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[FM 17] If You’re Not First, You’re Last Redux – Redemption For The “Nearly Men” Of Europe


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75th minute...Scotland holding steady...15 minutes from glory...LESS THAN 10 MINUTES...

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IT'S NOW OR NEVER FOR PORTUGAL!!!  THEY NEED TO DIG DEEP!!!

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1 minute ago, Fer Fuchs Ake said:

Absolutely cruising. The Portuguese are getting rolled over. 

#UpTheScots

DON'T JINX IT!!!!!

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AND THAT'S THE MATCH!!! SCOTLAND HAVE DONE IT!!!  BEYOND HITTING THE POST IN THE FIRST MINUTE, AND SEVERAL EARLY CHANCES, PORTUGAL WERE UTTERLY INCAPABLE OF TESTING MCLAREN IN THE SCOTTISH GOAL!!!

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6 minutes ago, Benjoe said:

Exclusive clip of @noikeee trying to evade the arena after invading the pitch trying to stab Hakan with a fork. 

Image result for fleeing gif

 

Given how that match was going, my plan was actually to try to get all 11 Scottish players and even then I'm not sure we'd have much of a chance.

Congratulations Scotland. *sobs* :(

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Just now, noikeee said:

Given how that match was going, my plan was actually to try to get all 11 Scottish players and even then I'm not sure we'd have much of a chance.

You're probably right.

Image result for yikes gif

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Break on through to the other side... Break on through to the other side...

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Scotland

Japan 2058 -- World Cup Recap

I'm all out of words.  Holy ****.  

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Challenge Overview

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Thank you, @Benjoe, @BoxToBox, @Fer Fuchs Ake, @noikeee, and @Keano16 -- glad to have you for the live match-updates!

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Sky Sports is asking the REAL question, though... The $1 million question... Where does Telleus go from here?!?  11 Champions League titles, 4 World Cups...

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What final challenge awaits?!?!?!

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the end finish the simpsons reaction season 10 GIF

Part 1; The Departure.

Leaving Japan, the entire squad, wives, girlfriends, family, coaching and support staff and assorted hangers-on (aka Leto) are elated.  An incredible triumph.  The culmination of years of hard work.

I know that the time has come to move on.  Holding Emma’s hand, no words need be spoken.

Mid-flight, I wander back to check in on the lads playing a raucous FIFA tournament. 

Ludwig nods wisely at me, knowing our time with Scotland has come to an end.  Promises made, promises kept.

It kills me holding information back from him, but I need to play my cards this close to the vest.  He’s my closest friend.  He trusts me implicitly, after all we’ve been through.

I wish I could just tell him everything.  The full story.  What's next.

I can’t.

While Apples has gone quiet these past few weeks, she could have eyes and ears anywhere.  I can't leave anything to chance, even if it means keeping my closest friend in the dark.

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Part 2; The Arrival.

The security presence upon landing in Scotland is immense, but nothing can restrain the joy of this nation.

Years of success have led to hopes that dare not be spoken aloud, in fear of making it too real…and in fear that, once spoken, they’ll be forever denied. 

My nerves are raw throughout the open-top bus parade to Hampden.  Every noise, every bump in the road, a new terror…tempered only by the unbridled joy of the thronging masses.  A national party is just beginning, to put all others before it to shame. 

I wish I could share in the joy.  But I fear that Apples has planned something.  That she intends to make a statement, in the one place she knows she can find me given all of the wild rumors in the papers about my next destination.  Will it be Rennes?  Madrid?  Back to Germany?  Dare Malmo dream of a return?

Little does she know that I’ve planted most of those rumors.

I’ve promised to meet Emma at the private airfield soon.  No one knows, beyond the two of us and our security detail.

We leave Scotland tonight.  I haven’t even told the pilots where we’re going.

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4 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Part 2; The Arrival.

The security presence upon landing in Scotland is immense, but nothing can restrain the joy of this nation.

Years of success have led to hopes that dare not be spoken aloud, in fear of making it too real…and in fear that, once spoken, they’ll be forever denied. 

My nerves are raw throughout the open-top bus parade to Hampden.  Every noise, every bump in the road, a new terror…tempered only by the unbridled joy of the thronging masses.  A national party is just beginning, to put all others before it to shame. 

I wish I could share in the joy.  But I fear that Apples has planned something.  That she intends to make a statement, in the one place she knows she can find me given all of the wild rumors in the papers about my next destination.  Will it be Rennes?  Madrid?  Back to Germany?  Dare Malmo dream of a return?

Little does she know that I’ve planted most of those rumors.

I’ve promised to meet Emma at the private airfield soon.  No one knows, beyond the two of us and our security detail.

We leave Scotland tonight.  I haven’t even told the pilots where we’re going.

Telleus to Leto-Gorets confirmed.

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Part 3; The End.

The revelry continues throughout the nation, as a black towncar pulls into the private airfield outside Falkirk shortly before dawn.

Inside, Hakan Telleus sits with his long-time, trusted confidant, Ludwig Hammar.  The engine idles softly in the quiet night.

Telleus tried to keep Hammar away, but Hammar insisted on coming along, leaving Jared Leto to MC the official party back at the FA. 

Telleus checks his watch and, seeing that he’s right on time, nods to Hammar. “See you on the other side, brother.” 

They shake hands, Hammar wishing Telleus a good flight.  Telleus unexpectedly pulls Hammar into a hug.  They’ve never been ones to stand on ceremony or engage in overly-public displays of brotherly affection.  But tonight seems different.  A long journey behind them, one last adventure ahead...

Another black towncar pulls into the lot as Hammar pulls away, both men chuckling warmly.  Hammar nods respectfully to Emma Watson as she approaches.

Telleus nervously checks his watch.

Hammar gives Emma a brotherly hug, and makes her promise to keep an eye on Telleus for him.

“It’s time, Ludwig.  We need to get going.”

One final handshake.  A promise to talk soon.

Hand in hand, Watson and Telleus walk towards the still-closed hangar.  Hammar watches, smiling contently.  He knows it when he sees it.  His brother is happy.  Content with his lot in life.

The door closes behind Watson and Telleus.  With nothing left to see, Hammar opens the door to the towncar, asking the driver to take him back to the party.

As the sun crests the horizon, the world erupts in flame, a concussive wave shattering the windows of the towncar. 

The minutes pass like hours.  Hammar finds himself on the ground.  Bloodied.  On his knees.  Aghast. 

What little remains of the hanger has been torn asunder.  The heat of the raging fire pushing him back to his feet, forcing him to withdraw to safety.

The sirens approach, but Hammar knows it is too late.  

There’s no hope.  The world as he knows it has ended.

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In a shock move, Telleus moves to an unknown club in Swaziland, in an attempt to finish what Nelson Mandela Jr. had started 40 years ago...

Or maybe just Sheikh Russel, where Telleus' first plan of action is a revolution in graphical design...

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4 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Part 3; The End.

The revelry continues throughout the nation, as a black towncar pulls into the private airfield outside Falkirk shortly before dawn.

Inside, Hakan Telleus sits with his long-time, trusted confidant, Ludwig Hammar.  The engine idles softly in the quiet night.

Telleus tried to keep Hammar away, but Hammar insisted on coming along, leaving Jared Leto to MC the official party back at the FA. 

Telleus checks his watch and, seeing that he’s right on time, nods to Hammar. “See you on the other side, brother.” 

They shake hands, Hammar wishing Telleus a good flight.  Telleus unexpectedly pulls Hammar into a hug.  They’ve never been ones to stand on ceremony or engage in overly-public displays of brotherly affection.  But tonight seems different.  A long journey behind them, one last adventure ahead...

Another black towncar pulls into the lot as Hammar pulls away, both men chuckling warmly.  Hammar nods respectfully to Emma Watson as she approaches.

Telleus nervously checks his watch.

Hammar gives Emma a brotherly hug, and makes her promise to keep an eye on Telleus for him.

“It’s time, Ludwig.  We need to get going.”

One final handshake.  A promise to talk soon.

Hand in hand, Watson and Telleus walk towards the still-closed hangar.  Hammar watches, smiling contently.  He knows it when he sees it.  His brother is happy.  Content with his lot in life.

The door closes behind Watson and Telleus.  With nothing left to see, Hammar opens the door to the towncar, asking the driver to take him back to the party.

As the sun crests the horizon, the world erupts in flame, a concussive wave shattering the windows of the towncar. 

The minutes pass like hours.  Hammar finds himself on the ground.  Bloodied.  On his knees.  Aghast. 

What little remains of the hanger has been torn asunder.  The heat of the raging fire pushing him back to his feet, forcing him to withdraw to safety.

The sirens approach, but Hammar knows it is too late.  

There’s no hope.  The world as he knows it has ended.

Holy ****. :eek:

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4 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Part 3; The End.

The revelry continues throughout the nation, as a black towncar pulls into the private airfield outside Falkirk shortly before dawn.

Inside, Hakan Telleus sits with his long-time, trusted confidant, Ludwig Hammar.  The engine idles softly in the quiet night.

Telleus tried to keep Hammar away, but Hammar insisted on coming along, leaving Jared Leto to MC the official party back at the FA. 

Telleus checks his watch and, seeing that he’s right on time, nods to Hammar. “See you on the other side, brother.” 

They shake hands, Hammar wishing Telleus a good flight.  Telleus unexpectedly pulls Hammar into a hug.  They’ve never been ones to stand on ceremony or engage in overly-public displays of brotherly affection.  But tonight seems different.  A long journey behind them, one last adventure ahead...

Another black towncar pulls into the lot as Hammar pulls away, both men chuckling warmly.  Hammar nods respectfully to Emma Watson as she approaches.

Telleus nervously checks his watch.

Hammar gives Emma a brotherly hug, and makes her promise to keep an eye on Telleus for him.

“It’s time, Ludwig.  We need to get going.”

One final handshake.  A promise to talk soon.

Hand in hand, Watson and Telleus walk towards the still-closed hangar.  Hammar watches, smiling contently.  He knows it when he sees it.  His brother is happy.  Content with his lot in life.

The door closes behind Watson and Telleus.  With nothing left to see, Hammar opens the door to the towncar, asking the driver to take him back to the party.

As the sun crests the horizon, the world erupts in flame, a concussive wave shattering the windows of the towncar. 

The minutes pass like hours.  Hammar finds himself on the ground.  Bloodied.  On his knees.  Aghast. 

What little remains of the hanger has been torn asunder.  The heat of the raging fire pushing him back to his feet, forcing him to withdraw to safety.

The sirens approach, but Hammar knows it is too late.  

There’s no hope.  The world as he knows it has ended.

Wow. Oh my God.

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Part 4; The Aftermath.

The memorial service in Malmo is modest.  By design.  Hammar would not allow for anything more.  Certainly nothing ostentatious.  Not too many people.  He knows that isn’t what Telleus would have wanted.

Nevertheless, even Hammar is taken aback at the arrival of Alicia Vikander, still recognizable.  She is not on the list, but he quickly waves to Tomas Zajicek near the security checkpoint, to let her in.  Hammar knows that Telleus always held a spot in his heart for her.  Yet, whe’s with a young man that seems…vaguely familiar…to Hammar and Zajicek alike, but neither can place it.

The ceremony is a celebration of life.  But, try as they might, those in attendance cannot ignore the pain wracking Vikander’s face.  The tears.  She is distraught, beyond comforting.

News pours in of vigils at various locations around Europe.  From Yorkshire to the Bosphorus to the Azteca.  Stade de Reims kits worn with authentic kilts.  Viking helmets on the masses at the Artemio Franchi, what some might call the heart of Apples’ power. 

On Ibiza, UrCristiano (as he has been re-christened) leads the faithful in a celebratory ritual oiling of the flesh in Telleus’ honor, only to inhale the pit of an olive and expire at the precise moment of release, his supplicants assuming that the asphyxiation would bring him closer to Himself.

Deep in the caves of Turkey, the news of UrCristiano’s demise at the moment the world celebrates Telleus’ ascension to the Heavens confounds Pope Bob, who searches for meaning in having lost The One at the nearly the same moment that the Oiled Beast was defeated.  Is this the beginning -- or end -- of the battle foretold by the prophets?

Law enforcement have yet to formally make any statement about the horrors in Falkirk, or name a suspect.  But one thing is clear.  There were only two victims.  The pilot and flight staff were tipped off by an anonymous caller, told that the flight had been cancelled.  From an untraceable burner phone.

There are few leads, only a healthy dose of suspicion.  The severe heat of the flames destroyed almost all evidence.  But, one suspect is clear to anyone reading the papers.  The mafiosa known to friend and foe as “Apples,” who has been in hiding since the fateful morning in Falkirk.  The question being whether anyone can prove it.

Telleus’ sons, Gustav and Linus, sit in quiet contemplation at the service in Malmo.  The wreckage of their family around them.  As Hammar wraps the twins in a bearhug, decisions are made. 

Hammar, for his part, is done with football and a life pursuing ephemeral glory.  He must return to his roots.  To Sweden.  To the music. 

Linus, ever the raging bull, is consumed by emotion.  A desire for vengeance.  A cold hatred.  And no outlet but the football pitch before him, which seems so meaningless now.  But, what other avenues does he have, beyond success, dedicated to the father and mother who, he hopes, are watching him from above?

Gustav, the more contemplative son, has withdrawn further into himself.  With “two left feet,” he knows his career as a footballer must come to an end.  Perhaps he can honor his father by following in his footsteps.  Doing his badges and putting in the long hours on the pitch, paying homage to his father's revolutionary tactics.

In another part of the room, however, a third young man sits and contemplates the meaning of life, as his mother wails beside him in anguish, beyond any comfort.  She feels the special pain of a life spent loving someone from afar, loving someone who longed for another – and it cuts her to the bone.  This young man, the third young man, thinks of his sheltered, wonderful childhood…the childhood without a father.  The father he never knew, and now never will.  The father who was taken that fateful morning in Falkirk.  The father his mother only told him about after he was gone.

After the ceremony, realization dawns on Hammar.  He races out the doors, trying to find Vikander and…who was that young man?

But, Hammar knows exactly where he’s seen the young man who was with Vikander.  On the terraces of Sweden.  Decades earlier.  This young man was nothing if not the spitting image of a young Hakan.

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10 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Part 3; The End.

The revelry continues throughout the nation, as a black towncar pulls into the private airfield outside Falkirk shortly before dawn.

Inside, Hakan Telleus sits with his long-time, trusted confidant, Ludwig Hammar.  The engine idles softly in the quiet night.

Telleus tried to keep Hammar away, but Hammar insisted on coming along, leaving Jared Leto to MC the official party back at the FA. 

Telleus checks his watch and, seeing that he’s right on time, nods to Hammar. “See you on the other side, brother.” 

They shake hands, Hammar wishing Telleus a good flight.  Telleus unexpectedly pulls Hammar into a hug.  They’ve never been ones to stand on ceremony or engage in overly-public displays of brotherly affection.  But tonight seems different.  A long journey behind them, one last adventure ahead...

Another black towncar pulls into the lot as Hammar pulls away, both men chuckling warmly.  Hammar nods respectfully to Emma Watson as she approaches.

Telleus nervously checks his watch.

Hammar gives Emma a brotherly hug, and makes her promise to keep an eye on Telleus for him.

“It’s time, Ludwig.  We need to get going.”

One final handshake.  A promise to talk soon.

Hand in hand, Watson and Telleus walk towards the still-closed hangar.  Hammar watches, smiling contently.  He knows it when he sees it.  His brother is happy.  Content with his lot in life.

The door closes behind Watson and Telleus.  With nothing left to see, Hammar opens the door to the towncar, asking the driver to take him back to the party.

As the sun crests the horizon, the world erupts in flame, a concussive wave shattering the windows of the towncar. 

The minutes pass like hours.  Hammar finds himself on the ground.  Bloodied.  On his knees.  Aghast. 

What little remains of the hanger has been torn asunder.  The heat of the raging fire pushing him back to his feet, forcing him to withdraw to safety.

The sirens approach, but Hammar knows it is too late.  

There’s no hope.  The world as he knows it has ended.

:eek:

Should have seen it coming, but... ****.

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Part 5; The End, Redux.

A light breeze wafts in from the ocean.  A clear, crisp day, on a remote island somewhere southeast of Fiji. 

A bowl of freshly-cut grapefruit sits on the table next to a carafe of freshly-brewed coffee, on a deck overlooking the water.

A familiar voice, calling from inside the palatial manse.  Another familiar voice, calling in response.

Monaco’s Ligue 1 season opener kicks off in mere minutes.  Linus’ first match since the World Cup, and the Svenska Dagblet promises news of Gustav's appointment at Degerfors.  They wouldn’t miss this for the world.  Even if they had to give up everything just to be together.

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3 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Part 5; The End, Redux.

A light breeze wafts in from the ocean.  A clear, crisp day, on a remote island somewhere southeast of Fiji. 

A bowl of freshly-cut grapefruit sits on the table next to a carafe of freshly-brewed coffee, on a deck overlooking the water.

A familiar voice, calling from inside the palatial manse.  Another familiar voice, calling in response.

Monaco’s Ligue 1 season opener kicks off in mere minutes.  Linus’ first match since the World Cup, and the Svenska Dagblet promises news of Gustav's appointment at Degerfors.  They wouldn’t miss this for the world.  Even if they had to give up everything just to be together.

Yes!!! There had to be something up his sleeve.

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Part 6; The Successor.

I couldn’t sleep last night.  The 8 cups of coffee I had for dinner probably didn’t help.  What?  Sometimes a man needs to have his coffee. 

To calm the nerves.  The media jackals are incredulous at my appointment.  Whispers of nepotism abound.

Not unfairly so.  But I’ve done my badges, even if my playing career was unremarkable.

And I have so much to prove.  To the media.  To the supporters.  To myself. 

To my father.  No.  That’s not right.  For my father. The man I never knew.

More to the point, I have something to prove to the half-brothers I’ve only just met...and awkwardly so, at that.  I don’t think they enjoyed learning about me, and were more than a bit bitter.  I get it. As if their lives weren’t already complicated enough. 

I am Gunnar Vikander, and the world shall know my name.

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4 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Part 6; The Successor.

I couldn’t sleep last night.  The 8 cups of coffee I had for dinner probably didn’t help.  What?  Sometimes a man needs to have his coffee. 

To calm the nerves.  The media jackals are incredulous at my appointment.  Whispers of nepotism abound.

Not unfairly so.  But I’ve done my badges, even if my playing career was unremarkable.

And I have so much to prove.  To the media.  To the supporters.  To myself. 

To my father.  No.  That’s not right.  For my father. The man I never knew.

More to the point, I have something to prove to the half-brothers I’ve only just met...and awkwardly so, at that.  I don’t think they enjoyed learning about me, and were more than a bit bitter.  I get it. As if their lives weren’t already complicated enough. 

I am Gunnar Vikander, and the world shall know my name.

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It's Gunnar be fun.

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RIP, Hakan.  You crazy bastard.

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As noted previously, however.  This is the save that never ends.

Hakan may be out of the picture.  But Linus and Gustav are still carrying the torch.  Neither was pleased to learn of their half-brother, who has for the first time in his life, found direction.  A purpose.  

His first badges in hand, Vikander is looking to complete others and enter the world of football management.  Surely, his lineage will encourage someone to take a flyer on him...

An intense rivalry brewing?  Perhaps...

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1 hour ago, Fer Fuchs Ake said:

Telleus to Leto-Gorets confirmed.

Brilliant! I'd upvote this 50 times if I could.

42 minutes ago, Rikulec said:

For how long have you had this planned?

For far, far too long.  Months and months.

30 minutes ago, Fer Fuchs Ake said:

It's Gunnar be fun.

:lol:

27 minutes ago, Benjoe said:

Absolutely beautiful!

:applause::applause::applause:

I'm talking about Alicia Vikander, btw. :D

 

You can say that again...

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Quick Champions League 2059 update...Rennes reach their 2nd straight final, only to lose a match they should have won, by all rights.

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Anderlecht and Sociedad looking sharp, too.

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It's rather epic, I had a feeling you'd kill him off though I didn't anticipate this successor - I had half a dream Toothless Bob fancied having a go at this management malarkey... or Barney the dinosaur.

Curious to see where Gunnar starts off his career!

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1 minute ago, Joe. said:

It's rather epic, I had a feeling you'd kill him off though I didn't anticipate this successor - I had half a dream Toothless Bob fancied having a go at this management malarkey... or Barney the dinosaur.

Curious to see where Gunnar starts off his career!

Thanks, man!  As much as I enjoy the perpetual insanity, percolating in the background, I don't think he (or one of the other, assorted characters) could be the lead/main manager.  

Never fear, you'll hear more from Pope Bob (as suggested in Part IV).  :D

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Wow! Completely unexpected ending... Scotland winning the World Cup :D

Oh, and Hakan going up in flames

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Sad as it was to see the demise of Hakan, the world awaits what drama Gunnar will bring

 

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11498_original.gif

What a career! And an equally enthralling ending! :applause:

Time for Gunnar to shine. On a side note, how did you get Gustav into management? The editor?

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18 minutes ago, DodgeeD said:

Wow! Completely unexpected ending... Scotland winning the World Cup :D

Oh, and Hakan going up in flames

tumblr_ntghwdwuce1suk0vmo1_400.gif

Sad as it was to see the demise of Hakan, the world awaits what drama Gunnar will bring

#HakanLives

:lol:

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5 minutes ago, Keano16 said:

11498_original.gif

What a career! And an equally enthralling ending! :applause:

Time for Gunnar to shine. On a side note, how did you get Gustav into management? The editor?

Thanks, man!

Yep. Editor - same way I made them as players. Otherwise, he'd have to eventually retire and make that decision on his own.

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33 minutes ago, ManUtd1 said:

Quick Champions League 2059 update...Rennes reach their 2nd straight final, only to lose a match they should have won, by all rights.

69c9635887e6aa3f1683c761723672f5.jpg 

3bd159a7e73f12e146171fda9d6cd24a.jpg 

Anderlecht and Sociedad looking sharp, too.

1 shot on target for Lyon :D

And it was a penalty :lol:

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9 minutes ago, Fer Fuchs Ake said:

1 shot on target for Lyon :D

And it was a penalty :lol:

Rennes will get there...I'm motivated to help!

Brutal, brutal luck for them.

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Rennes fall short again in 2059/60, as Chelsea come back from the dead to claim the title with a 2-1 win over Manchester United in Istanbul.

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Valencia also made a go of things, after a long absence from the knockout stages.

So, there will be no newly-eligible teams when young Gunnar takes his first steps into management later this summer.

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The Midget Beast has officially retired at age 72, having spent the twilight of his career managing Cruz Azul.

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I can't believe the Midget Beast outlasted the great and good(and golden oiled) lord and saviour UrCristiano.

*starts making blessed olive pit pendants to sell*

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When you don't know everything that you could know, it's a fine time to shut your ****ing noisemaker and be polite.

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FK Partizan Beograd

June 2060

The reality is this.  I've been hired as a PR stunt.  The son of the great Hakan Telleus, come to Belgrade to rejuvenate the wayward Partizan.

I'm a sideshow to them.  Someone who will boost ticket sales, while they attempt to lure a proven manager.  Truth be told, I am in over my head.  Sure, I've done my badges and read the books.  But that's where they screwed up.  They picked the wrong son.  I never even met my father, much less learned at his feet like those arrogant twins, who have looked down on me since the minute I entered their lives.  As if this situation is to be laid at my feet.

But that's their problem.  Not mine.  My job is to focus.  Earn some respect.  I can't help who my father was.  All I can do is take care of the business in front of me.

The Super Liga kicks off in 5 weeks.  I've got an entire locker room of players who know I'm a fraud to win over.

And the supporters?  I'm a little terrified of what they'll do if I fail to perform.

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5 minutes ago, BoxToBox said:

I can't believe the Midget Beast outlasted the great and good(and golden oiled) lord and saviour UrCristiano.

*starts making blessed olive pit pendants to sell*

I have it on good authority that Shards of the Blessed Pit go for quite the premium in Turkey.

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