The Return of Dan's East European Adventure

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DAY OF RECKONING​

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Two months had passed since Dmitry had told me of his family's problems. His eldest son, Vitaly, was now being treated by the best psychiatric doctors in Russia and he was making good progress. There was even talk that he would embark on a sports pyshiotheraphy course at the Moscow State University, but only once he had made a full recovery.
Dmitry was also getrting help for his alcohol addiction and, to the best of my knowledge, he had been sober since that fateful day two months ago.​

Lately, all our attentions had been focussed on the forthcoming World Cup draw. Dmitry and I were due to be among the 60 or so managers and coaches attending the draw in Madrid in three days time. The Montenegro FA had wanted us to make the trip on the "red eye," travelling there and back all in the space of 24 hours. But I had taked them around, I had just secured them a place in football's premier competition after all!​

««««««​

As the waiter leaned forward to pour the bottle of very expensive wine I placed my hand over the glass and mouthed "no thank you." Out of respect to Dmitry I would not be drinking anything stronger than water tonight.
I looked across at my assistant and smiled. He had been writing on a FIFA branded notepad and now handed it to me across the table. On the top sheet he had written...​

Brazil
Ivory Coast
USA
Montenegro​

"I am glad you are sat next to me and not up there making the draw!" I laughed, although secretly I hoped that a big name would be drawn in our group. The chance to send your team out against the finest players in the world was what this competition was all about. Some famous names in international football had failed to qualify for the finals, however. Amongst those missing today were my home nation, and runners up in 2014, England. I wondered if some of the English fans would be tempted to switch alligiance during the World Cup, opting to back a Montenegro side with a fellow countryman at the helm.​

««««««​

A hush descended upon the room as the FIFA President, Michel platini, stood to introduce the draw. I was suddenly aware that hundreds of thousands of Montenegrin's were watching the events here unfold on the TV or internet. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.​



---------- Post added at 10:20 PM ---------- Previous post was at 08:54 PM ----------

WHAT ODDS A PLACE IN THE LAST SIXTEEN?
Article by Damjan Andric, 7th December 2017​

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A better chance of reaching the knock-out stages or robbed of the opportunity to stand shoulder to shoulder with the World’s best? Yesterday’s draw for the group stages of the 2018 World Cup has divided opinion among the Montenegro supporters. The team have been placed in Group F alongside Ghana, who overachieved to finish third in 2014, a hit and miss Ukraine side and probable whipping boys Saudi Arabia. Second place shouldn’t be beyond Montenegro, the reward for which would likely be a last sixteen tie with Italy.

After the draw manager Dan Lake was in ambivalent mood, “it would be nice to have a match against Brazil or Argentina to look forward to, but I am happy with the draw. We have to believe that we can progress from the group but there are never any easy games at this level.

Four years ago Ghana proved what they are capable of by reaching the semi-finals, whilst Ukraine were brilliant against a tough Belgian side in the play-offs. Even Saudi Arabia have enough about them to make life difficult.”

In truth Ukraine only qualified for the World Cup via the lottery of the play-offs after finishing second in their group behind Portugal. But their defence is solid (they only conceded 6 goals in 12 qualifying matches), and in 23 year old winger Dmytro Gerasymyuk they have a potential match winner.

Ghana meanwhile have the African Cup of Nations in January and could arrive in Spain fatigued. That said, there are goals in the team, if midfielders Kwadwo Asamoah and Daniel Osman can find the passes to unleash the lightening pace of striker Ransford Osei that is.

Montenegro may be newcomers to international tournaments but with players of quality such as Mirko Vucinic and Stevan Jovetic in the side who would bet against them progressing beyond the opening stages, not this Journalist that’s for sure.
 
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Great update again Dan. You've got to be happy with a relatively easy draw... last 16 shouldn't be a problem, then who knows?
 
THE ROAD TO ****​

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"What the **** is this?" I shouted, throwing the printed document onto the Chief Executive's desk.
"I think you'll find it is a memo detailing the squad's travel arrangements for the World Cup," he replied. "I'd also ask that you show a little more respect when addressing me in future."
"Respect?" I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Montenegro's first appearance at the World Cup was just four weeks away and this morning I had received a printed memo informing me that the players, and staff, would be making a large part of the journey to Spain by coach. The itinerary read:

June 7th, 06:00 - team fly from Podgorica to Paris, France (via Budapest), arriving at 12:00​
June 7th, 13:00 - coach departs Paris, travelling across the Pyrenees to Andorra and arriving at 21:30
June 9th, 15:00 - Montenegro play Andorra in a pre-tournament warm up match.
June 10th, 10:00 - team travel by coach to their training camp outside Valencia, arriving at 17:00
June 19th, 19:00 - Montenegro play Ghana in the Mestella Stadium, Valencia

The Chief Executive spoke. "The treasurer has looked into it and this has proved to be the most cost effective way to transport the team to the World Cup."
"I'm surprised that you aren't just going to herd us on to the back of a lorry like cattle. Answer me this, will it be so cost effective when the team are knocked out of the competition early because they are too tired?"
"Look here Dan, the decision has been made. As a result of the World Cup, air-fares to Spain in June are through the roof. We are a small nation and we simply don't have the funds to send everyone out by plane." He then added, by way of consolation, "I will be on the coach myself."
"Fantastic," I retorted sarcastically, "we can have a good old fashioned sing song then! Will you bring the boiled sweets or shall I?"
With that I turned on my heels and stormed out of the office, slamming the door as I left.

««««««​

We had left Paris by coach just as the itinerary had promised. The players were restless, a ridiculous eight and a half hour journey lay ahead of us and they had already endured a six hour flight. We were now making our way to the principality of Andorra, nestled in the Pyrenees mountain range to the north-east of Spain.
The Chief Executive of the Montenegrin FA was sat in the seat in front of me. The man was responsible for this shambolic schedule and as the coach had pulled away my angry eyes bore into the back of his head.

««««««​

Six hours later and the players were sleeping, listening to MP3 players or playing cards to alleviate the boredom. As we drove up and down roads that twisted and turned between the mountains I had to admit that the scenery really was breath-taking, but we weren't here on a sight-seeing tour. In little under 48 hours we would be playing a football match against the Andorran national side as a preparation to the World Cup ahead. I was seriously worried that the players would be tired which could lead to unwelcome injuries. I decided to go and talk to some of the players, in the hope that I could limit the damage the FA's penny-pinching may have on their morale.

As I stood up the coach suddenly lurched to the right. A truck, no doubt driven by one of the arrogant locals, had come at us with speed causing our driver to take evasive action. The coach driver was yelling expletives as he wrestled to regain control of the steering wheel, but it was too late. One of the coach's front wheels had left the road and the whole vehicle was now sliding down a steep slope. We were brought to an abrupt stop as the coach hit a tree and fell on to its side. Shattered glass flew everywhere as I was thrown forward, striking my head on an arm-rest. The last thing I remember hearing as I slipped out of consciousness was the screams of shock and terror that came from my players.

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woah! was not expecting that...an Italian Job - esque cliffhanger! |) Itching to see the next installment now dan
 
Expected it when i saw the coach tbh! Could have left it for the next update? Real cliff-hanger there though! One more thing, i would have preferred the bit about the crash to be "starred off" again.. Just because it's all calm and as i read it there was no action in my voice if you know what i mean.. Very much knit picking as its a great update but maybe just make the last bit stand out more, more excitement etc.

:)
 
MOUNTAIN RESCUE​

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Journalist Damjan Andric had agreed to ghost write the world cup diaries of Montenegro manager Dan Lake. Damjan was employed by Montenegro’s leading newspaper “Dan” and, seizing on the opportunity to later serialize extracts from the book, the editor had permitted him a short sabbatical to complete the project.

After hearing of the team’s bizarre travel arrangements heading into the tournament Damjan had decided to hire a car in Paris and follow the team coach down through the Pyrenees to Andorra. He was enjoying the tranquillity of the mountain drive in glorious June sunshine. The serenity of the moment was suddenly interrupted when a battered pickup truck laden with crates of live chickens shot past him, leaving a cloud of exhaust fumes and feathers in its wake. The road was narrow and Damjan had to brake hard to avoid a collision with the onrushing vehicle. “Dangerous idiot,” thought the reporter.

Damjan restarted the stalled car and continued on his way, but as he turned the next corner he was shocked by the spectacle before him. The roadside barrier had been damaged and some twenty to thirty metres below lay the wreckage of the Montenegro national team’s coach. The journalist screeched to a halt, swung open the car door and ran to the twisted metal barrier. Looking down he surveyed the chilling scene below. The coach lay on its side with its wheels still spinning, the windows were smashed and the front cabin had crumpled in on itself. Some of the players and staff were climbing from the wrecked motor vehicle and, compelled by the desire to help his injured countrymen, Damjan scrambled down the steep slope. As he reached the bottom he could see striker Mirko Vucinic walking toward him. The player had a cut on his forehead and was nursing an injured wrist. “Thank god, our star player is alright.” Thought Damjan, immediately blushing at the selfishness of his reaction.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked.
“I... I... don’t know,” replied Vucinic understandably dazed and confused state.
Damjan rushed over to the coach, as he got closer he could better see the drivers cabin and at once he knew the crash had claimed at least one fatality. Pushing the thought aside, the reporter called the French emergency services on his mobile phone.

Once Damjan was assured that help was being dispatched he climbed onto the vehicle’s upturned side and began helping the passengers through the broken windows. After a matter of minutes, that seemed to take a lifetime, everybody had been removed from the wreckage. Remarkably, there appeared to be no major injuries. Manager Dan Lake had been knocked unconscious during the accident and one of the phsyio’s had broken his leg but, in truth, they were all lucky to be alive.

Lake was now on his feet and, gaining some composure, as his eyes fell on the Montenegro FA’s Chief Executive a red mist descended. He leapt at the official grabbing at the lapels of his torn suit. “This is your fault, you nearly killed us you idiot!” he screamed swinging an attempted punch at his employer. Damjan ran across to the manager and took hold of Lake’s arms so as to constrain him.

During the commotion Dmitry Los’kov, the assistant manager, had moved around to the front of the wreck and stumbling back he began to sob uncontrollably. “Th... the driver is d... dead!” he exclaimed.
Everyone stopped what they were doing, as the reality of Los’kov’s statement sunk in and put events into horrifying perspective. At that moment the sound of approaching sirens pierced the crisp mountain air.

---------- Post added at 02:56 PM ---------- Previous post was at 02:53 PM ----------

A RETURN TO FOOTBALL​

More than 24 hours after the accident in the Pyrenees, the players and staff were released from hospital. With the exception of their French driver, miraculously, nobody had suffered any major injuries. Petar the phsyio had broken his left leg and Mirko Vucinic’s hand was heavily bandaged, but the other players were nursing nothing more serious than a few cuts and bruises. The doctors had tried to get me to stay overnight so that they could monitor my concussion but I had stubbornly refused. After we had arrived in our Andorran base the staff had unanimously voted to go ahead with the friendly match, and it was hastily re-arranged for the next day. I had to admire the spirit that this bunch of lads possessed, they had stared death in the face and it had done nothing to dampen their desire to perform at the World Cup finals. Then my thoughts turned to our driver and the family he left behind, my mood darkened. Jean-Jacques Renard had been just 29 years old, younger than some of the players themselves, and his young wife had given birth to a son just three months before the accident. I wished I could do more for his widow and child but I knew that any attempted gesture would be futile. That night I cried myself to sleep.

««««««​

The day of the game against Andorra came and we put out a team wary that, no matter how determined the players appeared, the trauma of recent events must still haunt them.
The Andorran players showed our team a great deal of respect and it took Mirko Vucinic only two minutes to take advantage of their largesse and score the opening goal. As he spun away to celebrate the strike, his bandaged hand held aloft, I was reminded of English striker Gary Lineker during the 1986 World Cup. Lineker went on to claim the golden boot as the tournament’s top scorer, I would be extremely happy if Mirko could go on to emulate one of my personal heroes this summer.

Montenegro led Andorra 5-0 at half-time and I instigated a number of changes, insuring the players’ fitness for the main event as much as possible. The second half was played at a far gentler pace and there were no further goals.

««««««​

That night Dmitry and I exchanged thoughts on the team that would start the World Cup against Ghana, and the formation that we would employ. We were just ten days away from our opening match now and the reality of the situation was sinking in. For most Montenegrin’s the fact that their national team was representing them at their first World Cup was enough in itself, but Dmitry and I had decided that anything less than a place in the last sixteen would constitute a failure.


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Very good update Dan, plenty of detail without veering too far away from the matter at hand. Good, if comfortable result agaisnt Andorra. Following as always (Had to search it this time, not in Recent Threads list..Lee!::@
 
looking forward to seeing how you get on in the world cup dan. Loving your writing mate
 
Will you be continuing this when the blog system and new game are out? Or will you finish after the World Cup?
 
fuelledbypassion said:
Will you be continuing this when the blog system and new game are out? Or will you finish after the World Cup?
Click to expand...

I did have some ideas about how to carry this on into FM2011 but, to be honest, I'm not liking the sound of this new "blog" system. :S

I'll probably wait to take a closer look at the blog idea before deciding, if I like it and think I'll get a few followers then I'll carry on here, otherwise end it or take it to another site.
 
Pompey_Dan said:
I did have some ideas about how to carry this on into FM2011 but, to be honest, I'm not liking the sound of this new "blog" system. :S

I'll probably wait to take a closer look at the blog idea before deciding, if I like it and think I'll get a few followers then I'll carry on here, otherwise end it or take it to another site.
Click to expand...

If you were to choose to start a new story (as I may well end up doing) I would very much like to follow it. I will probably just spend a few months getting to grips with the new game and, as you said, take a break from story writing
 
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Ghost written by Damjan Andric​



11th June 2018
For the duration of the World Cup the Montenegro team would be based just outside Madrid. Arriving at the hotel it was evident that the FA’s choice of accommodation had been influenced by their financial restraint. On the bright side, the modest rooms were comfortable enough, if a little basic, and the hotel was only a short walk from the training complex.

If I had been underwhelmed by the choice of hotel then all was quickly forgotten when I set eyes upon the training facilities. La Polideportivo Emilio Butragueño, named after the legendary Real Madrid and Spain striker, had been built specifically for the 2018 World Cup. The amenities were far superior to anything that we had to offer back in Montenegro, with every piece of equipment the modern athlete could need at our disposal. Bizarrely, there was more comfort on offer in the Centre’s treatment room than in our hotel rooms. I just hoped that the players wouldn’t be encouraged to get injured and earn themselves an ‘upgrade!’

The team’s first training session at the Butragueno Complex was held in the afternoon, and with it our first opportunity to sample the new World Cup ball, “La Furia” (The Fury). It was an open session and one hundred or so locals had come to watch the team practice their drills. The crowd must have wondered if this bunch of lads from Eastern Europe had even seen a football before, let alone played the game professionally, as ball after ball was struck toward the heavens or ballooned into the neighbouring car-park.

If the hype was to be believed then the Furia ball was as close to a perfect sphere as modern manufacturing techniques would allow. The designers also promised that the ball had been “tested to ensure the truest flight of any football in history” and was “responsive to the subtlest of player touches.”
By the end of the training session the players certainly weren’t convinced by the manufacturers’ boasts and it was clear that they would need as much time as possible with the new ball before the first game. If they didn’t then the ball boys could have a very busy time ahead of them!

««««««​


15th June 2018
I had tried, but failed, to get tickets for the tournament’s opening game. Instead Dmitry and I decided to join in the festivities at one of Madrid’s fan-zones, inner city areas given over to supporters eating, drinking and watching the World Cup. The players would follow the match on TV back at the hotel with one or two beers, but they would be under the watchful eye of first team coach Darko Mandic.

There was a heavy corporate presence at the fan-zone, all the vendors having been pre-approved by FIFA, but this seemed to have little effect on the colourfully dressed spectators who had gathered to watch Spain play Russia on the giant TV screen.

The air was filled with the delicious aroma of tapas and the sound of raucous singing. Dmitry and I had intended to discreetly blend in with the crowd but two Russian fans, with painted faces, recognised us and called over. Andrei and Filipp both hailed from Kazan and were lifelong Rubin supporters, a club I had previously managed. They were a very affable pair and we chatted, happily answering their many questions.
“Who was the best player we had coached at the club?”
“Why had we sold Andrei Arshavin?”
“Did the mob really threaten our families?”
As the TV station cut to an advertisement our new found friends insisted that we sat with them and watched the game.

Spain dominated the early exchanges but didn’t score the opening goal until the 33rd minute of the first half. Defender Alexandr Denisov hesitated and Esteban Ganero robbed him of the ball before drilling it past the goalkeeper. Just three minutes later Spain were 2-0 up courtesy of a Raul Albiol header from a corner and, in the second half, Barcelona striker Jesus Alfonso added a third to round off an impressive 3-0 win.
Dmitry was animated throughout the ninety minutes, bemoaning the referee’s supposed favouritism of the home nation or complaining about the tournament ball. As we said our goodbyes to Andrei and Filipp they promised to back Montenegro against Ghana on Tuesday night. In the taxi on the way back to the hotel, Dmitry and I excitedly discussed the evenings match. The World Cup had started and we could hardly believe that, in a matter of days, we would be creating a little piece of history!

««««««​


19th June 2018
Yesterday afternoon’s closed training session had gone very well. We had worked on some new set piece routines and the players’ composure with the Furia ball was improving greatly. Today Montenegro would face Ghana in what would be the nation’s first ever World Cup match. The team’s near death experience in the Pyrenees had served to unite us and confidence was high amongst the players. As we disembarked the coach at the Capital’s Vicente Calderon stadium there was much smiling and joking, therefore, I was ill prepared for the scene that awaited us when I opened the changing room door. There in the middle of the floor, in a circle crudely drawn in blood, was the beheaded torso of a chicken!

FIFA had boasted how security at the 2018 tournament was tighter than ever before, so I asked the guard stationed outside the door if he had seen anyone enter. He said he had not and I walked back into the changing room perplexed. Talk between the players had turned to black magic, witchdoctors and “Juju.”

The mess was quickly cleared away and I tried to focus the team on the task in hand, but as the players walked out on to the pitch I had to wonder how they would perform believing that some sort of hex had been placed on them.
 
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Hahaha, brilliant update Dan. One of my favourites i reckon, nice idea with the ghost diary, and nice little reminder of what has happened with the fans and the crash etc. VM me when you next update? Bulgarian story will be updated tomorrow night i expect, then more regularly than it has been! Make sure you check it out, or i'll VM you or something...

Good luck against Ghana (Not that you need it, unless they get stage fright :S)
 
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