Mo' Money, Less Problems

[TerminalPortugal]

Mo Money, Less Problems

I have always wanted to do a Football Manager related story whereby I try and make the most consistent decisions, which sometimes in Football Manager is quite difficult we play the game to get away from life’s consistencies and fulfil the life of a football manager. The idea behind this story is to really get into the details of what my manager is being paid etc. and account for all the costs and make sure that I make the decisions that the manager would naturally make. To this end I will be taking account of my salary, and accounting for all the costs that I would face if I was trying to live in the city I am managing. I will be taking account of cost to live, mortgage repayments when we get to that etc.

To make things a little bit interesting I am going to be starting the story about as far from the footballing Mecca’s of the world as you can get in New Zealand, as an unemployed fool trying to make a living; and I will be starting with no badges and no experience. I imagine the first part of the story will be grind to keep my own finances above water. Most importantly, I will be making generally selfish decisions about what happens to the manager and first and foremost thinking first with the wallet and not eking out a 3^rd division title when I am would be living a cardboard box in reality.

Anyway enjoy.

 

Chapter One: Touch Down in Auckland

My name is Virgílio Coutinho, son to two Portuguese parents, born in London, England and I am an fraud investigator at a well-known bank, however that was a few weeks ago before I decided to be a bit crazy a trust a Kiwi mate, and jet off to Auckland to see a man about a job in football management.

Arriving at Auckland Airport late at night, I felt a tangible sense of excitement and impending doom, leaving rainy London might seem likely to get the excitement pumping, but this was not a three week visit. I was here to take my life saving (£3,892 to exact) and settle down, on the basis of a reasonably good friend’s (Frenchy) contact list and the potential to leave my dead end job office job and pursue my passion football coaching.

Now I had no qualifications in this field, but I was assured by Frenchy that it would not be a problem. He had a friend who was looking for a young manager to put his team in order. It had dawned on me on the flight over, where I had plenty of time to think, that I had not yet signed any contract, it was pure fancy what I was doing.

I had a meeting with the Rob Crump, the chairman of Fencibles United. I had had a shortish email conversation with he told me to a get a flight out to New Zealand for the “formalities”. On arriving at the hotel, which had already been paid for out of my savings, all my body wanted to do is go to bed, but I wanted at the same time I wanted to get in some last minute research in case the job was not so much of a formality, as it had been made out in the emails that Mr. Crump had made out.

I awoke with my phone on 1 % battery and I could glancing at the time I could see I had slept a good ten hours in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Uncoiling myself like a broken spring every muscle ached in my back. The sunshine was burning its way through the window and a second cursory look at the phone revealed that I didn’t have much time until the meeting was due to start. I jumped in the shower, taking too long to work out how the water would come out of the blasted thing, and readily prepared my suit, which I had had at least the foresight to take out of my case, so that it wouldn’t look like a wrinkled mess. I quickly applied some aftershave and zoomed downstairs to the front office, and placed an order for a cab as quick as possible. Unfortunately when I was asked where I wanted to go, I realised I had left my orientation documentation in my room, so another quick journey to the room and back wasted another 5 or so minutes.

As the cabby arrived I told him to head to Riverhills Park. The response came back that it was about a 30 minute drive, seriously putting the idea of turning up early or on time in jeopardy. Perhaps he could sense my exasperation as he asked me “Are you late for something?”; “Only a job interviewed I travelled thousands of miles to attend”. On that he seemed to perk up and told me that he would have me there as quick as possible.

The ride was an anxious one, as I cursed myself for not having been a little bit more time aware, or rather less jet lagged.

The car pulled in with a minute to spare. I thanked the driver and proceeded to jump out immediately. The driver got out and said “You gotta pay me mate, and I expect a tip!” This jolted me out of my rush momentarily and I quickly confirmed that I was going to pay him, however as I reached down I realised I had left my wallet at the hotel room. Ten minutes of apologies and agreeing that I would pay him later and that he knew where I was staying in Auckland eventually got some acceptance, but by now I was pretty late.

Arriving at the door I burst through and stated my business at white club house in the middle of a field. The receptionist barely had time to answer when the door across from me, opened and out popped an overweight, middle aged balding man as he bellowed “Are you Virgil?” Pleased with his seemingly unfussed tone, I decided there was no bother correcting pronunciation and quickly strode up to shake his hand, while profusely apologising for my tardiness.

As I went into the office that I was ushered into, I could see a few trophies on the wall and a name plaque to confirm that I was indeed in the office of Rob Crump, as if the introduction had needed to be confirmed by some omniscient sign.

“Well let’s get down to business”, Rob bellowed in what I imagined was an ice breaking tone. “Thanks for coming in to see us, I know it is a long way to come for an interview…but I like to meet everyone who is going to work here in person and figure out what they are about”.

Clearly formalities were not quite formalities here on the other side of the globe.

“Interview? Yes of course” I said dryly masking humour for fear.

The next 10 minutes followed with a description of what I did and why I felt I was qualified to manage the football club, before it diverted to how is Wayne was doing in the motherland.

“Frenchy is doing good, me and him are good friends, I have to thank him properly for putting me in touch with you” I mentioned to curry favour.”

“Well he is a good kid, me and his dad go way back, used to play on the same school Rugby team. A friend of his is a friend of mine”.

The interview quickly got more serious as Mr Crump probed at the clubs issues and how I could resolve them. The club had been playing in Division 2, last season and had achieved promotion to the NRFL Division 1 last season, however the manager and the club had had a dispute and they had parted ways. A replacement was hard to come by and the club was being managed currently by Assistant Manager Tim O’Brien, but he did not want the job and performances were not up to scratch anyway. The Club had already dropped out of the Chatham Cup in the 1^st Round to Central League outfit Palmerston North Marist 3-0.

The conversation moved onto the small matter of a lack of funds. I suspected that this was not only to confirm my suspicions that we did not have any funds to improve playing personnel but to quash any wage demands I may have. I put an understanding nod and reiterated that it was no problem to work under these circumstances.

Next came to small matter of exactly where the chairman felt the club should be finishing, which he felt was mid table this season, although he was quick to state that he always wanted to see improvement. I agreed to the challenge set out to the newly promoted club, and following a discussion on preferred tactics and strategy I was being told it had been nice and that he would be in touch shortly….when other candidates had been seen.

As I meandered to my hotel entrance I could see the cab driver waiting outside the entrance. His eyes betrayed his annoyance of the situation. I walked over and apologised again (becoming quite a habit) and asked how much it would be $60 for the fair, and $60 for the inconvenience. I did argue, fetched my wallet and paid the man, the equivalent of £62 GBP. A pretty hefty fee for me.

For four days I heard nothing. Frenchy rang up and asked how everything had gone. I told him I wasn’t sure and that I was surprised that I was going in for an interview I thought it was a day deal based on what he had said.

Eventually the call came in and Rob Crump was on the other end of the phone.

“I just wanted to say I was impressed with you, and I want to offer you the job”.

I did my best silent goal celebration and calmly retorted my thanks for the opportunity. After a few pleasantries I realised that at no point had we talked about money. After a few minutes I meandered the conversation to the very subject.

“So I was just wandering what is the compensation for the role”.

A bit of silence followed, “Virgil…it’s an amateur club, there is no wage, but a good opportunities to take your formative steps in management”

Stunned silence on my end, “….but I don’t understand, how can I support myself here”. After a little bit of back and forth, Rob said that his main business could always use some office support. It looked like I would be working making the tea and coffee at the local real estate agents.

I reluctantly accepted the job offer, and got off the phone, as I scrolled through my contacts to ring Frenchy and give him a piece of my mind as I thought to myself “Stitch up!”

Money Left - £3,651.06

Assets – None

[tenthreeleader]

Very interesting first post. Let's see where this takes you!

[kasandra]

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