prior to clearing his throat and moving to speak; he was shaking like a leaf.

'Welcome to FC Bleid,' stepped in his confident assistant, Raphael. He had become accustomed to public speaking during his playing days with Standard Liege. 'I'd like to introduce our beloved chairman, Mr. Renato Constantini,' he continued, gesturing towards his uncomfortable accomplice.

The chairman stepped forward unconvincingly, lowering his head towards the unelevated mic and resting both hands on the sturdy platform, steadying himself and bracing his uncontrollable frame. Stuttering his first few words of welcome, he nervously progressed to announce the departure of former manager, Fabien Matagne.

'Sadly, FC Bleid have parted company with manager Fabien Matagne by mutual consent. We would like to wish Fabien luck in all his future endeavours,' Renato pronounced, reading carefully from the prompt that he had hurriedly put together just minutes before the conference. 'We are currently in the process of appointing a replacement manager. I can promise the fans that we will do our upmost to find the right man, and that he will be introduced in no more than a fortnight's time,' he concluded.

A wave of commotion flowed through the room, eventually subsiding close to the front at Renato's feet, and the rumble of disapproving cries was halted once more. Every single journalist raised a hand skywards. They would each submit one question only. This is the part that Renato feared most.

'Why have you moved to sack the greatest manager in the club's history?' came the first, from the chief of the FC Bleid supporters association - he was voicing the opinion of all 23 members and everyone else in the room.

'I'm afraid that financial constraints have turned my hand. His wage demands were too high for a club of our size, and it would be dangerous to extend our wage budget further,' Renato imlored.

'It proved impossible to keep him with other clubs turning his head anyhow,' added his calm assistant.

'So who is to blame for the club's poor economic state? You have been heavily criticised in the past for your overextravagant personal spending. The fans will surely never forgive you,' proclaimed a forthright journalist.

The chairman froze in horror as his eyes rolled towards the heavens, the glaring bulbs on the ceiling momentarily occluding his vision. The pause was embarrasing, and ever increasing in length.

'The club has a specified budget,' interupted Raphael angrily. 'Renato's personal life has nothing to do with it!' he snapped.

'My past shortcomings bear no influence on the future of this club,' the chairman assured having regained his composure. 'I have made mistakes, yes, but I have made this decision for the good of FC Bleid.'

A voice permeated the crowd from the back of the room, 'And what of rumours that your assistant manager's re-...'

'What is he doing here?' the shocked chairman exclaimed, turning expectantly towards his friend. Sure enough, his worst fears were realised, as Raphael's eyes widened and he made his move. Viance flew over the desk towards the man, as Renato desperately grabbed at his jacket without luck. He scrambled into the group of journalists, pushing multiples aside before two brave souls restrained the furious assistant. The press conference ended in a blur as the frenzied Bleid coach was wrestled to the ground and dragged away by his good friend and boss. The media would be all over this, and Renato shuddered at the prospective headlines; this wasn't the start to a celebratory season that the chairman had planned.

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REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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IX - The Infidelity


Renato threw down the paper in disbelief; the tabloids had really gone to town on this story. Over a week had passed and Bleid were still sprawled across the back pages of every national newspaper. Reports of a rift between assistant and chairman, and divisions within the club were utter nonsense. The event actually strengthened the pair's resolve despite damning pictorial evidence and hefty fines. Raphael was due to return today after a prolongued absence - a holiday rather than disciplinary action. Many had called for his dismissal, and even his head, but few knew the full extent of the tale. On top of all the negative publicity, the assistant had also managed to generate a sizeable lawsuit, breaking the collarbone of a journalist who was unfortunately situated in his warpath. The cash-strapped strugglers could be in dire straits because of the assistant's ill temper, as the financial turmoil worsened.

The club's chairman was, however, deeply sympathetic towards his troubled friend. Raphael's fall from grace began two years ago, when he lost many an asset to his manipulative ex bride. Having played four seasons with Standard Liege, he'd amassed reasonable wealth before joining Bleid's local rivals Virton. His wife, a childhood sweetheart, drained him with divorce settlements, citing adultry as the primary reason for the split. The heartbroken man showed little resistance as his former flame took everything, despite the false allegations. It was, in fact, his wife that undertook to extramarital affairs behind his back. The sickening news that it was with his good friend, local press authority Cyriel Francois, absolutely crushed Raphael. But for the interference of his old pal, Renato Constantini, he may have indeed succumbed to the torments of alcohol and depression. The dispicable Francois, it appears, had since taken up a journalism role for local paper, The Virton Football Post, and would attend almost every club press conference in the future. Renato was understadably apprehensive of the idea, but in truth, there was little that he could do to prevent it. The coward lurked in the shadows, heckling from a distance on that fateful day, but on future occasions he'd have nowhere to hide. Raphael Viance was in vengeful mood, and that could only have damaging consequences for FC Bleid.

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Still checking with interest,

Loving how everyone has there own persona and we are delving into each characters life, rather than just the one.

Excellent.
 
Absolutely loving the plot twists. A great use of back stories is what sets this apart from so many other threads on the site.
 
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REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

***** ***** *****​

X - Raphael To The Rescue


The harsh floor was cold and uncomfortably hard. Daniel Fox awoke abruptly from his awkward sleep, his back aching profusely. Bodies littered the aisles and sprawled the limited seating as the airport remained at a standstill. The staff had been on strike for two days, and it seemed likely to continue. The manager was due to fly out to Belgium yesterday to embark on his new footballing journey, but a cancelled flight had curtailed such plans. FC Bleid were holding an introductory press conference this afternoon, and barring minor miracle, he would surely miss it.

The media gathered excitedly outside, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the new boss. Photographers stood at the gates awaiting the first glimpse of the unknown manager, while journalists surrounded the stadium's small entrance. They were hours premature. Raphael Viance pulled into the carpark slowly, camera bulbs flashing erratically as he vigorously scanned the scene, searching for his nemesis. But Cyriel Francois was nowhere to be seen. He vacated his car, an old, rusting Ford Orion, and pushed through the encircling crowd to enter the building. It was unlike anything he had ever seen at Bleid, stirring memories of his playing career in the top flight. As he progressed down the hallway, he was met by his distracted chairman, who was striding timorously back and forth. Renato was in a state of panic, having received confirmation that Fox would not be appearing. He had to face the merciless press hounds without a manager, after promising that one would be in place. His pacing continued down the narrow corridor as Raphael stood, puzzled and awaiting explanation. Renato passed his assistant again, as if he were an invisible spirit or a perfectly camouflaged predator, before Raphael intervened.

'What's going on, Renato? Are you okay?'

'I don't know what to do! Daniel's not coming and their going to vilify me!' the chairman shrieked.

'Calm down, don't worry,' he appeased. 'I'll handle the meeting, you just get that boy into Belgium. We've got a friendly in two days and he needs to be here.'

Raphael headed straight to the door in confident fashion, boldly grasping the handle and turning it precisely. The wild reporters mobbed the coach as he forced his way out towards his aging vehicle, mounting the bonnet and standing tall. He cupped his giant hands around his drying mouth and shouted theatrically.

'The meeting has been cancelled. I can announce that FC Bleid have appointed a new, unknown English manager, but he is unavailable for comment. He will commit to a press conference date in the near future, possibly before the opening game of the season. We apologise sincerly and hope you will all be able to attend. Thank you for your time.'

The unruly rabble dispersed, voicing their displeasure as they left. Raphael picked up on mutterings of 'incompetent chairman' and 'amateur club', but he resisted his instinctual temptations of retaliation and rushed inside. His blood pressure gradually lowered as he prepared to take the afternoon training session, but the players would most likely feel the brunt of his anguish.

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REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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XI - The Wrong Turn​


The airport was deserted as Fox arrived, save for the very small security presence. The long running strike action was set to continue, but he had avoided the queues, travelling in style by private jet. It seems that Renato had informed his older brother of the day's happenings, and the sympathetic Roberto had moved quickly to solve Fox's dilemma. The chairman was unaware of the generous offering, and would stay that way; Roberto ever mindful of his hatred of the 'mafia money'. The check in was swift and painless, but there was no need for the new Bleid manager to make haste. He had already missed his press introduction, earlier that day. With the strikes ongoing, the taxi bay outside the airport was empty, so the bewildered coach was compelled to continue on foot. Reluctantly, he dragged his cumbersome case towards the isolated phone cubicle, hoping to contact a local taxi service. The booth was bestrewn with numbers and completely vandalised, and Fox could barely decipher the disfigured digits. The language barrier became an instant concern as he searched carefully for a cab firm, to no avail. ​

He reluctantly called his chairman. Within minutes, a beaming, golden taxi sped into the car park, tyres screeching on the damp surface as it came to an abrupt standstill. The driver, an overweight but energetic, ageing man, stumbled out of the car and bundled the manager's heavy bags onto the back seat before ushering him into the vehicle. Fox grasped the door handle fearfully as they set off erratically, barely closing the door behind him. It was an uneasy journey, fraught with danger and suspense. The wily old chauffeur forged a path through back roads and raced down alleyways, weaving between traffic and taking ingenious shortcuts. The adventure had already come to an end, no sooner than it had begun, and the Bleid manager seemed mightily relieved. He stepped out, taking in the remarkable sight of the stadium on game night, the bustling crowds and the buzz of excitment surrounding the ground. He glanced up towards the fixture display as the taxi hurried away behind him. Virton vs FCV Dender? He scanned the area again apprehensively. 'bienvenue à Stade Yvan Georges, maison de Royal Excelsior Virton' read another daunting sign. Virton were Bleid's local rivals. Unbelievably, he was at the wrong venue...​

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---------- Post added at 07:16 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 04:47 PM ----------

Pompey_Dan said:
Absolutely loving the plot twists. A great use of back stories is what sets this apart from so many other threads on the site.
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Thanks Dan, I appreciate that Kris, Shots and yourself are still following. I will get to the matches soon though, I promise. Should be chapter XIV :)
 
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REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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XII - The Opportune Scout


The Bleid manager looked in dismay as his taxi twisted along the winding roads in the distance. The Virton stadium was just over four kilometres away from the village of Bleid, but as Fox contemplated the walk, he was drawn into the buzzing atmosphere surrounding him. Before long, he unwittingly found himself standing in the long, snaking line, queuing for a ticket to the game. He convinced himself that it could be seen as a scouting exercise, although in reality, his school boy excitement had simply overcome his dwindling composure. Maybe though, it could give his side an advantage over their fiercest rivals?

The invigorated manager took his seat in the packed ground, anticipating a fantastic game to match the sensational ambience developing around him. The night air was smothered with over four thousand voices, as the eager fans cheered the players' emergence from the tunnel. The support was phenominal, especially given that this was only a friendly. A quick glance at the programme, and Fox settled into his first act as a football manager.

'This isn't so laborious,' he mused.

The contest kicked off at a good, early pace. Virton were, somewhat surprisingly, matching their Second Division opponents, eager to impress in their opening pre-season fixture. As the first half developed, the hosts created some superb opportunities, but a combination of excellent goalkeeping and poor finishing prevented them from taking a deserved lead. The away side were dangerous on the counter, with striker Charles Banga smashing a glorious chance against the crossbar, but Virton seemed reasonably comfortable throughout. The half time whistle sounded to an exuberant applause as the spirited home team headed inside. It was a truly enthralling encounter, despite the lack of goals.

A number of performers caught the eye of the Bleid manager, but he was intrigued by one in particular, who was replaced for the second half. After further examination of the match programme, the player was nameless, perhaps indicating that he was a trialist. He'd been playing on the right side of midfield, his natural position, but it was clear that his age had restricted his impact on the game. He no longer had the pace to play as the explosive, youthful winger from years passed, but Fox had warmed to some of his other qualities. Competent defensively and technically adept, he would make a perfect central midfielder, whilst his leadership skills and experience could prove useful with a difficult season ahead. As the teams appeared for the spectacle to commence, the Bleid manager noticed that the unknown player hadn't taken his place on the bench. Fox stood, apologetically sidestepping towards the centre aisle and heading out of the arena, praying that his chance hadn't passed.

He bustled towards the outer gates, barging ingloriously passed shocked supporters and stumbling through the turnstile. He looked left...nothing. Scoured to his right...no one. Then, just as Fox had abandoned all hope, there he was on the horizon, sauntering towards his awaiting ride. The manager sprinted, arms waving violently to flag the man down and attract his attention, whilst shouting urgently.

'Stop! Wait!' he paused for air, 'Please stop!'

The confused player turned inquisitively, his face scrunching as his brow lowered to meet his watchful eye. Fox buckled over his own frame as he approached the man, desperately gasping for breath with his hands firmly gripping his shaking knees. Struggling to put word to his thoughts, and exhaling deeply, he stuttered as his lungs persevered.

'Hh...hh...hello...We need...to talk,' he endeavored.

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REACHING STELLA HEIGHTS : BREWED IN BELGIUM​

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XIII - The Morning After The Night Before


'Congratulations, and welcome to FC Bleid,' embraced the exuberant chairman, extending his hand towards the club's new Columbian signing. The veteran, Francisco Diaz duly complied.

Belgium born Diaz was a real coup for Renato and his manager. During a journeyman career throughout europe, he had played for many clubs, culminating in a two year stint at former Pro League side Aalst. He was fluent in French, Dutch and Spanish, but crucially, also had a reasonable grasp of English. With Fox unable to speak the local language, Diaz would act as a useful interpreter, at least for the time being. His professionalism and experience was clear for all to see, and he'd impressed the chairman enough to earn an amateur contract at Bleid. Fox was keen to see the thirty two year old in action, while Renato would also observe training to check up on his recent aquisition. The manager was anxious that Diaz should make a suitable first impression as the trio headed down to the changing rooms at Stade Jaques N'Doumbe. There would be a light training session this morning, ahead of the first friendly of the season, against the club's under nineteen talent.

The damp grass glistened under the early morning sun as the players and coaching staff strolled onto the pitch. The surface was in pristine condition, owing to the hard work of Bleid's groundsman, Martijn Wouters. He was a much loved character with an innocent naivety, yet a short fuse. The more established players would often test his resolve, playing foolish pranks and inciting a fiery reaction from the stadium handyman. It was all in good humour though, and Wouters always went along with their childish antics. He was a valued mamber of the FC Bleid family. Raphael Viance would take control of training today, as Daniel Fox and Renato Constantini took position high in the stands, overlooking the session. With the aid of his chairman, Fox had instucted his assistant manager to take it easy on the players, with light ball work and tactical development on the agenda. There was no need for any fitness training today.

It was the manager's first viewing of the squad that he had inheritted, and he seemed reasonably satisfied with the abilities on show. A number of the flair players caught his eye, among which was star attacking midfielder Gaetano Lamonaca. The Italian had recently joined from rivals, Virton, and would be a key player this season. Equally adept on both feet and with an eye for goal, he could play anywhere across the pitch, even as a deep lying striker. His versatility would surely come into fruition this term, and depite favouring a central role, Lamonaca would play on the right side this afternoon. Bleid were also blessed with talented fullbacks, Mathieu Godart on the right and Mamadou Coulibaly on the left. Ivorian, Coulibaly, had amassed an impressive thirty six international caps and was on the radar of a number of Belgian clubs, having helped Bleid to promotion last year. Added to the pair, was another gifted defender in the form of Frenchman, Sebastian Do Rosario. He was a natural centre back, but due to his technical prowess, was also more than capable of stepping into a midfield position. Reunion striker, Franckie Quere, had recently been called up to represent his country, and his strength and aerial ability would be a useful option should Fox opt to play with a lone target man.

Amongst the acomplished members at the club, new signing Francisco Diaz and trialist Alejandro Guzman seemed right at home. Of the other seven trialists on show, two would be involved in today's friendly. Rwandan striker, Karim Abdul Kamanzi, and Brazilian midfielder, Rafael, had shown brief glimpses of their ability in the short training session, and both would take a place on the bench. As the morning neared it's end, Viance called time on the activities and the players filtered through the tunnel. There was a buzz of excitement throughout the club, as the long awaited first game drew closer, and Fox made his way down to the home changing failities to introduce himself. There would be a number of disappointed faces when he reads out this afternoons teamsheet, but everone would get a chance to impress in future matches. As he slowly pushed the door ajar, the wooden frame creaking around it, the muffled voices turned to silence. Followed closely by his new chairman, Fox hesitantly stepped into the room as beads of sweat trickled down his blushing face. The nervous manager raised his shaking fist towards his mouth, clearing his throat and preparing to speak...

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