The Return of Dan's East European Adventure

[Zed616]

Awesome update mate, and an easy group as you pointed out, or should I say Damjan pointed out ? Looking forward to the updates to follow this one.

 

[martinbissett]

unlucky you got the mighty scotland (not) :S I love this story keep up the good work

 

[SamScfc]

I've not read an update so far, but I'm following from now on.

So, what team are you managing?

 

[Pompey_Dan]

MOJ KAPETAN
(MY CAPTAIN)​

Just two weeks after his appointment, the new Montenegro boss had travelled to Rome to meet his star striker Mirko Vucinic in person. Mirko had to admit this impressed him greatly, few managers would have taken such trouble. The two men sat in a small cafe just off the Piazza Del Colosseo and, whilst they ate lunch, Lake talked of his plans for the team and the role Vucinic would play.

Lake talked animatedly about his 4-2-3-1 formation, about how Vucinic would be the focal point of an attacking quartet. “Mirko, your goals will take us to the World Cup.” He had asserted with no sense of exaggeration. This wasn’t just rhetoric, the manager believed what he was saying and by the time they had finished their espresso’s Mirko had started believing it too.

“I’ll tell you something my friend, the night after I accepted this job I had a dream.” Lake declared in a hushed tone, “and in that dream we were returning from the World Cup in Spain. The people of Montenegro had come in their thousands to give us a heroes’ welcome, there was a band and the head of state was there. It was a glorious time.” Vucinic smiled at the thought of such a scene as he continued. “But the crowd chanted one name more than any other and the press all wanted to speak to Mirko Vucinic.”

“Me?” The striker asked with surprise.

“Well, wouldn’t you want to spend just a few moments with the man who captained these magnificent men?"

«««««​

Six months later Mirko Vucinic was preparing to the lead the team out in a friendly against Norway. A brave new era in Montenegrin football was set to begin and the excitement was palatable. As Vucinic stepped out of the tunnel, and onto the pitch, the floodlights shone brightly and the roar of the crowd was deafening.

 

[Joss]

Brilliant update Dan, one of my favourites, i think.

Btw what tactic are you using?

 

[Alex]

This is ******* amazing.

 

[Pompey_Dan]

SATURDAY 04/06/2016​

​

“Get in there!” Forty five seconds into the friendly against Norway and Montenegro were 1-0 up. Fiorentina’s Stevan Jovetic had played the ball square for the on rushing Nikola Drincic. The midfielder had looked up, taken a single touch and then let fly with a ferocious right foot shot. From thirty yards out the ball had evaded the Norwegian keeper and curled into the top corner. The stadium erupted, I leapt from the dug-out and, with my foot coming down on a discarded water bottle, I landed in an embarrassing heap in the technical area. My assistant Dmitry was laughing as he helped me to my feet.

The early promise of a big win evaporated as the match degenerated into a midfield battle. Neither side threatened to score, although Drincic and Nemanja Nikolic did rattle the woodwork twice with long range efforts.

In the second half, I had to admit that Norway looked the better organised team and they scored a deserved equaliser on 53 minutes. From inside the area Daniel Fredheim-Holm finished a well crafted move by the Norwegian midfield, it would prove to be the last goal of the game.

I was disappointed that we had given the opposition so much room in our half of the pitch, tomorrow the players would be made to watch the video of their mistakes before returning to their clubs.

That night, over a vodka or four, Dmitry and I talked through the game’s high and low points. So it wasn’t the best start I could have hoped for, and it would do nothing to silence my critics in the press, but it was far from a humiliation. Feeling more positive about things I switched on the TV, my jaw dropped as I watched the images that flashed before me. At that moment the network was showing, in glorious slow motion, footage of me falling over as I celebrated the goal! Behind me Dmitry started laughing, overcoming my initial embarrassment I joined him... what else could I do?

---------- Post added at 06:58 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 07:20 PM ----------

WEDNESDAY 07/09/2016​

My palms were sweaty and my stomach was tied in knots. My only consolation was that no matter how nervous I felt Dmitry Los’kov, my assistant manager and a natural born worrier, would be feeling a lot worse.

Today we were hosting Scotland in the opening match of our World Cup qualifying campaign and, as the national anthems played, I remembered my father’s xenophobia and his mistrust of the Scots in particular. I wondered had he still been alive what would he make of his son managing the Montenegrin national side?

My daydreaming was brought to an abrupt end by the shrill sound of the referee’s whistle. The teams were kicking off.

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B2UsMrAPZ2E"]Highlights - Montenegro v Scotland[/ame]​

(for best viewing results watch in 720hp HD)​

---------- Post added at 07:03 PM ---------- Previous post was at 06:58 PM ----------

ADDING SOME STEEL​

​

Dmitry Los’kov poured himself another vodka as he replayed the evening’s events in his mind. There was no doubt that losing their star striker Mirko Vucinic had been a blow but, despite this, the team had attacked with confidence. The question that haunted him was why did Montenegro defend like school boys?”

Los’kov decided that the two central midfielders, Nikola Drincic and Nemanja Nikolic, hadn’t provided enough cover for the defence. Ever the pragmatist, his head told him the team needed an enforcer, a midfielder with presence who could break up the opposition’s attacks, but who could they call upon?

He picked up one of the many scouting reports strewn across the desk in front of him. Ilja Glavan, 26 years old and playing for Ujpest in the Czech top division, he was untested at this level but Dmitry believed the lad was comfortable enough on the ball and most importantly he had the necessary spirit.

He put the report aside, drained his glass and picked up another handwritten sheet. Mladen Kascelan was 33 and had plenty of experience having played in Serbia, Germany, Poland and Ukraine during his 17 year career. He had already collected 11 caps for Montenegro and, as a bullish defensive midfielder, he undoubtedly fitted the profile that Los’kov had in mind. But Kascelan would be 35 by the time qualifying was over and this was a cause for concern.

The final report he scanned was that of Srdan Nikolic, a 21 year old who could make it as an eminent box-to-box midfielder if he could find a bit more pace. Los’kov felt the player had enough promise to warrant them taking a closer look at him.

Dmitry’s thoughts were interrupted by the groundsman’s knock at the door, it was 11:00pm and he was locking up. Los’kov slipped the three reports into his jacket pocket and, already considering how each of these players could be integrated into the team, he decided that he’d talk the boss around tomorrow.


---------- Post added at 07:42 PM ---------- Previous post was at 07:03 PM ----------

SATURDAY 08/10/2016​

​

As I sat up in bed that night I reflected on the friendly game that had brought with it my first victory as the Montenegro manager. Montenegro had dominated their opponents, Japan, and the 2-1 score suggested that the match was a lot closer than it really had been.

My assistant manager had talked me into calling up three new players, convincing me that the team needed more strength in the middle of the park. I had to admit that Ilija Glavan had been decent alongside Nikola Drincic, and that the two of them had bossed the midfield.

Our first goal had come from a corner, defender Marko Filipovic getting the vital touch from just a yard in front of goal. A couple of months ago I had travelled to Las Palmas to convince Filipovic to play for Montenegro over his native Serbia. I had to be persistent and eventually he agreed although his inclusion wasn’t popular amongst the Montenegrin press. He was distinctly average in his first two caps but now he had repaid my faith in the best possible way.

On 77 minutes a dreadful own goal from Dejan Damjanovic had levelled the scores temporarily but, with eight minutes remaining, captain Stevan Jovetic rose above his marker to head home a sublime cross from right-back Elsad Zverotic.

I just hoped that the win would strengthen the team’s confidence ahead of the tie in Stockholm in five days time. With that I slipped the headphones on to my head and lay back listening to the ‘teach yourself Serbian’ CD that my language teacher had given me.
“Where is the toilet... Gde je toilet”

---------- Post added at 08:28 PM ---------- Previous post was at 07:42 PM ----------

WEDNESDAY 12/10/2016​

The journey from Podgorica to Stockholm had taken nine hours, courtesy of a lengthy delay at Podgorica airport. The players were tired, their tempers were frayed and a few arguments had broken out during the journey. “Great,” I thought, “this is all I need before what could be the most important match of our qualifying campaign.”

That night, there was a small fire in the kitchens of the hotel in which we were staying. At 1:00am everybody had had to evacuate the building and congregate in the hotel car park. As I stood there waiting for the signal that meant we could return to our beds, all around me were Montenegro’s finest, bleary eyed and dead on their feet.
“What else can go possibly go wrong?” I looked to my assistant Dmitry for some crumb of comfort, but he was just as bewildered as me.

My pre-match talk had largely fallen on deaf ears, the players were tired and I just hoped that they could find the energy to play from somewhere. “The last 24 hours will be nothing but a distant memory when we land in Spain for the finals.” Joked Dmitry as we took our seats in the dugout.
“I’d feel a lot happier if I thought you really believed that.” I responded.

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TZUC0SHNJo"]Highlights - Sweden v Montenegro[/ame]​

(for best viewing results watch in 720hp HD)​

---------- Post added at 08:32 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:28 PM ----------

THE IMBECILE​

​

As far as journalist Damjan Andric was concerned two draws from their last two competitive matches hardly made the Montenegrin manager Dan Lake a potential legend. Okay, so he had to admit that one of those draws was against group favourites Sweden and, furthermore, the team had demonstrated guts and determination in pressing superior opposition but he wouldn’t start packing his suitcase for the World Cup just yet!

Damjan had made his views clear in today’s column. Lake still had a lot to prove and a lot of Serbian to learn. What was that rubbish he was spouting before the game about “only in the dictionary does success come before work,” did he not realise that this wasn’t the case in the Serbian dictionary? No, Damjan had decided that the man entrusted with his nation’s World Cup hopes was no better than an imbecile.

If his editor had his way then Damjan would be interviewing the “imbecile” after the next round of qualifying games. He had tried to convince his boss that he wasn’t the right man for the job but to no avail. “I will show the people of Montenegro what a mistake Lake's appointment was,” vowed Damjan.

---------- Post added at 08:33 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:32 PM ----------

HEADING FOR THE EXIT?​

​

“Dmitry, I’m sick of this.” I said flinging the newspaper on to my assistant’s desk. The two of us shared an office at the headquarters of the Montengro FA. There was another room next door for the Assistant Manager but Dmitry had never set foot in it. We were a team, one mind in two bodies and I couldn’t imagine how our relationship would work if we didn’t share the same working environment. The office was small and in need of some renovation, paint peeled on the walls and mousetraps sat alongside the skirtings.

“I have won championship and cup medals, I shouldn’t have to grovel at the feet of journalists to gain a little respect.”
Dmitry remained silent as he scanned the mornings copy of “Dan.” The article hadn’t been complimentary about the team’s performance against Sweden and it was particularily scathing about my own methods of management.
“Forget them boss, what do these pencil pushers know about the game?” Dmitry tried to reassure me, but it did little to lighten my mood.
“I’m ready to walk away from this, I hear Red Star Belgrade want a new manager.”
Dmitry looked genuinely shocked, “don’t expect me to come with you. I have never walked away from a job and I’m not about to start today. You just need a vodka inside you, give you some... perspective.”
“It’s ten in the morning! No thanks,” I replied. Dmitry’s drinking was becoming more frequent and I was concerned for him, but I said nothing as he poured himself a large measure of vodka.
“Do you remember the day you asked me to join you here in Montenegro?” He asked in an almost paternal tone. “You told me that we needed to show the world that we were back, that we were the best coaching team in Eastern Europe. Now you want to throw that all away and leave a large question mark hanging over our memories. You are crazy my friend.
You go, I stay and you’ll only ever be remembered as one half of what could have been the best coaching partnership ever!”

He was right, I wasn’t about to let the journalists shape my destiny. “Dmitry, wear some old clothes tomorrow and bring some paint brushes with you. We start by sorting this place out, tidy office tidy mind.” I was on a roll now, grabbing my jacket I headed for the door. “I’m going to find my language teacher. Double... no triple lessons from here on.”

 

[nilelg5]

oooo i like this story 8-|

 

[Pompey_Dan]

Until now I've used 'likes' to show my appreciation for comments left. But I would just like to say thanks to everyone who has been following this and I hope you are enjoying it. Please continue to read the updates as your support is very much appreciated.

---------- Post added at 06:27 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 10:11 PM ----------

A BAD BREAK​

Turin, 5th February 2017 and Juventus are playing Roma in a Serie A match. As Mirko Vucinic’s left leg bent backwards under the weight of the goalkeeper’s body he let out a scream. The pain was excruciating and it seemed to travel up the entire length of his body. Seconds later the medics were crowded around him, he could just about make out their figures through the white lights that danced in his vision. He heard one of them say “pessimo,” as if he needed any confirmation that the diagnosis was not good.

One of the medics moved his injured leg as they attempted to strap the limb and get Mirko on to a stretcher, the pain made him feel sick. He retched as the bile rose in his throat and he spat onto the turf.

«««««​

That evening in his private hospital room Vucinic cursed his luck. He had already missed a large part of the season with a back strain and damaged knee ligaments and now he was likely to be out for 5 or 6 months, if the injury didn’t end his playing days altogether that is. Mirko was thirty-four years old and in the twilight of his career, the break had been bad enough to cause him to ask whether he could play at the top level again. When questioned, the doctor had been non-committal in his reply and this had done nothing to ease Mirko’s concerns.
In two days time he was due to join up with the Montenegro squad for a friendly in Belgium, instead Mirko would be laid up in this hospital room feeling sorry for himself. In sixteen months time the World Cup in Spain would begin, Mirko didn't know if Montenegro would qualify but what he did know was that a World Cup appearance had never seemed so far away as it did right now.

 

[pistolped7]

Oh, no, mate, that's ****! Hope you can do well enough without him.

 

[fuelledbypassion]

gutted! hopefully he can make it back for the finals when you get there

 

[Joss]

:'( Poor guy.. pretty **** for you too, arguably your best player alongside Jovetic and he can't play for 6 months. Great few updates though Dan, delighted this is back and in full swing

 

[Pompey_Dan]

WEDNESDAY 08/02/2017​

Just four months ago I had been questioning my commitment to managing Montenegro, the press had not been particularly supportive during the first year of my tenure and I had seriously considered walking away from the role. Dmitry had helped me through this "crisis of faith,” as he called it, and now my resolve to take Montenegro to the World Cup was stronger than ever. My Serbian had improved greatly too, the extra lessons had paid dividends and now I was able to hold my team-talks and press conferences without the need for an interpreter.

Today the team were in Brussels to play a friendly game against a powerful Belgian side. I had hoped that the match would mark the return of Mirko Vucinic but a terrible injury had put paid to that.

There were a few nerves in the dressing room before kick-off. This was to be expected, we were facing a team that beat England 2-0 in their last match. One player was especially anxious, Srdjan Nikolic was collecting a first cap today. As the team exited the tunnel I spotted him looking down at his feet. Taking hold of Srdjan’s arm I pulled him aside, “Why are you looking at the ground son? Look up there,” I said pointing at the night sky, “up there are the stars. Always keep your head up, always look to the stars.”
Srdjan didn’t reply but he smiled, puffed out his chest out and ran on to pitch to join his team mates with his head held high.

The game finished goalless but it wasn’t devoid of entertainment. As expected, Belgium were the more assertive side but my Montenegro charges didn’t show themselves up. Our best chance of the match came when new boy Srdjan Nikolic forced the Belgian goalkeeper to make a fingertip save.

In a month’s time world cup qualifying would start again, six games that would decide all our futures.

---------- Post added at 04:21 PM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 10:03 PM ----------

WEDNESDAY 22/03/2017​

Montenegro’s assistant manager Dmitry Los’kov had to admit this Northern Ireland side were far better than he had expected them to be. Their number seven, Chris Brunt, had caused Montenegro a few anxious moments cutting inside from the left wing. It was his goal, a thundering shot from outside the area, that had brought the scores level with just eight minutes remaining.

“Come on lads,” shouted Dmitry from the touchline. Glancing back toward the dugout he could see the concern on the manager’s face. Having drawn their opening games the team really needed to win this match, if they were to have a chance of making the World Cup finals that was.

At that moment Stevan Jovetic collected the ball near the halfway line, turning his marker he came inside and ran at the defence. Dmitry was worried that Jovetic hadn’t spotted Simon Vukcevic making a run into the penalty area on his left, but at the last possible moment the Fiorentina star played his team-mate in with a beautifully weighted pass. Vukcevic made no mistake with his shot, from close range he lifted the ball over the ‘keeper and it came crashing back off the cross bar into the goal.

The manager jumped from up his seat and flung his arms around Dmitry. There was no doubt both men were mightily relived, not that either of them would admit this later. In the post-match press conference Dan Lake would talk about his unshakeable belief in the players, while Dmitry would be in the bar of the function room telling of his certainty that they would win the game.

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ej1hLc9Kd1I"]Highlights - Montenegro v N. Ireland[/ame]​

(for besult viewing results watch in 720hp HD)​

 

[fuelledbypassion]

another great update. Good to see Jovetic stepping up in vucinic's absence

 

[Pompey_Dan]

WEDNESDAY 07/06/2017​

My team were making hard work of qualifying, after a drab 0-0 draw in Reykjavik we were currently in a similar position at half-time against the hard working Scots. Against my better nature, I had let my assistant Dmitry talk me into playing a defensive game. We had set up the team in a 4-5-1 formation, the idea was to crowd the midfield but instead we had sacrificed the attacking runs of our fullbacks and left our lone centre forward isolated. Dmitry’s drinking had gotten worse and I was now concerned that this was affecting his judgement.

I had considered switching things at the break but choose not to, hoping that we would catch our opponents on the counter-attack. As the second half got underway I began to rue this decision, my players saw little of the ball and it was only a matter of time before Scotland got a goal.

The winning goal came in the 58th minute, Paul Dixon sent a looping cross into our penalty area and Barry Walker beat Stefan Savic to the ball. I was livid, the players’ heads dropped and I could see that there was no way back into the game.

As the final whistle sounded I turned to my assistant manager. He had been quiet throughout the game perhaps sensing my rising anger or, more likely, nursing a hangover. “Next time we don’t worry about the opposition Dmitry,” I told him sternly, “next time we let the opposition worry about us. Let attack be our defence.”

As I walked back toward the dressing room my thoughts turned toward Friday’s newspaper interview. “The press are going to crucify me” I whispered to myself.

 

[Joss]

Nice udpate Dan, though shocking results.. should've beaten both teams no?

 

[Deleted member 79730]

This is world class, seriously unbelievable. I wish i had as much work ethic as you.

 

[casey32]

Love the videos

 

[Pompey_Dan]

THE INTERVIEW​

Journalist Damjan Andric had not been looking forward to this day. He was driving to the headquarters of the Montenegro FA where he would interview the national manager for the newspaper “Dan.”

That morning Damjan had argued with his girlfriend, Adrijana, and it now weighed heavily on his conscience. He had been complaining about the assignment and lamenting his lack of faith in the manager when she had asked him why he was being so negative. “Do you not want the team to reach the World Cup?” she had questioned.
Regretfully, he had called her stupid. He had dismissed her opinion because he knew more about football than she did. But now, alone in his car, Damjan was considering whether she had a point. Maybe he was pessimistic about the team’s chances to protect himself, because disappointment follows false hope as surely as night follows day?

««««««​

On his arrival the Montenegro manager was waiting for Damjan in the lobby and greeted him warmly. “Had this man actually read any of my articles?” he thought.
Entering Lake’s office Damjan was surprised at how small it was, although it was recently decorated which was in stark contrast to the rest of the building. Gesturing to a seat opposite him, Lake sat behind a desk and took a bottle of vodka and two glasses from a drawer.

The two men talked football for almost two hours, discussing the European Cup winning Red Star Belgrade team of 1991 and the merits of various former players from Yugoslavia, Serbia and Montenegro. Lake's Serbian was much improved and he handled the language eloquently. Damjan was surprised that he had been so comfortable in the presence of a man that, just 24 hours ago, he had considered so objectionable.
“Perhaps, we should get on with the interview soon?” smiled Lake. “If we wait much longer we’ll miss tomorrow’s edition!”

««««««​

Lake answered Damjan’s questions honestly and intelligently. Yes he did believe that Montenegro could reach their first World Cup, but only if they stopped living in the shadows of their more successful neighbours, Serbia, and realised their true potential. He was excited by the talent that was available to him, and spoke of the players as a proud father would speak of his children. Of the defeat against Scotland, Lake admitted that he had got his tactics wrong and promised that the side would be more attack minded in future fixtures.

Before long Damjan had enough copy to take back to his editor. Standing up he offered Lake a handshake, “I look forward to meeting with you again... at the World Cup perhaps?”
What was happening? Was Damjan really being optimistic?
“I hope that we can meet before then my friend,” replied Lake, “In fact, why don’t you come along to our next training session? You could talk to some of the players.”
Damjan paused, unsure if Lake was being serious. It was unheard of for the press to be given such access to the national team before an important match.
“Err... yes... yes, that would be very good... thank you!” He stammered.

 

[fuelledbypassion]

I'm loving this mate. I can't believe how often you update too, great stuff