The Life and career of a Football manager

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If you keep this going its a strong contender for one of the best stories on the site, you writing is absolutely fantastic.
 
Chapter 6
29th August
Juventus vs Roma​

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father, Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers, Leave all your love and your longing behind, You cant carry it with you if you want to survive
The dog days are over, The dog days are done, Can you hear the horses? Because here they come​

The week had sped by; I was sat on the front of the bus, my iPod playing Florence and the machine as we pulled up to the Stadio Olimpico in Turin. I stepped off the bus and took a deep breathe, about to face one of the toughest teams in Europe and possibly one of the toughest games of the season. I went into the stadium and straight into our changing room. Before I knew the team were changed and warmed up, my final team talk, still translated, delivered and it was game time.

The ref blew his whistle to start the game and we were underway, despite the self doubts creeping in after last weeks game, I was confident after a good weeks training and team building that we were more than ready to take anyone on in the league. The only small problem that week, apart from my slightly damning attempts at speaking the native language, was that with 3 days remaining of the Summer transfer window, John Arne Riise had handed in a transfer request, sighting he wanted to move to a bigger club to fulfil his ambitions and reluctantly I had accepted, despite reassuring him that we as a club could progress to meet his ambitions.

We kicked off, and soon settled into a rhythm, but despite my confidence, which the team shared in the lead up to the game, Juventus struck an early blow. Vincenzo Iaquinta connecting perfectly with a Del Piero lay of, from 18 yards. 20 minutes in and we were 1-0 down!

But the goal had a good effect on our team and for the next 10 minutes Juventus couldn’t get the ball off us. Mexes, Motta, De Rossi all going close, then came our break through, Totti and Benjani exchanged passes on the edge of the box, Benjani burst through looking for the return, only to be completly side swiped by Melo. The ref awarded a penalty straight away, With the Juventus players surrounding the ref, he produced yellow cards for Melo and Buffon. Pizzaro step up confidently, put the ball on the spot and slotted home. 1-1 after 39 minutes.

But we weren’t doen there, as the fourth official raised the board to indicate 3 minutes of injury time, Totti took the ball off of Motta on the right wing, he cut and beat three players, and suddenly found himself one on one with Buffon, who rushed out toward him, b ut Totti calmly knocked the ball over him and into the net. 2-1! I jumped up from the dugout and ran to the edge of the technical area, Totti was running toward me and he before I knew, the 2 of us were embrassed in a hug on the half way line celebrating.

The second half, was slightly different to the first. Both teams only having 2 shots on target. Unfortunatly for us theirs, in the 60th minute flew past Doni in our goal and hit the back of the net. 2-2. And that’s how it finished. A two all draw away at Juventus on the second weekend of the season.

Once again I was happy as I left the ground, this time on board a bus as we travelled back to Rome. On the way, back I rang Alice, but for some reason she didn’t answer. Which was weird as she always had her phone on her. I got back to the apartment at around 11:30 that night, to find Alice a sleep on our sofa, her phone next to her but the missed calls from my phone had been checked off. I woke her and once again I saw that beautiful smile and those beautiful eyes. She woke up and instantly threw her arms around me and asked me how we’d got on, she apologised for not answering the phone, but she said she was had met Marco our Italian tutor for an extra lesson because she was struggling to come to terms with the language. I sat down and checked the results from the other games, AC had won 2-0 against Siena and Inter had won 1-0 away at Palermo. The table, despite only being 2 games old was on next and we were sitting in fourth, behind Udinese, Napoli and Catania, who had all won their opening two games. Seeing the table made those self doubts subside again, I really was confident that we could actually do it, we could win the league that year. The next big test was just three weeks away, when we visit Jose Mourinho and his Inter Milan side. Before that, we had Genoa and Reggina in the League and our opening game in the Europa League group stage.

I sat back in our plush leather sofa at around 12:30 a happy man. I glanced our at the bedroom door, just as Alice emerged through it, dressed in black lace underwear, she smiled at me and before I knew it she was leading me by the hand into our bedroom. The perfect way to end a near flawless day?

---------- Post added at 08:23 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 11:57 PM ----------

Chapter 7
October 30th 2005​

It was as if the god’s knew what that day was. I was woken up by heavy rain pounding the window. But these weren’t my windows, whilst I was allowed to finally leave the hospital after 3 operations on my knee in a week and half, I hadn’t gone home to the flat. For fear of being reminded too much of Hannah, I had opted to stay with my Mum and Brother on Bryantwood road, Islington. I struggled to the edge of the single bed in the spare room, and grabbed the crutches I had been given 2 days prior before being allowed to leave the hospital, I struggled up feeling the pain shooting through my knee as I put too much weight on it. I walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain, through the water pouring down the window, I could make out the cranes, towering over north London, as work continued on the Emrites stadium, only a stones throw away. For somebody more able than me, a short walk away. But at that point, for me that stadium felt miles away. Just another stadium I would never get a chance to play in.

For the past week or so whilst laying in my bed confined to wheel chair and ultimately the private room, all I could think about was finding somebody to blame for that terrible night. Obviously the man driving the Land Rover, who escaped any injury, but not the law, was to blame for the accident. But it didn’t stop there, I laid there starring at the ceiling, not noticing visitors, doctors or nurses coming and going, trying to fins somebody else to blame. My first thought was to blame Matt Holland, if it wasn’t for him I would never have been at the hospital that night, but then no, what happened wasn’t his fault, it was in the heat of a game.

My mind thought about blaming Fulham football club, but it was my choice to play for them. So despite trying to find someone else to blame ultimately I would end up blaming myself which had lead to me hating myself, I couldn’t look in the mirror, I didn’t care about the operations, I didn’t care what the doctors did to me. For the past weeks leading to the 30th October, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die.

But that day I had to be strong, and whilst I could barely walk, being strong for Hannah was the only thing that would happen. After my brother Neil helped me in my suit we were on our way to the Heathrow airport arrivals lounge. The flight from Cape Town was delayed but only by half an hour, thirty minutes later and I saw her for the first time in nearly a year. Tall, dressed all in black and despite the weather wear some big shades. She walked straight up to me and before either of us could speak she threw her arms around me and straight away I realised that the shades were there to disguise the fact that she was crying.

“Neil this is Hannah’s mum, Victoria” Neil offered a hand to be shaken, but instead Victoria threw her arms around Neil as well.

We returned back mine and Hannah’s flat, but I refused to go in, leaving Neil and Victoria to put her one single bag in the flat. And before I knew it I was sitting in the back of black car, driving through the streets of London behind a Hurst towards Brompton Crematorium, beside me in that car sat a sobbing Victoria, my mum Carol, my Brother Neil and Hannah’s sister Jo. When we arrived, whilst I may have been last to get out of the car, I was determined to be first man to walk behind the coffin. It may have taken time, due to the injuries I was carrying but I did it.

We sat there in that crematorium, the minister said his bit, Hannah’s mum stood up as did Jo, the Minister was just about to finish the service when for some reason, despite my head not wanting me to, I stood up. The pain searing down my leg, I grabbed my crutches and struggled to the front. As everybody watched, including school friends, team mates and family watched I placed my hand on the coffin.

“ I Hadn’t planned to come up here and say anything, My body and mind thought it would be better if I didn’t. But there is part of me right here, that wants to, and right now I’m listening to it, and I know that right up there Hannah is listening to it as well. I love you so much and I always have, me and you were meant to take on the world together, but it’s been taken away from us. I want to stand here right now and say, that I will do it; I will take on the world. But I know deep down in my heart that I can’t. It’s not my body that is broken, it’s ,my heart. That dreadful night, it wasn’t only the car that was crumpled, it was not only my leg that was shattered, it was my heart that was destroyed. My entire world was taken away from me that night. And to be honest with you I really don’t think I can go on. You were and always will be, my everything. The football career doesn’t matter, these people don’t matter, you’re the only person who ever mattered to me and without you I have nothing. I will always love you. I don’t want to say goodbye to you, and I refuse to. Saying goodbye implies that you’re leaving and you never will. You’re always going to be right here in my heart forever”

I leant over and kissed the coffin, as I did Jo stood back up and put here arm around me, as I stood back up, the tears had become too much to hold back, running down my face nearly as fast as the rain was outside. Whilst I didn’t want to let go of the coffin, Jo convinced me to sit back down, she helped me back to the seats and sat down with me, as she did the minister signalled to somebody, somewhere and the music started playing.

My life is brilliant. My love is pure. I saw an angel. Of that I'm sure. She smiled at me on the subway. She was with another man. But I won't lose no sleep on that, 'Cause I've got a plan.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful. You're beautiful, it's true. I saw your face in a crowded place, And I don't know what to do, 'Cause I'll never be with you.​

As James Blunt-You’re beautiful, Hannah’s favourite song played out the coffin started moving and Jo’s hand gripped mine, now both of us sat there as the coffin disappeared from sight, floods of tears pouring down our faces.


October 31st 2005
Aylsham, Nofolk​

We arrived back in Aylsham, where Me and Hannah had met for the first time, 10 years earlier. I don’t think I’d stopped crying since Jo had first put her arm around me and guided me away from the coffin, 24 hours earlier.

We pulled into the market place, and exited the car. The place was quiet as I struggled toward the Black Boys hotel. Jo, Victoria and Neil following closely. We went in and were greeted by all of the old school friends who were there the day before, and some who weren’t. Whilst I knew it would take me ages to walk to the High school where our love was first realised and blossomed, we did and that was where we’d scatter the first half of Hannah’s ashes. The second half was a little more complicated, as it required me, Jo and Victoria to get on a plane and travel down to Cape Town, but despite the doctors not telling me to, I was determined to do so. So later that night, with as much pain killers as I could handle flowing through my blood I was sat on board a plane at Heathrow airport as its started making the 11 hour flight down south heading to Cape Town.

November 2nd 2005
Cape Town
​
As the sun rose over South Africa that morning, I was already awake. My knee still in the brace, and the pain still searing through my leg but my body had become numb with grief. I thought maybe I had found something to help; I reached over to the bedside cabinet and grabbed the bottle of Vodka, taking a big sip despite it only being 5am local time. The vodka not only helped the pain of my leg, but also the pain that was large and growing in my heart. I sat on the edge of the bed that me and Hannah had shared when we came here a couple of years back to visit her mum. I opened the back-pack next to the bed, In there already was the urn containing Hannah’s ashes. Whilst I knew Hannah would disapprove of what I was about to do, I still done it, I slipped into the side of the bag a fresh, unopened bottle of vodka.

A few hours later, the sun now high in the sky, I stood on the side of the cliff where I had first told Hannah I was in love her, Jo and Victoria next to me. A small breeze was blowing across the bay as Victoria clutched the urn in her hand. As she unscrewed the top the wind picked up slightly, she didn’t have to tip it much and before long Hannah’s ashes were blowing around the bay, where I had proposed to her only 2 years ago. All 3 of us stood on the cliff top for around half an hour sharing memories, before Jo and Victoria headed back up to the house.

I on the other hand stayed up there. Part of me wanted to jump, the other part of me wanted to break down right there, but there was a small part of me that wanted to do what I did next, and for some reason that part won. I hobbled along that cliff top a short way, found a bench and reached into my bag. I pulled out the bottle of vodka I had put there earlier and unscrewed the top, and drank almost two, thirds of it. I held the bottle up and looked at it, then placed it on the bench next to me, took out my pain killers and an envelope, inside it was a letter to my friends and family. I took a deep breathe as unscrewed the cap of the pain killers before I once again reached into my bag, and took out a picture of me and Hannah, taken on that very spot. I looked at it and whispered to myself “I love you” and put the bottle of pain killers to my mouth, thrusting it back and emptying the entire contents into my mouth and down my throat. I then lifted the bottle of vodka to my mouth and emptied what remained of it. I had reached the lowest point of my life, and shortly after I drifted out of consciousness.
 
Hey guys. Chapter 8 will be coming really soon, and is inter Milan away. I will post as soon as I can a flight back from Spain where Im Currently stuck thanks to the volcanic ash cloud. Peace out!
 
Hey guys, I finally made it back from Spain earlier this afternoon. No Volcanic ash, and it was a bit of a trek. We decided to drive back and it took a while........as we stopped in a few places lol.

Anyway, The next update will be coming within the next 24-48 hours. Thank you very much for following.

Coming soon..Slavia Prague in the Europa League, Inter Milan Away and then a trip back in time to my 21st birthday

oh and lfc2datop Alice is indeed a babe, in the story and in real life ;)

---------- Post added at 10:28 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 09:56 PM ----------

Thursday 16th September 2010
Roma Vs. Slavia Prague
Europa League​

It was nearly noon when I arrived at our stadium, going into this game full of confidence, off of the back of another win in the league. This time a 2-1 win over Genoa, with Taddei and Mexes on the score sheet and had we absolutely dominated the game. They only scored a late consolation in the 92nd minute. That result meant we were now joint 2nd in the league 3 games, with only Udinese a point a head, and 2 points ahead of both AC and Inter Milan. But Thursday 16th September 2010, started a new chapter in my stay at Roma, that day we started our European Campagin properly. After going through the qualifaction stages we were in the group draw and were drawn along side, Slavia Prague, Besiktas and Maccabi Haifa.

The board had set me the target of getting through the group stage and into the first round of the knockout stages. But I wanted more. Deep down I needed more. After the disappointment in Toulousse with Fulham 7 months ago, which ultimately cost me my job, I wanted to go further. I knew we could do it as well. Even if we came up against one of the sides who were knocked out of the Champions League at the next stage, I was still confident we could get past them. The squad I had assembled was more than capable, not only of bringing league glory back to Rome, but also European glory as well.

As usual match day flew by, and soon I found myself giving my final team talk, still be translated but getting the Italian much better, I wished my team luck, told them they could win here tonight. And before I knew it they were in the tunnel. Me behind them, not in my usual training kit, this time in a Black Jacket similar to the one sported by Macini at Man City, minus the scalf.

The game kicked off and within the first 5 minutes we found ourselves in control of the match. Cerci had the ball on the right and played it back to De Rossi. Who in turn balled a first time ball out to Mirko Vucinic on the left, he danced ppast 2 defenders in what seemed to be one move and found himself 20 yards from goal, in the centre of the pitch, with hardly any back lift he struck the ball perfectly and it flew into the top right corner. 1-0 up after 9 minutes, the crowd in raptures and me on the edge of the technical area fist clenched, raised in the air in celebration. I walked back to the dugout, as I did I looked up into the stand where Alice was sitting, but she wasn’t there. I didn’t think anything of it, only that it was typical of her to miss the action.

Another 25 minutes past, in which we hit the bar through Riise, and Benjani and Van Der Varrt forced two good saves from their keeper. We needed to get a second goal before half time. 32 minutes in Vucinic cut inside again and drifted past their central midfielder, a quick one-two with Benjani and he was clean through, he slotted it home, making it 2-0 and once again delighting the crowd.

Half time and we led 2-0. I told the team to carry on doing what it was they were doing in the first half, dominate as much as possible. The players left the changing room and headed out for the second half, I was a second behind them, but as I left somebody grabbed my arm and dragged me to one side, before I could work out who it was, Alice was kissing me.

“I love you”

I replied in similar fashion, then asked her where she had been for the first goal. She told me that her and Marco were at the bar just getting a drink as the queues had gone. I smiled at her, kissed her again and walked back down the tunnel, just as the second half kicked off.

Once again we settled very quickly, and 5 minutes in Mexes cleared the ball forward, it fell straight at De Rossi’s feet, he turned looked up and spotted the run of Van Der Varrt, he flicked the ball over the defence and Rafeal was through 30 yards from goal, the keeper advancing on him quickly. But Rafeal as cool as you like chipped the ball over his head and straight into the net, the crowd erupted as we took a 3-0 lead.

It should have been more, as Okaka a second half sub for Benjani struck the post, Vucini had a chance to finish his hat trick as he had a shot cleared off the line and Gibson, also a second half sub went inches past the post with a header from a corner. But 3-0 was a great start to what I hoped was a long and successful campaign in Europe.

The post match interviews done, the rest of the team gone home, Alice already waiting for me at home, I left the stadium. I got into my car and turned on my iPod

How many special people change? How many lives are living strange? Where were you while we were getting high? Slowly walking down the hall, Faster than a cannonball, Where were you while we were getting high? Someday you will find me, Caught beneath the landslide, In a champagne supernova in the sky........................

As Oasis played and I drove away from the stadium, I looked back through the mirror as The Stadio Olimpico loomed large behind me. I passed through the main gates and they were closed behind me. As I pulled up the road and past a couple of bars, full of fans celebrating our victory I smiled to myself, big smile a huge smile in fact. After 5 months with out a home, after a further 3 months of wondering if actually was the place where I was suppose to be, I finally felt relaxed, I finally felt comfortable, I finally felt at home. England has seemed so far away when I first joined, but at that moment, I didn’t care if it was the other side of world, Italy was exactly where I wanted to be, I fitted in here, I was loved here. Not like the streets of London, where over Christmas and into the New Year I was hated. The fans wanted rid of me, but not here. Here they were falling in love with me. Here they adored me already. At that moment in time I never wanted to leave Rome.
 
Some brilliant writing here mate, it is as though i have picked up a book. I am very impressed. Keep up the great work.
 
Chapter 9
Wednesday 22nd September 2010
Inter Milan Vs. Roma
​
Whilst it had only been 5 days since We’d hosted Slavia Prague in The Europa League we had extended our unbeaten start to the season in Serie A, brushing aside Reggina 2-1 away from home, with Mexes (3) and Cerci (9), once again their goal came in the 90th minute. But this time we hadn’t dominated the game, and it was fairly evenly matched, both sides had chances, and come the end of the game we were under heavy pressure.
This wasn’t made easier when Philippe Mexes got sent off for a rash challenge on Barilla in the 46th minute. Not only did mean we were under pressure against Reggina, it meant that we were going into one of the biggest games of the seasons without my first choice center back.

Once again, match day itself seemed to be a blur, we arrived at the San Siro around an hour before kick off. The boys were out on the pitch warming up when my path finally crossed with his, for the first time in my managerial career. I turned the corner heading down tp the changing room and right in front of me, his arm out stretched waiting for me to shake his hand, stood Jose Mourinho. A man i had admired from a far since his days at Chelsea. A man who it was heavily rumoured wanted to sign me for the blues, before the accident that ruined my career. He was pleasent, and actually funny. We laughed and joked for a good ten minutes, before he finally let me go into our changing room to deliver my pre-match team talk.

According to the bookmakers we were going into that match as the underdog, but confidently I told my team, that we were favourites, on our day we could beat anybody. Including Jose and and his Inter team. I had made two changes for this game from the last three. Bringing in Juan for the suspended Mexes and welcoming back my club captain Totti to replace Benjani, who at the time was struggling to settle in Italy.
The game kicked off and Inter took control straight away, and 5 minutes in Sneijder played a lovely ball through ripping our defence in half and leaving Milito one on one with Doni. Milito slotted the ball past our Brazilian keeper and Inter led 1-0. But two minutes later, we had our first chance. De Rossi picked the ball up and Inter just backed off, De Rossi found himself on the edge of the area and struck the ball, forcing Storari to make the save and concede the corner. Both sides had further chances, our best coming from Van Der Varrt, who put the ball past a stranded Storari, but just ast the post as well, at half time we found ourselves still in the game, just 1-0 down.

Half time, I told my team we could still win here tonight, and brought on Gibson for Pizarro and Baptista on for Cerci to prvide more piower in our midfield.

We kicked off and the changes nearly worked instantly, with Gibson hitting the bar from twenty yards and Baptista going close 5 minutes in, from the resulting corner Inter broke, and Milito once again found himself one on one with Doni, and just as he had in the first half, he slotted the ball home making it 2-0 after 52 minutes. But the second goal seemed to spark us into with, and 71 minutes in Baptista out muscled their right midfielder and took the ball on, lashingit toward the goal from 25 yards. It flew past Storari and we right back in it at 2-1.

We had chance after chance, Gibson, Riise and Okaka (on for Totti, 60) all came close. Then in the 81st minute, Baptista and Riise exchangesd passes, and Riise carried the ball into thew Inter half, he played another one-two, this time with Gibson and struck the return first time, the ball bent perfectly into the top corner. 2-2! I ran out of the dugout, both hands in the air celebrating as the San Siro fell quiet apart form our fans celebrating. Doni was forced to make another save from Storari to deny him his hattrick, and we had a free kick in the 92nd minute which Vucinic struck just over the bar, and so it finished 2-2. A great result in my eyes. Jose shook my hand and told me it was a great come back.

As we sat on the coach heading back to the hotel for the night, before travelling back to rome first thing, I was a proud manager. Proud that my boys had proved me right, that we could challenge for the title this year, we could take on anyone and get a result. After that game we were in fourth, two points behind Udinese and Napoli, and tied with AC Milan on 11 points. We were still unbeaten and we had just come away from one of rivals for the title with a point.

I was happy as I sipped my Orange juice in the hotel bar that night, watching the TV, watching the highlights from the weekends games in England. Chelsea, Man City and Liverpool all still unbeaten and tied at the top of the Premier League. Whilst part of me wanted to be back their, back playing the likes of City, United, Arsenal, Chelsea and Liverpool. The other part of me wanted to stay here, in Italy forever. Everything was working right, everything was going so well. No constant pressure from the press. No fans getting on my back before, during and after games. Football is a funny game and it’s amazing how much things can change in short amount of time.
 
fantastic! Very original idea. Yea you could really write a book about it ! I would buy!
 
Chapter 10
February 5th 2006​

I woke up that Morning at around 10, in what had become the black hole of an apartment. The pain still in my knee, and the brace making sleeping increasingly harder to get a decent night sleep. I had been living back here since being released from hospital in Cape Town after my attempted suicide three months previous. Whilst I was living in alone, there was always people coming round, checking up on me.

That morning, I was woken up by the garbage truck as it pulled through the streets of London. I shifted my weight to the edge of the bed and clambered out and towards my chair where I had spent pretty much all my time since returning there. I turned the TV on, but instead of going straight to Sky sports news as I would have done before the accident I just turned it on, not caring what was on, it was the noise I wanted. Some sort of noise to stop me sitting in my pit of hatred and loathing in silence, thinking about those moments over and over in my head. The moment that Land Rover crushed the side of our car, the moment Hannah woke up, just before she left me and the moment I sat there in South Africa and wanted to end it all.

I had started to get my mind back under control, and no longer wanted to end my own life, but I still didn’t feel right. I still didn’t want to go outside and see the world, I still didn’t want to feel the air on my face and seeing people, people who just constantly asked questions, about thing I was trying to forget. But I had to. I had to face the world at least twice a week, if I ever wanted to walk without that **** brace and those **** crutches. But luckily that day wasn’t one of those day where I had doctors prodding me, asking questions.

Today I had nothing planned, no intention to leave that flat, not even any intention of opening the blinds, darkness had apparently become one of my only friends. The only thing I had to do was, play pleasant to the nurse who would be there at some point.
She arrived around half 2, and with her bought up the post. After I had lied to her, telling her I had done my weight training for the day, and been up since 7, she left. I picked up the stack of letters, one of which had the Fulham logo on it. That one went straight into the bin, the last thing I wanted that day was to be reminded of what I could have been doing. There was a stack of cards there as well, but I didn’t want to open them. I knew exactly what they were, but I didn’t want to see it.

I turned off the TV and hit the power button on the Hi-fi remote. X&Y by Coldplay starting whirring into place as I sat there and starred at the stack of birthday cards. Four months before thay day me and Hannah had planned it down to every last detail, the London Eye, the walk through the parks, Dinner at some posh hotel. Today was the day I had planned to drop to one knee and proposed to the woman I love. But now I could even bend my knee. As I starred at the card a bag caught my eye behind them. I leant over and dragged it towards me, the label fell off.

“To Steven, Happy 21st Love from Dad”

I put my hand into the bag and dragged out two bottles of whiskey, which showed how much my dad knew m. I hate whiskey and never drank it. In the background I could hear as Chris Martin started singing one of the songs I had heard probably 100 times over the months leading up to that moment.

When you try your best but you don't succeed, When you get what you want but not what you need, When you feel so tired but you can't sleep, Stuck in reverse.

I don’t know what it was but at that moment, half four on my twenty first birthday, I unscrewed the top of one of the bottles of whiskey and poured it into the tumbler which by that time looked like it hadn’t been washed for a couple of weeks

And the tears come streaming down your face, When you lose something you can't replace, When you love someone but it goes to waste, Could it be worse?

The pain in my leg was throbbing as I put the glass to my lips, and took one swift gulp. The glass half empty. I held it up to the small beam of light which was breaking through the blinds.

Lights will guide you home, And ignite your bones, And I will try to fix you!

I took the glass and gulped down the remaining whiskey. But I didn’t stop, five glasses later, and I suddenly noticed that my knee had stopped aching, stopped throbbing. Something in my brain, told me that this was the answer, the end of the heart ache and the pain. I finished the bottle and started on the second.

By eleven that night, I had finished both bottles. I sat there, pain free for the first time in three months, and thought I could take on the world, even with the feeling I was about to vomit. I stood up as quick as my body would allow and, as if forgetting completely about the accident, about the injuries I took a few steps unaided. But then after the fourth my knee gave way. I crashed to the floor taking my mobile, TV remote and a table with me. As my body hit the floor, a reflex happened through out my body, and with no control what so ever, the content of my stomach started coming up. I tried to hold it in but it was no good and soon, I was laying a pool of my own vomit. I laid there, and started crying. My tears running down my face and to the carpet. I tried to get myself up and grabbed the near by chair, but my hand slipped off as I struggled up, and once again I crashed to the floor. The whiskey took control of my body, and suddenly I didn’t even care that I was laying I the floor and covered in my own sick.........I passed out a drunken mess.
 
Thanks for all the support. Chapters 11 and 12 will be coming shortly.

Fiorentina and Return to England for an England International.
 
**** me, this is an awesome story. keep it up mate. Very original, incredibly well written.
 
Chapter 11
October 3rd 2010
Fiorentina Vs. Roma​

“Tanto per ricapitolare, i rom hanno attirato qui a Firenze e rimanere al quarto posto”
​
That’s what I heard through my iPhone’s radio tuner as we boarded the coach about to leave Florence and head back to Rome.

“So to recap, Roma have drawn here in Florence and remain fourth”​

Today’s result was a slightly disappointing end to a good two weeks since Inter Milan away. Since then we had beat Ascoli 2-0 (Gibson 13 & Totti 75) and we had gone to Israel and dominated Maccabi Haifi running out 4-0 winners and were top of our group, with a one hundred percent record after two games.

We’d just finished a tough game against Fiorentina (0-0) and were just about to leave for the three hour journey back to Rome, when my phone cut off from the radio and start vibrating, I answered it, and it was Alice wondering what time I would get home. No congratulations or commiserations on the result, no clue to how the other teams got on that day. Just a quick question What time I was going to be home?!?

Practically before I had answered she was gone again, but just before she had gone I heard a voice, a male voice, Marco’s voice again. Stunned at the quickness of the phone call I held my phone in my hand looking at it, before suddenly being nudged back by Darren Gibson as he boarded the coach.

Half an hour later, Florence behind us and the Tuscany night sky growing darker and darker we were on our way back to Rome. We were still near the top of the league, we were still unbeaten. We had gone from many people’s outsiders to favourites in just six games. The Italian press were heralding me for trying to bring flare back to their League. Pundits back in England were building me up as a one of the countries top managers. It was all so different at the end of last season, people, fans, pundits and the press alike all questioning my ability.

But despite all the accolades and praise one thing was bugging me as I sat alone at the front of the coach. That phone call, why so brief, why was she with Marco? I reached for my phone and turned off the iPod cutting off Pendulum’s Blood Sugar. I looked at the phone and bought up Alice’s number. I was a bout to dial when John Arne Riise came a sat opposite me.

“Is this a good time boss?”​

It wasn’t really my mind was completely else where, my mind was in my flat, my mind was on what might or might not be happening in my flat. But still John sat their and started talking.

“Boss, I’m sorry I reacted badly when you took over. I’m sorry I handed in the transfer request.”

“John I understood, I was coming in, replacing a friend of yours. If I was you when I was playing I probably would have done the same thing.”

“I’ve changed my mind, I want to stay. I really think we can achieve something great. Since I left England I have wanted to go back, but you’ve bought some of England here, you’ve got this team playing with style and dominating games.”​

I smiled back at him, told him I was happy that he wanted to stay here and that he had become a big part of the clubs structure under me. He left me alone again at the front of the coach, so I pulled out my phone again. I must have looked at for half an hour, debating whether to ring Alice or not. I decided to hit dial as I did the signal disappeared.
For the remainder of the journey home I sat with my headphones in, and my eyes shut. So many things running through my mind. Occasionally looking to see if my signal had returned, but it rarely did, and when it did it soon disappeared again.

Eventually after what seemed to be an age we pulled into the club car park. I was first off the coach and stood by the door as the rest of the team got off. But I didn’t acknowledge them, not one of them as they headed off to their sports cars and into the night. My eyes were fixed on a light, a light on the horizon. My bedroom light of my flat, still glaring lighting the night sky. I had to drop something’s off in to my office so I walked down the lonely corridors, past the night receptionist Sarah, who had recently got a job whilst in Italy, travelling from Southampton. I opened the door of my office and sat down behind my desk. I looked over at the shelf and saw a bottle of whiskey Danny Murphy had sent me as a good luck present when I joined.

I picked the bottle up, my mind racing with what was going on in that flat. Part of me wanted to open it and drink the lot, the very same part of me that I had fought so hard to defeat five years previous. I just looked at the bottle before putting it down again. I walked back out of my office and smiled at Sarah before looking back at the light, it was still on. I got in my car and drove back my flat.

I got out of my car and quietly closed the door, looking up at the light. There was no noise, not just from my flat, but no noise from anywhere. I walked up the steps and opened the door; the front room light was off, Alice’s shoes by the door and as usual with Alice nothing out of place at all. I went through to the bedroom, the light was on, but Alice was sound asleep. Next to the bed her Italian/English Phrase book. My heart was telling me that nothing had been going on. But my mind was still racing, had Marco really been here? Had anything of actually gone on if he had been? How long could it have been going on?

I sat on the edge of the bed, and started undressing. I glanced back at Alice as I took off my shirt as I did she stirred and opened her eyes, smiling at me straight away. Suddenly my mind stop racing and everything I had been thinking about for the past four hours subsided, they didn’t disappear and at that point I knew they would arise again, but right then my heart won the debate, my love for Alice was far too strong to throw away on a misunderstanding, on a feeling, on my mind running wild on a lonely coach journey through the Italian night. I leant over to Alice and kissed her, placing my hand on her cheek.

“I love you honey” ​

She replied with a similar response, before I leant back up and finished undressing. I rolled on to the bed, and laid down next to my beautiful girlfriend. I turned the light off, as I did my hand was grabbed by Alice, she pulled me over and on top of her, within seconds she was biting my bottom lip and we were entangled in what turned out to be a night of passion.

---------- Post added at 04:50 AM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 05:07 AM ----------

Chapter 12
Wednesday 13th October 2010
England vs Wales (Wembley, London)​

The plane touched down at Gatwick early in the morning and I finally stepped out in the London air around half eight local time. It was cold and as per usual for October in London a light drizzle was falling from the sky.

Not only was this trip a business trip, but the majority of the day was going to be a personal day before I sat alongside Ian Wright, Andy Townsend and opposite Adrian Chiles in the ITV studio at Wembley. When ITV had offered me a place on their pundits panels for this game I snapped up the offer, not because of the money but because four days after that game, would mark the five year anniversary of the crash that ended my career and took away my one true love.

I hailed my cab from Gatwick, and within an hour was slap bang in the middle of Central London. Whilst the cold weather was making my knee ache, I decided to walk around a bit. Take in the sights and sounds of my home country whilst I could. I walked down by the river, a few people stopping and looking and a couple asking me for an autograph. I walked along the river from Tower bridge right down to the West of London, along the way buying two bunches of flowers. I got to the Glass Mill and crossed the Battersea Bridge; I got half way across before I stopped. I’m not entirely sure why I did, but I stopped there for around twenty minutes looking out across the river in silence. Finally I carried on and got to the corner where it had all changed five years previous.

No marks left on the road, not marks on the pavements and the tree on the corner gone, replaced by a bench. All that sat by the road was a metal green railing, with a Fulham scarf tied to the side of it. I smiled as I looked at it, more to the point I looked at the two reefs that were tied to it. One with a Fulham FC logo in the middle of it, the other a South African flag poking from the top of it. The second had a card on it.

“Gone but never forgotten. We all will love you forever and always”

I placed one of the bunches of flowers down on the back of the railing and took a seat on the memorial bench I and Hannah’s family had paid for. I sat there for around an hour, just taking in passing traffic and people. I sat there thinking about how happy Me and Hannah had been, my playing career and the bad job I had done at Fulham as a manager, before my phone interrupted me.

It was Alice. In the ten days that had passed since Fiorentina not only had we beaten Bologna 1-0 (Gudjohnsen 92) and moved up to third in the league, Me and Alice seemed to have grown closer. The thoughts of her having an affair had been quelled when she finished her Italian lessons with Marco and as far as I knew she hadn’t seen him since. Everything seemed to back to how they were when we first arrived in Italy.
I answered the phone and we chatted for about half an hour, not really talking about anything. She wanted to be with me in England but she had a modelling job in Milan for Gucci and their winter collection. As I hung up I noticed the time, it was nearly one so I hailed a taxi and headed to my Mum’s.

I sat in the kitchen at my Mum’s as she made me dinner, looking out over back garden and occasionally glancing up at the Emrites towering high, as me and mum talked about Italy and Roma. We laughed and joked for a good hour before finally she bought up the one thing I was dreading. How was I coping personally. I had only spoken to my mum twice after I had been sacked from Fulham. I regretted it, but the day after I was sacked I left London, my mum and brother behind and headed back to Norfolk. Before finally deciding to go over to the states for a few months, where very few people knew me, where I could get away from everything and away from football being a mainstream sport. It was in New York I met Alice for the first time.

After a catch up with my brother Neil I found myself heading to Wembley. The England fans starting to gather ahead of the countries second qualifier against Wales. Whist England’s failure to get past the Quarter finals at the World cup in South Africa, once again going out on Penalties to Argentina, expectations were high for England ahead of the European Championships. In their opening game they had blown away Bulgaria in Sofia 3-1 (Gerrard 25, Rooney 68 and Lampard 89) and the country expected a huge performance that day against Wales.

After the initial meeting with the ITV team and finally meeting one of my heroes Ian Wright, I was sat in front of the camera fielding questions about Roma. How was life in Italy and one I wasn’t expecting. If a big job came up in England, would I consider it?

“England is my home, and where I learnt my trade. Whilst I would love to one day manage in the Premeir League again, right now my place is Rome and Roma. I really feel we can challenge for the title this year.”

The questions over, the game started. The crowd was electric. And it didn’t take England long to break through, nine minutes had passed when Gerrard slotted home making it 1-0. Two minutes later Gerrard again put the ball into the net making it 2-0. England dominated the rest of the first half. The only down side to the half was an injury picked up by Baines.

The second half started brilliantly for England, Ashley Young scoring after just ten seconds. 3-0 to England and they weren’t finished there as rooney slotted home after sixty six minutes. At 4-0 England knocked the ball about with confidence and hit the bar twice and the post through Lapard, Gerrard and Crouch. Wales did get a consolation goal through Simon Church but didn’t offer any way of resistance to Capello’s men.
The show over, the stadium empty and lights off I headed out of Wembley stadium. The crowd had gone as I walked up Wembley way with my friend Danny who had been in the crowd. We reached the steps of the tube station I stopped and looked back at Wembley and the huge arch that towered above it. Danny stopped and looked round at me.

"What you thinking about?"

“I’m going to manage a side here one day, that’s what I want Danny, that’s what Hannah wanted.”

“What about Roma?”

“Rome is great, Roma are great, but that’s just a stepping stone. I want to be back in this country. This is the home of Football mate. I realised that today. This is where every English manager should want to be, here in England, Aiming to get there. I will prove myself in Rome, I will win something and once I have, I’m coming home. And I’m going to get there!”
 
I can't beleive how good this is, I **** you not chills were going down my spine at times. Oh yeah don't like that Marco guy, got a funny feeling about him.
 
Thursday 26th March 2006
London, England​

I sat in my chair and turned the TV on. I didn’t have to adjust the channel it was already on the At the Races, Sky Channel. Over the past month the TV along with a laptop and a bottle of Jack had become the only real company I had, with the exception of the weekly physio appointment, which I had started missing on a regular occasion.

As I started up the laptop I poured myself a glass of Jack Daniels. This had pretty much become my daily routine. Get out of bed at around ten, turn on the TV and laptop. Pour my first drink of the day and then sit in the chair watching and betting on horse racing, playing online poker and drinking.

I placed a bet on the 11:10 from Newmarket as an unexpected Email arrived from my mate Danny.

“I’m in London, I’m coming round whether you like it or not”​

I deleted it and carried on watching the racing. Yet again, another loss. I knew what I was doing was wrong, , and would ultimately land me in huge debt. But right then I didn’t care, there was nothing I cared about. I didn’t care that I hadn’t showered sine Saturday, I didn’t care that I hadn’t been out of the house since Friday, and that was to only go to off-licence. Right then the only thing I cared about was where the next drink was coming from, and when the next race was. I didn’t even care that there appeared to some idiot banging on my door.

“I know you’re in there mate”

I just sat there​

“Look I’m not going anywhere until you let me in”​

I still just sat there, but this time I turned the TV up louder. But it didn’t stop Danny from practically banging my door down. I leant over and grabbed the Hi-Fi remote, nearly knocking the precious bottle of Jack over. I hit the power button and a CD clicked into place, as I hit the volume button, the Arctic Monkey’s got louder and louder.

Stop making the eyes at me, I'll stop making the eyes at you. What it is that surprises me is that I don't really you to, And your shoulders are frozen (as cold as the night)
Oh, but you're an explosion but you're dynamite, Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand! Lightning the fuse might in a bang with a bang-go.
​



“Fine have it your way!”​
Danny finally shouted over the top​

With Danny gone, I turned the Hi-fi off and TV down to a normal level. I got up and limped over to the bathroom. Whilst the brace was off of my knee and I’d had the final operation on it, I was still in a huge amount of pain. But the mixture of painkillers and alcohol seemed to help. I limped past the huge mirror that Hannah had bought and into the bathroom. As I walked out I was greeted by a huge surprise, stood in the middle of my lounge was Danny. He had managed to persuade the caretaker to let him.

“What the **** are you doing in here!”​
I shouted angrily​

“Look, we’re all worried. Nobody’s seen you, heard from you since......”
“Well you’ve seen me, now do one! I’m fine. Get the F**k out of my flat!”
“I’m not leaving until you agree to get some help”
“Help, why the **** would I need help!”
“Look at yourself, look at this place!” ​

He walked over to the bin and throw its contents onto the floor, spilling 3 empty bottle of Whiskey and tonne of crisp packets. He then walked over to the dinning area table and dropped another two empty bottles on the floor.​

“Alright stop!”​
“No Steven I won’t, just look at yourself in that mirror! What the **** would Hannah think of you”​

With that i snapped, I picked an empty glass up off of the counter and threw at my best friend. It missed him and shattered against the wall.​

“I dare you to try that again”​

So I did, this time the glass hit him, but didn't break​

“Right that’s it”​

He charged at me, and unable to get away quickly due to the injuries, he was on top of my about to punch me before I knew it. But he stopped as tears started to pour from my face. I proper broke down right there in the middle of the living room floor.

Danny helped me to my feet and as he did I finally saw myself in the large mirror. I was a disgrace; I had lost roughly around two stone and the majority of my muscle mass. The beard on my face had started to get so long that it was turning ginger. I hadn’t washed properly for weeks. I was a mess. Danny stood behind me and put his arm around me.

“I’m going to help you through this mate. Not just me, but everybody. We can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through but staying in this room coped up like this isn’t right. You belong out there. First things first, you’ve got to get yourself together. Go and get in that bathroom, shave and shower and we’ll start from there.”​
 
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