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The Yellow Danger


Sep 17, 2005
Hello everyone,

It has been some time since I put my writing skills to the test on this forum & I’ve been contemplating a new story for quite some time. What better time to go for it than now, after the release of the new game, giving myself amble time to get used to the new match engine. As always, I am in no way an expert at writing and may on occasion make spelling or grammatical errors. If you notice them, feel free to tell me. I also love hearing both positive and constructive feedback as it helps me learn from any mistakes I might be making.


I am playing FM2013 version 13.1.3 with the major European leagues, Scandinavia and of course Scotland.
All characters and their personalities are fictional, based fully on the voices in my head or are based on the way the game plays out.

* * *​

“With us it ain’t like that. We got a future. We got somebody to talk to that gives a **** about us. We don’t have to sit in no bar room blown’ in our jack jus’ because we got no....”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me?” Tapping the back of his new Kindle in vain, hoping to bring his favorite book, ‘Of Mice & Men’ back to life.

“Buy a Kindle she said, plenty of storage she said, no more carrying around books she said! No mention of charging the darn thing!”

Five years after their divorce, he still takes her advice as gospel. What clothes he should buy, where he should buy them, how to wear them & what aftershave to buy. Looking the part was never his strong point. He enjoyed how excited his wife would get when they went shopping, the look on her face when he exited the fitting rooms, knowing she had chosen well.

“My beautiful stylist! Where would I be without you, eh?” – Kissing her on the top of her head, smiling happily.

His heart skips as a bump of turbulence brings him back to reality.

“What good are happy memories when looking back brings nothing but pain and anguish”?

Ever since Beth Durfee got together with her new boyfriend ‘Howard’ he saw less and less of her. Now what brief conversations they did have, are via text message. The untouched vodka and orange is soon gone in a matter of seconds.

Another bump of turbulence. “God I hate flying”

“Ladies and gentleman, the captain has turned on the ‘fasten the seatbelt’ sign and we are now approaching our decent into Copenhagen. The local time is 17:26pm if you need to adjust your watch and the local temperature is 2 degrees Celsius. We will be landing in under ten minutes. Thank you for flying British Airways and have a wonderful trip”.

Looking beyond the women sound asleep by the window, there is nothing but darkness and his own reflection. She awakes suddenly; taken aback by his presence she gives a reluctant smile and sits up right. Avoiding further discomfort, he amends the dial on his silver Cartier watch to the local time.

The plane lands and he avoids the general stampede out of the plane, instead bringing out his Nokia 5100 and sends a quick text...

“Just landed...AGAIN! x” however his journey was far from over.

* * *​


Nice Guy Gramps
Oct 23, 2009
Like the opening. I suspect I'm going to be following too many stories before long lol


Sep 17, 2005
* * *​

As he stood in the seemingly endless line at customs, he reflected on how only 48 hours ago, he was preparing for a night of training with Peterhead. As always on a Tuesday evening, he was the first to arrive and was already assembling the training equipment for the night ahead when his mobile phone began to vibrate in his jacket pocket.

“Hello!” he yelled. A particularly strong gale was blowing from the North Sea, making it difficult to speak, let alone hear.

“…William Halverson, How are you, sir?”

“Wha…What? Halverson, what do you want? I’ve not been sacked again have I? I’m already setting up over here and…”

“I’ve…you a job interview, Managerial vacancy”

“Well there’s a first time for everything!” He joked. “Where”?


At the arrivals desk, a balding but fair haired and obese customs official named Rune was checking his passport and asking the usual generic questions.

“Reason for visiting Denmark, sir”? His tone was robotic but authoritative.

“Job interview” He returned with an equally tedious tone. Two can play this game.

“Oh yeah, what trade?” He became inquisitive.

“Football manager” He smirked.

“That so? Can’t say I've heard of you” he exclaimed.

“No, I don’t imagine you would have. Never played in Denmark, wasn't very good anyway” he shrugged casually.

“Wait here” He demanded.

After a short time, a middle-aged women with an air of authority about her, approached the terminal with Rune. He was fatter than he looked from his booth. After a quick exchange of words, he stamped the passport and waved him through.

“Enjoy your visit in Copenhagen, Mr Cotner” he mumbled.

“As long as my potential employers are not like Rune, I might” he thought to himself.

The women had moved from the booth to greet him. “We apologise for the inconvenience Mr Cotner. You must be aware that it’s essential for us to exercise caution. “

“Please, Can you direct me to the nearest taxi rank? I’ve had an incredibly long day and a train to catch” he groaned.

“Of course sir, where are you heading?”

“Horsens” He began walking towards the exit, checking his Cartier watch again. “Wherever that is!”

* * *​