sherm Posted October 17, 2009 Share Posted October 17, 2009 I remember the day that I realised I was going to make it as a footballer – I had been unsure over the years, having highs and lows, as I’m sure any professional will tell you that they have. This was only the fifth game of the 1981/82 season, and after a win, two draws and a defeat, we were mid-table. Crystal Palace had come to White Hart Lane, and due to our severe injury crisis, I had to drop from my usual central midfield role to play in the centre of defence. The one thing I never had an abundance of was pace, being almost 16 and a half stone, but I never lost a battle, and I won the majority of battles of strength with players Palace had started well, winning three of their four games, thanks mainly to seven goals from striker Ryan Conway. However, in this game, he didn’t get a sniff. I was, and please don’t think I’m being big-headed here, but I did play brilliantly, cutting out everything, having the little fellow in my pocket, and earning myself a man of the match award. It also confirmed that centre back was where my future lay, and over the next 12 years, until my 1993 retirement, it was where I spent my playing days. 345 games for Spurs, before a shock move (at least for me anyway) to Barcelona, where I played another 201 games. I earnt 76 caps for England, wearing the captains armband for 44 of them, and all in all, I enjoyed a glittering career – until one incident in the summer of 1996 almost destroyed my life… -- I headed down the dimly lit corridor, scanning the pictures on the walls, rattling my brains as to how I ended up here. It had been a crazy four days, since I was picked up outside Longmarsh Prison by a long black limousine. The window had rolled down and a gruff voice told me to ‘get in the back’ – something that sounded more like an order than a request, and one I duly obeyed As I got in the back, I was struck by the sheer size of the thing. It was the size of a LandRover, and that was just the back of the car. I found myself opposite a gentlemen who was a few years older than myself, but he obviously had fashion sense. His suit was a perfect fit, and he sat sipping champagne from a chilled glass “Mr Meehan I presume?” He had a distinctive French twang in his voice, although his English was very good “Yes. But call me Danny” “Danny? Very well. My name is Jean-Michael Gatard, and I am a, how would you say…representative of Paris Saint Germain football club” “P.S.G? So what does that have to do with me?” “Well, you had a great career as a player did you not?” And, if I do say so, it is my influence that secured you an early release” “What? You mean, you…you paid my bail money?” “Why of course. You are innocent are you not? I also have my own, personal motives in your release” “What do you mean ‘personal motives’?” “Well, I need a manager for my team, and due to unfortunate circumstances, nobody of note will take the job – therefore, I feel like you owe me a favour Mr Meehan” I sighed, although I couldn’t help but smirk. This was going to be a bizarre time… --- *For those interested, this a story based on a film - I have changed certain clips, but if you have seen the film, certain things are similar. Hopefully, it will be as enjoyable as the film... Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
coldkohmew Posted November 1, 2009 Share Posted November 1, 2009 hope it continues... Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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