Knight - Win, Lose or Die

viperk1 · February 22, 2009

Cheers weeeman! Thanks for your continuing support

Tuesday 20th June 2006: Café Nero, Fareham

“Good afternoon, Danny,” the waitress welcomed the two men as they made their entrance to an unusually quiet Café Nero – as it was the only coffee shop in the middle of Fareham, it was usually bustling. Or at least, that was the way it was whenever Daniel turned up for his usual brew. “It’s quiet, isn’t it? Either way, what would you like – the usual, I assume?” she asked, getting ready to prepare Daniel Knight’s favourite coffee – an Espresso Ristretto. It’s an acquired taste, according to most people.

“Blame the World Cup for this place being so quiet, Jen – and we’ll both have a standard Espresso. Keep the change,” Daniel requested, planting a £10 note in the waitress’ hand. Naturally, she was surprised at being asked to keep the change – after all, an Espresso was only priced at £1.75. However, she wasn’t going to complain about it – she was literally being given free money. Nodding her head, she set about concocting the drinks whilst Daniel made his way to join his assistant manager at an empty table – not that he had any trouble with that, mind.

Aaron had already set about getting things ready for discussion, having dragged another folder out of the bag – and placing the staff folder back in the bag. “This is the folder for the entire first team, Danny,” he stated, flicking through the pages like a book – it was certainly a larger selection of people than the staff folder was. “As much as I’d like to say all the faces in here are Premiership standard, I can’t – this squad needs to change to survive,” the assistant manager admitted, passing the folder to his boss.

“I don’t doubt that for a second, Aaron – no squad is perfect,” Daniel replied, nonchalantly flicking through the pages. Obviously, times had changed a lot since he last donned a Pompey jersey – and not one of the faces of the first team squad brought back old memories, with the exception of thirty-two year old centre-back Karl Lowe. Lowe was an England international of immense talent – who surprisingly had not been included in the World Cup squad. Though the fact that he had retired from international football may have had something to do with that.

Thankfully, Daniel’s remembrance of his former team-mate was broken when the coffee he had ordered arrived. “Thanks, Jennifer,” the unofficial Portsmouth manager admitted, taking a quick sip of the Espresso – whilst it wasn’t as strong as a Ristretto, it still tasted like a dream. “Now, let’s get down to business,” Daniel admitted to his assistant, placing the cup on the table. Naturally, the discussions lasted a relatively long time – however, by the time the two men had finished, Daniel could finally say that he had a rough idea as to who made up the squad and the pecking order for each position:

The contest for the goalkeeper’s jersey at Fratton Park was to be between two of the brightest English talents to grace the football world. With 21 caps worth of international experience behind him, thirty-five year old Michael Gibbons would’ve seemed like a certainty, especially with reflexes that were second-to-none in the English game – however, his waning concentration and advancing years would be a growing concern. Naturally, it would allow twenty-one year old Bryn Wright to don the keeper’s jersey – who was already as good as, if not better, than his internationally renowned team-mate.

The right back position was one of those places that seemed sorted for the season - and was to be hotly contested over the season between Angel Mirchev, a twenty-nine year old Bulgarian,and Ariel Rizzi, a twenty-seven year old Argentine. Whilst Mirchev had agility, pace and stamina on his side, Rizzi appeared to have the edge – his time at Boca Juniors provided him with strength rivalling the strongmen of the world and a better ability with the ball in the air.

On the other hand, the left back position was slightly trickier. Only twenty-four year old Englishman Paul Spooner appeared to have the right qualities to be a Premiership left-back. Spooner was certainly suited to the full-back position, what with pace and acceleration to rival Olympic 100m sprinters – and a good crossing ability. His only problem was that he had a tendency to shoot from long distances rather than pass. The only other true left back in the squad was Jak Willis, a Zambian teenager who lacked the potential or ability to make it in League One, let alone the Premiership.

Thankfully, the centre-back position seemed sown up for the time being – thanks to his six foot one inch frame, England’s Karl Lowe had no trouble with long balls. His physical abilities were still relatively sound for a thirty-two year old, and he was lethal in a dead ball situation – at his peak, there was nobody better. Lowe had captained the side for the last two years, and to be honest, Daniel didn’t see any need to change that – the other players had the utmost respect for him.

In terms of Lowe’s partner in central defence, there was certainly no competition – thirty-one year Zimbabwean Pete Primus was similar to the Englishman in so many ways. Just like Lowe, Primus was a tall figure standing at six foot – and as a result, was certainly able to head the ball away from sticky situations. The main backup for Primus and Lowe was a twenty-five year old Cameroonian by the name of Moussa Bayiha – though full-back Ariel Rizzi was a very able centre-back too.

Daniel had always intended to play a 4-3-3 formation just like he did with the Cosham Knights – but the defensive midfield position was one that needed work. Every defensive midfielder seemed to be more suited to the central midfield position – but the best by a long way appeared to be a determined twenty-seven year old German called Markus Keim, who seemed very capable at breaking up play with his quality tackling ability. The back up in this position included an aggressive twenty-six year old named Camille Rubach from the Republic of Congo and a teenage Frenchman by the name of Thomas Scotto – who had scored five goals from free kicks in the previous season.

The only other central midfielder left in the squad was twenty-nine year old Mancunian Russell Hindmarch – who was even taller than Karl Lowe at six foot five inches. His ability to anticipate the direction of the ball had earned him seven goals over the course of the last season – including a vital last minute winner against Manchester City in March. Whilst not as good as Keim, Rubach and Scotto in the defensive midfield position, Hindmarch certainly had the ability to break up play with his tackling.

The winger positions were certainly in need of work - it seemed that none of the squad were of a Premiership standard along the wings. Whilst Paul Spooner could double up as a left winger, the best left winger in the squad was English teenager Sam Thompson – but he was Championship quality at best. The rest of the wingers in the squad would definitely struggle in the Premiership – Welshman Matt Dixon, Dutchman Matthew de Graaf, Englishman Jonathon Hodge and teenager Graham Anderson were all to be transfer listed.

The striker position presented itself with a problem that the Portsmouth boss preferred – whilst there was only one position available up front, there were three players that had the quality to score goals in the Premiership. The youngest was twenty-seven year old Englishman Roy Champion, whose first touch was subtle yet deadly and was the hardest working player in the entire squad. However, he faced stiff competition from Romanian international Ovidiu Barbu and a former Canadian international that was on the wrong side of thirty. At thirty-four, Jason Hughes was certainly nearing the end of his playing career – but was still at the top of his game.

“So what do you think of the squad then?” Aaron asked, finishing off the last dregs of the Espresso – that had, naturally, gone rather cold. The Portsmouth assistant manager had been totally right in respect of the ability of the squad – the wingers were lacklustre at best and there was a general lack of cover in key positions. However, the remainder of the squad appeared to have some kind of Premiership qualities – maybe things weren’t as dire at Fratton Park as many of the media had seemed to believe.

“All I can say is that we’ve got work to do.”

Goofus · February 22, 2009

Good luck with those bunch of guys then...

Compared to my aging squad though, at least you have youth!

minisav · February 22, 2009

Great post. Good luck with them! :thup:

viperk1 · February 24, 2009

Goofus and minisav - thanks! I just hope that they don't let me down.

Wednesday 21st June 2006: Fratton Park (Physiotherapy & Medical Unit), Portsmouth

“Now if you’ll just rotate your shoulders a couple of times for me…” the head physiotherapist muttered, feeling for any kind of muscle tears. Forty-four year old Jamie Burns had done this kind of pre-season check-up with every youngster prior to them joining the club. Obviously, nobody had ever failed the check-up – otherwise they wouldn’t be at Portsmouth FC anyway. The latest batch of youngsters had shown up merely two days ago, and finally Jamie was onto the last check-up.

Naturally, the player in question followed the instructions to the letter, calmly rotating his shoulder forwards as Jamie felt for any kind of tears in the muscles – not that he found any, mind. “That’s great, Mr. Eze – we’re done,” Jamie admitted, having found no problems with the youngster’s physique. Quite frankly, what a Nigerian was doing coming up the ranks at Portsmouth had baffled the head physiotherapist no end – but the fact was that the sixteen year old was a part of the club.

“It’s Emmanuel, Mr. Burns – but thank you,” the Nigerian teenager replied, picking up his training bag – he had hated being known as E. Eze at school, normally leaving his surname blank on the work sheets. Thankfully, the teachers recognised the name instantly – after all, he was the only foreign student in the building. “So when does training begin?” Emmanuel asked, hoping that the physio’s knew the date in which the Nigerian could start his Portsmouth career.

However, the three physio’s in the room had become distracted by a fifth person who had just entered the room. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave, sir – we don’t do public viewings,” the second physiotherapist, thirty-five year old James Parsons, stated, pointing towards the door. However, neither Parsons nor the final physiotherapist, thirty-five year old Joe Hendley, had heard the news of Daniel Knight’s appointment as manager – so had no idea that the man standing in front of them was in fact their boss.

“Oh, how tempting would it be to sack you now – you don’t recognise the club’s manager?” Daniel sarcastically smirked, pulling the signed contract out of his coat pocket – and subsequently surprising the three physio’s present. “Don’t worry – I just came along to see just how good you guys really are,” the manager admitted, placing the contract back into the pocket – his assistant had recommended that he take a look at the physiotherapy unit today.

“Do you want us to do another check on Emmanuel there?” Joe asked, pointing to the Nigerian youngster – Emmanuel, seemingly awestruck by the presence of his new manager, hadn’t moved an inch. “Or do you want us to check on you?” he offered, knowing that a young manager needed to be in tip-top shape prior to a season. An injured manager wouldn’t be able to lead his players out onto the pitch – or anything else, for that matter.

“Go on then – I haven’t seen my GP in five years,” Daniel joked, sitting down on the medical unit’s bed. The Portsmouth manager knew what to expect from the physio reports, however – he had taken it upon himself to go to the local gym every morning since the end of 2005, just so he could keep himself fit. Then again, that may have been so he wasn’t upstaged by the youngsters in his Cosham Knights during training – how that seemed like a long time ago now.

Daniel certainly wasn’t entirely sure how a physical examination took place – though the physiotherapists at his local gym had tried to explain the four main stages of the investigation process. All the Portsmouth boss could remember was the names of those stages – inspection, palpation, percussion and auscultation. “You done already?” he asked, having not taken much notice of what was really going on – at least, not until the head physio beckoned for him to stand.

“Yes we have – and everything looks fine, Mr. Knight. You’re in top shape – and the only thing we’ve noticed is a slight bit of scar tissue on your left calf muscle,” James Parsons admitted, attributing the scar to an injury that the Portsmouth boss had picked up during his playing career. The head physio was clearly surprised by Daniel’s physical fitness – after all, the new manager had been away from a competitive football match for well over six years.

Thankfully, Daniel was truly impressed with the physio team’s findings. He couldn’t help but be elated about what they had to say about his physique – and was surprised that they had picked up upon a former injury that the gym’s physiotherapists made no mention of. “I’m impressed, you three – you clearly seem to know what you’re doing,” Daniel admitted, thoroughly shaking the hands of each of the Portsmouth physiotherapy team. “Though call me Danny in future,” the Pompey boss requested – after all, he’d asked the same thing of everybody else at Fratton Park.

The three physio’s swiftly nodded, returning to whatever work they had left to do for the day. However, Emmanuel’s gaze remained transfixed upon the new Portsmouth manager – clearly the teenager had heard about Daniel Knight’s near-legendary status at Fratton Park. “Excuse me, Mr. Knight?” he nervously asked, seemingly still in awe at being in the presence of such an esteemed figure in Pompey’s history – though clearly he hadn’t been listening to a word anybody had said.

Naturally, the Nigerian youngster was under the impression that he wasn’t important enough to elicit a response from the new Portsmouth boss – though that was as far from the truth as possible. “You must be Emmanuel – I’ve heard so much about you,” Daniel admitted, having spoken to his assistant about potential talents at the club – one of which was the Nigerian striker, Emmanuel. “Training doesn’t start until Monday, but I’d like to see your abilities for myself – do you reckon you can do Friday?” the Portsmouth manager stated, pushing the physiotherapy unit door open for the youngster.

“Yes sir! I’ll be there,” the youngster replied, thrilled that he had received such a glowing review from a man he held in such high regard. “Maybe you can give me some tips?” Emmanuel queried, knowing full well that the new manager had also played as a striker – and whose experience could prove invaluable to such a young player. Daniel merely nodded, allowing the Nigerian youngster through the door – but not before giving him a sound forewarning:

“I’ll be pushing you to the limit, Emmanuel – so be prepared.”

Coop624 · February 25, 2009

this is probably one of the best stories ive read on the forums.. keep it up

gavrenwick · February 25, 2009

Ill second that, its terrific to read.

viperk1 · February 26, 2009

Blimey, I didn't expect these kinds of comments! Thank you both for your support.

Thursday 22nd June 2006: 53 Velder Avenue, Portsmouth

“So how has the World Cup gone for England then, Danny?” Iain Knight questioned, unsure as to how well the players were doing in Germany – mostly due to him working at Portsmouth Water’s purification plant during the times that England’s group stage fixtures were showing on television. “I assume we’re in the next round, right?” he wondered, knowing that in a group consisting of England, Sweden, Paraguay and World Cup debutants Trinidad and Tobago, qualification was a breeze.

“Topped the group, Dad – though I’m not entirely sure as to who we’re playing in the second round,” Daniel admitted, perusing the wall chart that the News of the World had included within the paper prior to the start of the World Cup. After a quick look at the Group A and B tables, he discovered that their second round tie was against Group A runners-up Ecuador. “Aren’t there a couple of matches on tonight?” he asked, pushing himself off the armchair to switch on the television.

“According to the TV Times, Danny, its Croatia vs. Australia on BBC1,” Iain stated, before placing the magazine down by his side on the second armchair – with nobody else living in 53 Velder Avenue, the two lads had decided that armchairs were good enough for them. “The pundits keep going on about this one player on the Croatian team – but their manager never plays him,” he admitted, switching the channel to BBC1 – where the pre-match build-up was only just starting.

“Yeah, I keep hearing them talking about him too – it’s a bloke called Lovre Koksa, isn’t it?” Daniel asked, sitting back down on his armchair – just like his father, the Portsmouth manager had heard the television pundits talking about the Croatian right winger like it had been going out of fashion. “From what I can see, it’s because Bruno Babic is doing such a good job for them on the right wing,” he admitted, referring to a twenty-nine year old Croatian right winger currently plying his trade with the disgraced ‘Old Lady’ – Juventus.

“I reckon he gets chosen on the right purely because he plays for an Italian club,” Iain stated, showing his disbelief at the number of players chosen in the Croatian squad that weren’t plying their trade in their own country – only four of the twenty-three man squad had come from the Prva HNL, Croatia’s top flight. Even then, all of them were playing for the 05/06 champions, NK Dinamo Zagreb. In comparison, only Neil Davies of Real Madrid was the sole member of the England squad not to play for an English club.

“I guess he needs to sign for a reputable club outside of Croatia to get anywhere near a starting place in the national team, then,” Daniel admitted, as the Croatian line-up was finally shown on screen – and once again, Babic was starting on the right. With Croatia needing a win over their Oceanic opponents to qualify from Group F, it was clear that their manager, Kresimir Brkic, wasn’t taking any risks with his selection choice – after all, Koksa hadn’t earned a single cap prior to the World Cup.

“If that’s true, then why don’t you try signing him for Portsmouth?” his father asked, knowing that the club lacked any top flight wingers – at least, that’s what he had thought of them when he watched their Premiership matches last season. “Portsmouth’s a reputable club within the strongest league in the world – and with Kozlov’s money available, we’re going places,” Iain continued, trying to convince his son that Koksa would be a suitable signing for Pompey – maybe he was exaggerating a little about the strength of the Barclays Premiership but Portsmouth, in terms of reputation, were certainly higher up the scale than Dinamo Zagreb.

“I wouldn’t see why not – I’ll get my scouts to do some research on him,” Daniel admitted, before being disrupted by the sound of the Australian national anthem – ‘Advance Australia Fair' . Like every other international fixture, the national anthems of the two sides were being played out to the crowds – and of course, in typical fashion, the Croatian fans weren’t best pleased. ‘I don’t understand why the Croatian’s feel they need to boo at the Australian national anthem…’ Daniel thought, knowing that he would never do such a thing. This kind of thing was a show of ignorance – and stupidity.

The match itself wasn’t one to write home about in terms of technical brilliance or a wonderful goal – instead, the one thing that made it different from all other matches was the horrific display shown by English referee Kevin Eagles. The Premiership referee had already sent off two players, and seemed destined to send a third off when Nürnberg’s Croatian defender Mario Simunovic made a poor challenge on Liverpool’s Shane Panopoulos in the last minute.

Despite being on a yellow card already, Simunovic was not sent off – instead, only a yellow card was shown, and the Croatian was allowed to continue playing for the injury time left to play in the match. However, he was eventually sent off – when the Croatian defender began complaining to the referee at the end of the match, Eagles eventually showed him his third yellow card and was finally sent off the pitch. Not that it mattered in this competition – the Croatian’s were going home anyway.

The Croat’s started brightly, with Club Brugge striker Ivan Raic-Sudar scoring his first international goal from a free kick from just outside the area. However, prior to the end of the first half, the Croatians scored a major own goal after one of their defenders blatantly handled the ball inside the penalty area. Shane Panopoulos delivered a central penalty – but the Croatian keeper had already moved, allowing the Australian to score his first international goal.

With Japan being soundly beaten by Brazil, Australia only needed to hold on to this score-line to ensure qualification to the knockout stages – not that they did, mind. A mistake from the Australian goalkeeper allowed Mladen Lucan’s weak and bobbling shot to settle itself inside the Socceroo goal – and the Everton midfielder's first international goal meant that Croatia, not Australia, would be going through alongside Brazil.

However, it wasn’t meant to be – as the match began to descend into a proverbial farce with one player being sent off from each side, Adam Tomich was allowed to break clear from the Croatian defence to be one-on-one with the keeper. Naturally, the Newcastle man made no mistake, sliding the ball underneath the Croatian keeper to bring the scores level. With the score-line at 2 – 2, the outcome had changed in the Socceroo’s favour – and that was the way the match ended.

“That was an awful match,” Daniel admitted, turning the television off in disgust - never before had he seen such farcical refereeing in an international match. Quite how was Kevin Eagles representing the high quality of English referee’s in the Premiership? ‘Though I did get to hear about Lovre Koksa’s potential as a Premiership player…’ the Portsmouth manager thought to himself, realising that he had to start thinking about players to sign to sort out the problem on the wings – before he officially started his management role.

At least he’d made a start.

SCIAG · February 26, 2009

Erm, I know the charecters are fictional, but aren't they (except for the Knights and the young players) based on real people?

If so...

Nedved's Czech, not Croat.

KUTGW!

Coop624 · February 27, 2009

another fine post

viperk1 · February 28, 2009

Thank you for your support, fellas - just try and keep your comments on topic in future.

Friday 23rd June 2006: Wellington Sports Ground, Eastleigh

“This place is such a dump,” Emmanuel loudly admitted to himself as he quickly looked around the training facilities that he would be training in for the season. The Nigerian youngster could clearly see bobbles on the grass that simply didn’t exist on the Fratton Park pitch – or even any of the pitches that he had seen throughout his amateur career around Portsmouth. “Something needs to be done,” he stated to nobody in particular, also realising just how far the training grounds were from the Fratton Park stadium.

“Don’t worry about it, Emmanuel – the board will know exactly what I think of this place soon enough,” the manager yelled from the other end of the outdoor pitch. Whilst Emmanuel had only just arrived, Daniel Knight had already gotten started – he had donned the old Portsmouth kit he used to wear, and had begun try to see just how much his abilities had waned since his departure from football. “Now you go inside, get changed and warm up,” he requested, pointing over to the changing rooms – the Portsmouth boss wanted some practice before training began.

Whilst the young Nigerian headed off to the changing rooms, Daniel dragged over the trolley of cardboard cut-outs so they were positioned in front of a goalmouth that was the furthest away from the sports building. Picking up the ball, he strode ten paces back before placing it back down again. “About thirty yards, this,” the Portsmouth boss admitted to himself, before delivering a venomous left-footed shot. The ball easily curled over the wall before striking the post – frustratingly, it rebounded away from the goal. “Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m not playing…” Daniel sighed, knowing that he’d have buried such a free-kick during his playing days.

“Oh wow – that was brilliant!” Emmanuel stated in awe as he watched his boss have another go at the free kick – and burying it straight into the top corner. The Nigerian youngster had never seen Daniel Knight in action, as he had only been a toddler when a then-twenty year old striker became a figure of adulation during the FA Cup. “You wouldn’t mind coming out of retirement, would you?” he joked, letting out quite a large yawn below the the morning sky – after all, it was only eight o’clock.

Daniel couldn’t help but smirk at the young Nigerian’s comment. He had never rated himself as such a good player – just one that always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. “Not a chance, Emmanuel – now, let’s get to work,” the Portsmouth manager stated, focusing on the matter at hand – after all, he had requested that Emmanuel were to turn up today. He didn’t want to be just testing out his own abilities on the football pitch – he wanted to see whether his assistant manager’s hype over the young Nigerian was justified.

“You’ve seen me score from a free kick, lad – let’s see what you can do,” Daniel stated, placing the ball down at exactly the same point that he had scored from. Admittedly, it was always going to be easier today – there was no goalkeeper holding fort at the goalmouth. “I’d try to aim for the top corner – in a real match, it’s the only place that the goalkeeper can’t pluck the ball out of the air,” he added, offering as much advice as he could – if Caruso’s hype was true, the young Nigerian needed all the nurturing he could get.

Emmanuel simply nodded, taking one quick look at the set-up in front of him. Aiming for the top corner was all well and good – but if the ball struck the wall, there wouldn’t have been much point. With his Portsmouth idol watching, it wouldn’t have been too much of a surprise if the Nigerian youngster fluffed the shot – but that was farther from the truth as ever. Taking a short run-up, Emmanuel delivered a curling left-footed shot in the same vein as his boss. However, the Nigerian’s shot struck the inside of the crossbar – before bouncing straight into the net .

“For a sixteen year old, that’s a good free kick, Emmanuel – well done,” Daniel admitted, knowing that the best players, like Chelsea’s Ivorian striker Michel Traoré, wouldn’t have to rely on the woodwork to score goals from free-kicks. “Now let’s see how good you are with a moving ball,” he stated, dragging the cardboard cut-outs away from the eighteen yard box. “I want you to run from the edge of the opposite eighteen yard box, beat a defender and then score,” the Portsmouth manager requested, pointing towards three different things – the edge of the opposite eighteen yard box, himself and the goalmouth behind him.

“Yes, boss,” Emmanuel replied, seemingly taking everything in his stride – it seemed as if nothing fazed him whatsoever. Which, of course, was surprising – especially for somebody so young. “Let’s see whether you’re as a good a defender as you are a striker,” the Nigerian joked as he placed the ball down at the edge of the opposing eighteen yard box – what nobody had told Emmanuel was that Daniel had been a natural at the centre of defence when he was a teenager. Of course, Portsmouth’s staff then re-trained him to be a class act in front of goal – and he had never looked back since.

The youngster then produced a spurt of pace whilst expertly dribbling the ball, changing feet every so often to try and confuse his manager. Once the Nigerian was nearly ready to try and beat his man, Emmanuel slowed himself down so he could try to switch direction – not that he did, mind. The youngster moved to the right, then went in completely the opposite direction, using the outside of his left foot to shift the ball away from the outwitted defender. Taking a quick look up towards the goalmouth, Emmanuel instantly pulled the trigger, watching as the ball rasped into the back of the net.

“I’m impressed,” Daniel admitted, picking up the ball from inside the net. “When Aaron told me you were one of the best players to come up from the amateur leagues, he wasn’t wrong – if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were Premiership class already,” he added, throwing the ball over to the young Nigerian – it seemed that his assistant was spot on in terms of how good he was. As the training session continued, Daniel finally convinced himself that Emmanuel was not only a gifted youngster.

In his newly formed opinion, the kid was potentially world class.

minisav · February 28, 2009

Great stuff there :thup:

Loving this. KUTGW

viperk1 · March 2, 2009

minisav - keep up your support mate! Very grateful that people are still reading such long posts...

Saturday 24th June 2006: Fratton Park (Press Room), Portsmouth

‘Wow – I never expected so many journalists for this,’ Daniel thought to himself, taking a quick glimpse behind the partition – at least ten interviewers had turned up. As a player, he’d be lucky to have three journalists turn up to interview him and the manager – though the fact that he was now part of a Premiership club rather than a second-tier side may have had something to do with the vast difference in numbers. Admittedly, he was a little worried – they could just as easily bring up some of his past that he never wanted to remember again.

Suddenly, the distinctly Russian-accented voice of the chairman, Kirill Kozlov, silenced the media’s inane chatter to one another. “I would like to thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to come today. Shaun Innes lost his job as Portsmouth’s manager at the start of this month due to poor performances last season – and we subsequently redoubled our efforts into finding a suitable replacement for him,” the chairman admitted, finally taking his seat at the table, with microphones from each media source attached to the edge.

“Despite the number of experienced and unemployed managers currently seeking jobs, we at Portsmouth Football Club believed that the best man for the job was one who has never managed in football before – so that he would be remembered by the things he has done for this club, rather than when he managed another club,” Kirill continued, watching as every single reporter in the room hung on to his every word – which was exactly what he wanted.

“Thankfully, I can report to you all that this search for that man has now ended, and a suitable candidate has been chosen – a young man who delivered one hundred and ten percent during his playing career for his hometown club, and has remained loyal to Portsmouth throughout his life. I can gratefully report that Daniel Knight has been appointed as the new manager of Portsmouth,” he finished, welcoming the newest Premiership manager into the limelight.

The applause that ensued warmed Daniel’s heart – he had expected sceptical tones from the press due to his lack of experience. As he took his seat, the applause died down – just like for his chairman, the media were hanging onto his every word. “I must admit that it is an honour that I’ve been offered this opportunity to manage a club that I have held dear to my heart for my whole life – and I hope not to disappoint the fans of Portsmouth Football Club,” the new Portsmouth manager stated, watching as the reporter’s scribbled down notes – of which he could only assume that they would help them write their respective stories on the situation at the club.

“Now, I’m sure you all have questions – so the floor is open to you all,” Daniel admitted, watching as every reporter in the press room raised their hands up – though surprisingly, the room remained silent. Usually the press made a lot of noise, trying to make sure they could ask their question before anyone else. “I guess we’ll start from the front and head backwards…you first, sir,” he stated, pointing to the man sitting at the front of the press gaggle.

“Darren Blake – Portsmouth Today. Are you not daunted by the prospect of managing a Premiership club as big as Portsmouth so early in your managerial career?” he asked into his microphone, his pen hanging loosely above his notebook in anticipation – in fact, it seemed as if every journalist was doing the same thing.

“To say that I’m not daunted by this management opportunity would be like saying that, for instance, your microphone just did a tap dance on top of my head,” Daniel joked, drawing a few laughs from the assembled media. “Jokes aside, this is far more daunting than anything I’ve ever done – taking the team for their first match this season will be far more scary for me than making my debut as a player,” he admitted, knowing that in his heart, he was thoroughly scared by the calibre of the job – what if he made a mistake and got them relegated?

“Jonathon Campbell-Ryce – BBC Sport. There are many football pundits that rate Portsmouth’s chances of breaking free from any kind of relegation scrap this season as extremely poor – do you feel that this rating is justified?” another journalist asked, having been pointed at by the new manager to ask his question – it seemed that the system of waiting to ask a question was far more suitable than simply trying to grab the manager’s attention by yelling their name out.

“It’s something I certainly disagree with – after all, it’s far too early in the season to judge a club’s credentials. Though I must admit that the chairman wouldn’t have appointed me if I wasn’t going to at least try and prevent another relegation scrap at Fratton Park,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, giving a small wink to Kirill Kozlov – after all, a successful relegation scrap was exactly what the Russian businessman was expecting. Pointing to the woman behind Campbell-Ryce, he beckoned for the questions to keep coming in.

“Louise Woodgate – Sky Sports. There have been reports that the club will have a substantial transfer budget to play with this season. Are these reports true, and are you planning to use any of it?” she asked, knowing that the Russian businessman sitting alongside Daniel Knight wouldn’t have bought the club from Srdjan Stojicic if he didn’t want to see it flourish.

“Admittedly, whilst the budget isn’t as large as teams like Chelsea and Arsenal, I believe that the money I have available to me is, as you say, substantial. In terms of planning to use it, I certainly believe that the squad needs improving in order to finish where I want us to be by May next year,” Daniel replied, knowing already that he planned to use some of Kozlov’s millions on a certain Croatian. Not that he was going to tell the press that, mind – it would be just short of suicidal.

Pointing to another journalist, Daniel expected more questions about what he had planned with the club and who he was planning to purchase to improve the squad. “William Adams – The Sun,” the reporter stated, causing a slight wave of scepticism throughout the entire media scrum – The Sun newspaper wasn’t exactly a media source with integrity. However, this didn’t matter to the new Portsmouth manager and allowed Mr. Adams to ask his question – though admittedly, it was a question that nobody ever expected:

“Why did you retire?”

minisav · March 3, 2009

Cracking post again. Can't wait to see more :thup:

viperk1 · March 4, 2009

minisav - thanks once again. More you shall see (for some time, at least )

Saturday 24th June 2006: Fratton Park (Press Room), Portsmouth

Most of the media scrum was certainly taken aback by such a personal question from William Adams – but it seemed that Daniel had been expecting some kind of question regarding his unceremonious departure from playing football. After all, nobody had actually heard the true reasons why he, such a high quality player at his peak, disappeared without a trace - not even his own father.

“I once stated that I retired because I was at my peak – that I didn’t want to be dropping down the leagues as my abilities began to decline,” Daniel admitted, remembering back to the statement that he made back in 2000 when he made the decision to retire. “However, whilst that is partially true, there was always another reason – which I assume you all have failed to figure out,” he stated, knowing that the timing of his retirement should’ve rung alarm bells with the media – apparently, it didn’t.

“I wanted to retire at a time when I felt that it was the right thing to do – and I must admit that I probably had a few more years left in me with Portsmouth,” he continued, ignoring the fact that everybody was hanging onto his words like gold-dust – not one pen had met paper since he had started speaking. “Unfortunately, circumstances beyond my control forced me into an early retirement from football – which, to be honest, I don’t regret one bit,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, seemingly avoiding the question.

“Back in June 2000, there was a murder over at Priorsdean Avenue’s block of flats – the body of Danica Knight was found with a hole in her heart,” Daniel stated, finally trying not to avoid the question that had been asked. “Due to my status as a football player, I generally ignored anything that happened to her whilst in the public eye – I didn’t want to ‘ruin her career’, as she put it,” he admitted, knowing that the intelligent reporters in the media scrum would’ve finally figured out his true reasons for retiring.

“When hearing of her death, I made no mention of it to my superiors – but simply handed in the retirement notice, stating that I felt it was the right time to leave. In reality, I was broken inside – and I didn’t want to be in the public spotlight any longer because of it. The pressure of it all seemed too much to bear,” he declared, trying extremely hard to fight back tears of sadness in his eyes – it had been six years since Danica’s murder, but at the moment it felt like happened yesterday.

“Now that I’ve explained it, Mr. Adams, do you understand why I retired?” Daniel asked, posing a rare question to the journalist – who seemed to have gained a small foothold concerning the reasons, but seemingly couldn’t figure it out. “I retired because I wanted to mourn my sister’s death in private – to be away from the pressures that professional football provided at such a time in my life,” he finally admitted, watching as the journalists simply nodded in approval – very rarely had they seen a footballer with a sense of apropos.

“Thank you for the explanation, Mr. Knight – there are very few men who would dare admit to that,” Darren Blake admitted, seemingly summarising the opinions of every single person in the press room – after all, a ‘hard man’ reputation was one that many footballers, current and former, preferred to show to the cameras. “Now, before that question was asked, you admitted that the squad needed improving – are you willing to declare any transfer targets?” the Portsmouth Today journalist cheekily asked, trying to avoid going back to the subject of Daniel Knight’s retirement.

Naturally, the Portsmouth manager simply chuckled, shaking his head in disapproval. “I’ve got two things to say to that, Darren. One – call me Danny. Two – as much as I’d like to say who my sights are set on, I don’t want the rest of the Premiership going after them too – all I will say is that most of the Portsmouth wingers just aren’t up to scratch,” Daniel stated, knowing that he didn’t want the teams with open cheque books to start snapping up his transfer targets – he just hoped he’d said enough to satisfy the Portsmouth Today reporter.

Transfer targets, in his eyes, were a touchy subject – and he was extremely glad when the next question made no mention of those words. “David Ricoh – Talksport. Many Premiership clubs have usually opted for a standard formation – for instance, 4-4-2. Are you planning on sticking with this trend – or are you going for a different approach?” the reporter asked,trying to glean as much information from the new Portsmouth manager as possible – and failing.

“I’m certainly not going to be playing with a 4-4-2 formation at all during the season – but the formations and tactics that I deploy during the season will depend on the opposition we face,” Daniel stated, clearly trying to avoid the question – informing the press of the tactics he was going to use during the season would be suicidal. After all, the opposition would then be able to figure out the weak points of the tactic – and the new Portsmouth manager would soon be the ex-Portsmouth manager.

Surprisingly, despite the initial interest to ask a question, nobody else had their hands up to do just that. “If there are no more questions, I will now end this press conference – again, I thank you all for coming,” the chairman stated, officially ending the questions – not that anyone wanted to ask any more, mind. “Stick around, Danny – they’ll want photos,” Kirill admitted, knowing that the newspapers usually had some kind of photo to signify the new appointment of a manager.

Of course, the Russian wasn’t wrong – as the reporters departed the press room, the photographers almost immediately entered, continually snapping as the chairman and the new Portsmouth manager raised a Pompey scarf. Naturally, all four wanted the perfect shot of the two men – so both Kirill and Daniel ended up with very sore arms by the time the photographers had finished half an hour later.

Seriously – how long does somebody need to take one photograph?

viperk1 · March 6, 2009

Sunday 25th June 2006: Fratton Park (Board Room), Portsmouth

Portsmouth Today (25.06.06)

A KNIGHT’S TALE

By Darren Blake

When Shaun Innes was unceremoniously stripped of his position as manager of our beloved Pompey, I believed that the new chairman either wanted to start afresh – or had simply gone mad. Whilst Portsmouth only finished seventeenth last season, the fresh influx of money from Russian businessman Kirill Kozlov would’ve helped the club improve in leaps and bounds – making many people, including myself, wonder whether he was making a mistake.

Prior to speaking with Innes’ successor, I only assumed that Daniel Knight was an egotistical and selfish player who deserted our beloved Pompey – and that the real reason for his retirement was to ensure that he wasn’t forced out of the team as his abilities waned. When his name was stated as the new manager of Portsmouth, I feared the worst for our club. I feared that such an inexperienced and thick idiot like Knight was going to destroy the club and drive it into the ground whilst taking a healthy pay packet for a year.

How wrong I was.

The Daniel Knight I met in yesterday’s press conference was by far a very different man than the one I thought I knew. Whilst inexperienced in the management scene, and despite my initial opinion that he would be an unprofessional jerk, he appeared to be knowledgeable, forthcoming and extremely professional in his work – which was the complete opposite of my opinion of him. The fact that he had seemingly done his homework concerning his inherited squad says a lot about his willingness to manage his hometown club.

Shaun Innes has, in my opinion, left behind a strong squad in terms of defence, with strong-willed veterans such as Karl Lowe and Pete Primus leading the first team’s back line. However, these veterans will decline in ability soon enough and good replacements will be needed to ensure the back line remains strong in years to come. Without Karl Lowe, Pompey’s defence was leakier than a sunken ship – as proven during their five-nil thrashing against Birmingham.

The position where both I and the new manager are in agreement is on the wings. There is a significant lack of quality available on either side of the pitch – Matt Dixon, Matthew de Graaf, Jonathon Hodge and Sam Thompson just simply aren’t good enough to be in a Premiership football club. The fact that Knight admitted this himself just yesterday states that one or two wingers of a Premiership quality will be snapped up for our beloved club – as in the words of the new manager, “…most of the Portsmouth wingers just aren’t up to scratch.”

However, the thing that surprised me the most was his sense of apropos, dignity and humility – whilst many footballers would’ve simply gotten on with their professional life and forgotten about the death of a loved one, Knight deemed mourning the death of his sister, Danica Knight, to be far be more valid than continuing with his professional career at Portsmouth and forgetting it all. “I retired because I wanted to mourn my sister’s death in private – to be away from the pressures that professional football provided at such a time in my life,” were his words yesterday – and I commend him for it.

As much as I wanted to believe that nobody would be a better manager at our beloved Pompey than Shaun Innes, I am now of the opinion that Daniel Knight has the ability and professionalism to be able to lead our club into a new era.

Long Live Pompey!

“Looks like somebody did a good job yesterday,” Portsmouth’s Italian director, Daniele Di Matteo, humbly admitted, placing the local newspaper down onto the board room table. The Italian had disagreed with Kozlov’s decision to hire Daniel Knight, believing that a foreign manager would be more suited to spending such a substantial transfer budget – after all, Chelsea’s Portuguese manager Jaime had managed it with aplomb. Two league titles don’t lie.

“He did better than you think, Matteo – the local papers here are worse than the tabloids. They always seem to think they know what’s best for their ‘beloved club’ and disagree with pretty much every signing made – so for Daniel to have already won them over is a major coup in itself,” managing director Martin Carthy stated, having known what the local papers were like around Portsmouth – after all, he had been a director at the south coast club for four years.

“If that’s the case Martin, I guess we can thank William Adams for this good press – if he hadn’t asked why Danny retired, Blake’s column would’ve probably contained the drivel that he’s a selfish w***** who wants a nice retirement bonus,” Kirill Kozlov admitted, realising that the reporter from The Sun newspaper had done them a huge favour – the fact that the truth was now out regarding Daniel Knight’s retirement would hopefully endear the new manager to the Pompey fans. That was always a good thing.

“But since that’s not the case, none of us really have anything to worry about,” Nicholas Reid stated, nonchalantly glancing over to the report. The South African director seemed just as impressed at the new manager’s achievement to win over the local press – that and the fact that he was committed to the club 100%. “All we need now is for him to be as good as you’ve said he is – then we’ll be coming out smelling of roses,” he joked, dragging the newspaper over so that he could read the other stories.

“Well, I guess we’ll figure that out soon enough, Nick,” Kirill admitted, looking over towards the board room door – almost as if he was expecting somebody. “I asked Daniel to meet us all here this morning. I’m as curious as you are in respect to what his opinion of the squad is – and if he plans to improve it at all,” he added, watching as the door slowly opened to reveal Daniel Knight – who stared at his chairman with a grin that suggested he was raring to start his work at Fratton Park.

“Improving the squad is precisely what I want to do, sir – I don’t want to be in a relegation battle.”

End Chapter 2

Once again, this story will be taking a week long break.

minisav · March 6, 2009

Great stuff :thup:

I'll wait patiently

tenthreeleader · March 7, 2009

very rarely had they seen a footballer with a sense of apropos.

Congratulations on being one of the few writers who can use that word in correct style. Very nice, as usual.

gavrenwick · March 9, 2009

As good as ever, Mr Viper. I have to say, love the newspaper article, its just something I can imagine reading for real. And as for that word...apropos..care to enlighten this fool as to its meaning?

Coop624 · March 25, 2009

Still waiting on the update eagerly..

simon07 · March 25, 2009

Top story Viper

viperk1 · July 11, 2009

10-3 - What do you expect? You taught me that word

gavrenwick - thank you very much.

coop - you wait no longer.

simon07 - glad to know it's appreciated. Welcome to the story, simon

I am aware that I said the date of restarting Knight was the 20th of July - however, I decided that I won't hold you up any longer. We now return to your scheduled programmes

Chapter 3

Some Things Never Change

Sunday 25th June 2006: Fratton Park (Board Room), Portsmouth

“I’ll make this simple for you, sir – take a look at this folder of the first team,” Daniel stated, handing him the first team folder that Aaron had given him last Tuesday – albeit with a few additions. For instance, the first two pages now contained his own beliefs as to which players were of Premiership quality – and where they would fit in with the new formation he wanted to use. ‘I’m sure you’ll notice something wrong with it,’ he thought, knowing that he had left out quite a few players in the formations – because he believed that they simply weren’t good enough.

First XI

GK: Bryn Wright

DR: Angel Mirchev

DL: Paul Spooner

DC: Pete Primus

DC: Karl Lowe

DM: -

MC: Markus Keim

MC: Camille Rubach

AMR: -

AML: Sam Thompson

ST: Roy Champion

Second XI:

GK: Michael Gibbons

DR: Ariel Rizzi

DL: -

DC: Moussa Bayiha

DC: -

DM: -

MC: Thomas Scotto

MC: Russell Hindmarch

AMR: -

AML: -

ST: Ovidiu Barbu

“According to this, the squad seems a little thin on the ground, Danny – I’m sure there are more than fourteen players in the first team, right?” Kirill questioned, having picked up on the lack of wingers and defensive midfielders in both the first and second eleven. “I mean, I remember seeing a Matt Dixon and a Samir Deghiche in our match against Wigan last season,” he admitted, thinking back to the match that surprisingly cemented Portsmouth’s Premiership status for this season.

“That’s true – I have missed out quite a few players that are, in reality, in the first team squad,” Daniel stated, seemingly glad that his chairman had noticed the problem – at least he now knew the Russian had at least some kind of knowledge of the squad that Shaun Innes had used during last season. “However, I don’t believe the likes of Matthew de Graaf, Matt Dixon, Jak Willis or Graham Anderson are ever going to be Premiership quality players – so that is why they are missing from the list,” he explained, watching as Kozlov’s expression turned from confusion to admiration.

“We can only assume that you have some transfer targets in mind to fill these gaps?” Daniele Di Matteo queried, taking a good long look at the folder – the lack of Premiership quality wingers at the club was a certain worry for the Italian director. “It’s no good telling us that there is a lack of Premiership quality players at the club if you’re not going to do anything about it,” he stated, eagerly anticipating the response from the new Portsmouth manager – the Italian knew that Knight had won over the local press, but the new manager hadn’t won him over yet.

“You seem to have a very low opinion of me, Mr. Di Matteo,” Daniel nonchalantly admitted, taking a seat at the board room table – he didn’t really mind that the Italian director was sceptical of his appointment as manager. “Either way, I do have a player in mind – a potential Croatian international right winger by the name of Lovre Koksa,” he stated, causing Nicholas Reid to start chuckling to himself – clearly the South African had seen a joke that Daniel hadn’t. “What’s the matter, Mr. Reid – something funny?” Daniel asked, retrieving the folder from its round journey around the board room table.

“I’m sorry, Daniel – but think about his name for just one moment,” Nicholas admitted, writing the name down on a piece of scrap paper – before seemingly putting lines through some of the letters. “If you take away the ‘r’ from his first name and the ‘a’ from his surname,” the South African began, watching Daniel’s expression change to near-horror as he began to think about what he was hearing. “Put the word ‘I’ in front and the you’ve got ‘I Love K-‘“

“Yes, thank you very much for that little insight, Nicholas – but no thank you,” Daniel stated, managing to stop the South African before his potential signing lost all of the credibility that he had. “I have faith in Lovre’s ability – so much that I’ve already faxed a bid off to Dinamo Zagreb that matches their valuation of him. One million four hundred thousand pounds sterling,” the new manager admitted, surprising the entire board of directors. They had all expected him to turn up looking for advice – not taking the initiative to get things done.

“If he’s as good as you say he is, then that’s fine – though he’ll need to be referred as something else instead of Lovre Koksa,” Daniele admitted, knowing that the new manager didn’t want one of his potential new players to be the butt of every ‘cock’ joke in England. “In terms of more transfer deals, I’m sure that my home country would be a suitable place to look at – it has been stained by scandal and I do believe that players will want to move away from their clubs,” the Italian director admitted, referring to the Scudetto scandal that had rocked Italy’s football leagues – which resulted in the relegation of Juventus to Serie B, amongst the penalties for the other clubs involved.

“Duly noted – I’ll let Jamie and the scouts take a look at the clubs affected,” Daniel admitted, knowing that reputation in the football world stood for diddly-squat when a scandal as big as this reared its ugly head. “I assume you want me to take a look at the talent in South Africa, don’t you Mr. Reid?” he questioned as the South African director seemingly began to speak – though Daniel had clearly taken the words out of the director’s mouth. Nicholas simply nodded, having made his point to the new manager.

“Anyway, I must ask one more thing to you, Mr. Kozlov,” Daniel stated to the board members, piquing their curiosity – not that the admission was anything majorly important to the club in next few months. “I’d like to see a new training ground in place that’s nearer to Fratton Park – I’m already sick of having to travel to a Southampton post-code to train my squad,” he requested, remembering back to the times he was a player – the ‘hardcore’ Southampton fans had taken upon themselves to egg the Portsmouth coach as it left before most matches.

“Duly noted, Danny – and you have my word that something will be done about the training facilities,” the chairman admitted, having seen the training ground for himself – needless to say, he hadn’t been impressed. The pitches had more bobbles than a woolly hat, and Portsmouth didn’t even own the place – not that they’d want to buy it, mind. “Now, I can only assume that you’ve got a lot of work to do now – feel free to take your leave,” Kirill stated, handing the first team squad folder back to his manager.

“Thank you, sir.”

SCIAG · July 11, 2009

Fantastic, Knight is back \o/

Great work Viperk!

minisav · July 11, 2009

Good to see this back. Great stuff. Keep it up :thup:

tenthreeleader · July 12, 2009

Well done, viper. I enjoy reading your work -- glad to see you return to this

viperk1 · July 13, 2009

SCIAG, minisav, 10-3 - nice to know that even after being on hiatus for four months, you're still willing to follow this

Also, a milestone has been reached - 1000 views! I'm so grateful to you all

Monday 26th June 2006: Wellington Sports Ground, Eastleigh

“You’ve made one hell of an impression already, Danny,” Aaron stated, realising just how small the first team squad now was – the Portsmouth manager had demoted five players to the reserve team, before transfer listing a total of nine players. Quite frankly, Caruso almost thought of it as a case of madness – however, Portsmouth’s weekly wage budget had only £140,000 available to spend on new players. Whilst that sounded like a lot, the calibre of players needed to improve Portsmouth would probably be requesting £30,000 per week or more – so the dead wood needed to be gotten rid of.

“I am aware that some of the players may not be too keen on me already, but some of the wages they’re on are ridiculous – and that needs to be cut down as soon as possible,” Daniel admitted, taking a quick look through the new reserve team folder – and he was spot on. For instance, reserve right winger John Holmes, who had already been transfer listed by Shaun Innes, was earning £25,000 per week – which was totally stupid for somebody with next to no place in Portsmouth Football Club.

“So that explains the two bids we had for Golokolosov, then?” Aaron queried, having taken a look at the two faxes that came in earlier that morning from Championship club Leeds United and Ligue 1 club Lille. Ukrainian centre-back Valeriy Golokolosov, at thirty-three, was clearly over the hill in terms of ousting Pete Primus and Karl Lowe in the centre of defence – and Daniel knew that at his age, Valeriy wasn’t going to be a good quality player for much longer without regular matches. It was only fair for him to give the Ukrainian a chance at first-team football elsewhere – and the £170,000 potential transfer fee certainly wouldn’t do any harm.

“That’s right – Valeriy deserves first team football, in my opinion. Regardless of who takes him, I reckon he’ll get that,” Daniel replied, knowing that Leeds United definitely had a squad that wasn’t a patch on Golokolosov’s ability – whether the same was true for Lille, he could only guess. “Anyway, get everybody into the tactics suite – there’s no point in using one formation for training and another for matches,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, trying to shift the attention onto the here and now – Golokolosov’s transfer wouldn’t go through until the first of July anyway, so there was no point deliberating on it any longer.

“Yes boss,” his assistant responded, watching the players warming up outside on their first day back after their post-season break – naturally, they were all bound to be a little rusty. “Welcome back lads! We want to see everybody into the tactics suite before we start training!” Aaron politely yelled to the tracksuit-clad players out on the pitches, pointing towards the building that Daniel had just walked into. Not that the players needed that pointing out, mind - everybody knew where the tactics suite was.

“Should be great to see Daniel again after all these years,” centre-back Karl Lowe admitted, having played alongside the new Portsmouth manager when he was much younger. Things had clearly changed since those final years of the twentieth century – for one, Portsmouth were now in the top flight of the English football ladder thanks to their runaway Championship victory in 2003. There was also the obvious fact that Daniel Knight was now the manager of the club, rather than a player.

“He’ll be making you call him the gaffer, Karl – no special treatment for you just because you were friends all those years ago,” Paul Spooner mocked in a sarcastic tone, seemingly begging for any kind of reaction the experienced centre-back – not that he got one. “Either way, I wonder just how he wants us to play,” the internationally-capped left-back admitted, unsure as to whether he’d be totally necessary – after all, if Knight was going to use a narrow formation, his usefulness would be next to zero.

“Speculate all you want, Spooner – you won’t know what he intends to do unless you shift your backside into the tactics suite!” Aaron Caruso yelled from the door as he held it open for the remaining two players not inside the room – clearly he had become slightly impatient at Lowe and Spooner for lagging behind the rest of the squad. “Either way, welcome back lads,” the assistant manager stated, sharing a handshake with both players as they made their way to the tactics suite - where their new boss was waiting.

Daniel Knight had expected the players to be extremely raucous and unruly on their return from their holiday – sort of like the Cosham Knights when he first founded the club. However, the squad all appeared to be ready to hang onto every word that he was likely to say – that was one problem solved already. “First of all I would like to welcome you all back to training – and I hope that you’ve all had a good holiday,” the manager began, before immediately unveiling the new formation that he intended Portsmouth to use over the next season.

The players weren’t quite sure what to think in terms of the formation structure – quite a few were under the impression that it was a very wide 4-3-3 with one main striker. On the other hand, the rest believed that it was a 4-5-1 with a very staggered midfield. However, they had all picked up on the vital ingredients missing to make the formation work – which Roy Champion duly informed his manager about. “Um, don’t you need wingers to make this formation work, sir?” the English striker questioned, pointing out the fact that Knight had demoted all-but-one of the wingers to the Portsmouth Reserves squad.

“Well spotted, Roy – we are, as you say, missing a natural winger to be able to fully utilise this formation,” Daniel admitted, confirming Roy’s speculation that the formation wouldn’t be totally successful without a player was naturally gifted along the wing. “Thankfully, we have nearly two months to deal with that little predicament, don’t we?” the Portsmouth manager admitted, citing that the squad didn’t need to fully prepared until their opening fixture of the Premiership – though Daniel knew full well that they needed to be completely ready by that time.

Anybody who isn’t prepared against Chelsea would be taken to the cleaners.

minisav · July 13, 2009

Had this subscribed and was so pleased to see it was back. I've only subscribed to 3 stories and they're all of a high standard so was happy to see the third back

Coop624 · July 13, 2009

Yep, I´m back on board Viper.. Hoping the next part of the ride is as good as the last

viperk1 · July 15, 2009

minisav - that's great to hear! So you'll see this post then

coop - glad to see you back

Tuesday 27th June 2006: Wellington Sports Ground, Eastleigh

The players had taken the tactical changes surprisingly well – Daniel had expected them to be struggling to adapt to the formation he had set out. That was mostly because Portsmouth has been sticking to the tried, tested and most overly used formation in the Premiership – the 4-4-2 – for nearly fifteen years. As a result, the radical change to tactics would’ve definitely been a shock to the system – so the fact that the players had adapted to their new situation certainly pleased the Portsmouth manager.

However, Daniel felt that change was necessary at Fratton Park. The 4-4-2 formation clearly hadn’t worked quite as well in the Premiership for Shaun Innes as it had in the Championship – the influx of foreign managers in the Premiership had resulted in many different formations and tactical strengths and weaknesses for the English top-flight to deal with. In Daniel’s eyes, the typically English 4-4-2 just wouldn’t hack it in a Premiership slowly filling up with foreigners.

He only had one problem – for his new tactic to work, he needed a Premiership-class winger or two. Under the recommendation of the board, Daniel agreed to ship Lee Neill and Yohan Fabre off to Italy and South Africa respectively – hopefully the Serie A and the Castle Premiership would provide some kind of revelation or undiscovered talent that would improve Portsmouth’s fortunes. However, he didn’t expect either scout to return with a solid lead for him to pursue until the start of July, at best – after all, Daniel had only sent them off two days ago.

So to see the Ulsterman’s name appear on his mobile was a surprise, to say the least. “Morning, Lee – I didn’t expect you to have a player for me for another few days at least,” Daniel admitted, listening for any kind of response from his scout regarding a top-class winger – not that it came, mind. The noise coming from the other side of the call was more like hesitant breathing than anything else – either he was struggling to find able players, or something else was wrong.

Naturally, it was the latter. “I’ve not called to offer a player out to you, sir – I’m so sorry,” the Ulsterman nervously stated, continuing his heavy breathing down the telephone line– Lee clearly didn’t want to have to deliver his information to his new boss. “West Ham have sent me a contract,” he finally uttered one minute after his initial apology, causing Daniel to curse under his breath – the last thing he needed was his Premiership rivals over in London trying to steal his best staff.

“Well at the moment, you’re a Portsmouth scout – so please keep going with your job in Italy,” Daniel requested, trying to defuse the situation as best as he could without angering his scout – the last thing he needed was Lee Neill ditching him in favour of West Ham. “I’ll ask the negotiators to send you a contract as soon as possible – then it’s up to you as to where your future lies,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, waiting for the Ulsterman’s acknowledgement before saying his goodbyes.

“How flaming typical,” Daniel cursed himself, finally realising the situation – the Premiership clubs now saw Portsmouth as a happy hunting ground due to his appointment. ‘They all seem to assume that now I’m here, I’ll happily let my staff and players go for a pittance,’ he thought, watching as the players continued to practice in their new formation. ‘They can think again,’ the ex-striker thought, before having his thoughts disturbed – by the sound of his phone going off again.

“Danny, I’ve got some bad news for you,” the voice on the other end of the phone admitted – Danny instantly recognised it as head physiotherapist Jamie Burns. That could mean only one thing to the Portsmouth boss – one of his players had been badly injured during training and would be out for a long time. Or at least, that was until he looked out at the training pitch – and saw every player that Portsmouth had on its books. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been offered a contract elsewhere,” he admitted, seeming downcast and dejected.

Daniel, for the second time today, cursed his poor luck – once again, a Premiership rival had decided to place its hand into the Portsmouth cookie jar. However, the Pompey boss now the intention of catching whoever it was in the act – and hopefully trap their Premiership rival’s hand in the jar too. “Talk to our negotiators – I want you to stay, to be honest. By the way, who made the offer?” he asked, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him – but he was clearly going to regret it. Once again, the team behind the controversy was West Ham United.

“What is it with West Ham and poaching my staff? Surely they’ve got the right kind of people already there?” he muttered to himself moments after ending the call – he was starting to become really annoyed by the East London Premiership club. Despite the fact that West Ham had only been promoted into the Premiership in 2005, they had performed significantly better than Portsmouth last season, earning seventeen points more – which was good enough for ninth in the table. Pompey, on the other hand, finished seventeenth.

Once again, Daniel’s thoughts were disrupted by the rumbling from his mobile phone – but this time, he failed to recognise the number. “Hello, I would like to make enquiry into the availability of Karl Lowe,” the voice indicated in a broad Cockney accent. Clearly, the person on the other end of the phone line had picked a wrong time to start enquiring – after all, the Portsmouth manager had only just started trying to fend off West Ham United from signing two of his vital staff members.

Naturally, it infuriated Daniel no end. Whilst two enquiries were bad enough, a third one on the same day simply placed the final nail into the caller’s deepening tomb. “Karl Lowe is an indispensible member of this club – so he is going absolutely nowhere,” he angrily stated, trying to not to raise his voice too much – he didn’t want the players knowing about the situation at hand. “I’m already sick of having to deal with you people – you all seem to think that my inexperience means I’ll let my staff leave without any fuss,” Daniel admitted, becoming tempted to instantly end the conversation – though admittedly, he was rather curious as to who was interested in Karl Lowe.

“Well, I humbly apologise for my foolishness,” the person admitted, seeming truly apologetic on the other side of the phone line – though that was probably because Daniel seemed very irritable as he spoke. “If you ever want to return the favour, West Ham will be awaiting your call,” he added, before hastily ending the conversation – the West Ham manager, Matt Gardner, clearly didn’t want a verbal tirade being launched his way. Considering what he had just put Daniel Knight through, who could blame him?

“Can’t there be any good news today?” the Portsmouth manager muttered to himself, placing his phone back in his pocket – silently hoping that he wouldn’t have to answer it again today. Not that it was ever going to be like that, of course. Fifteen minutes later the phone rumbled again, irritating the very life out of Daniel’s body – he was expecting another member of staff to be calling, having been offered a contract from another Premiership rival.

However, he was pleasantly surprised – it was only a text message from the chairman, Kirill Kozlov. There were only six words to the Russian’s message, but they were words that Daniel had not expected to see for some time yet. The best thing was that it was good news:

Lovre Koksa is at Fratton Park.

minisav · July 15, 2009

Of course. Great post. Bloody West Ham. Hopefully you stuff them in the league :thup:

Offspring8 · July 16, 2009

Its good to know that this story is getting updates again its one of the best around IMO, great work mate :thup:

viperk1 · July 17, 2009

minisav - the Hammers are second on my fixture list. I'll do my best

Offspring8 - good to know that's what you think

Wednesday 28th June 2006: Cricketer’s Arms, Eastleigh

“We should’ve done this a long time ago, Danny,” Karl Lowe admitted, downing the whole glass in one swift motion. Of course, it was impossible for the centre-back to get drunk from the heavy drinking he was doing today – alcohol was strictly off limits to the Portsmouth skipper, mostly his manager wouldn’t be too impressed if he did drink heavily. The fact that Lowe had never touched a drop of alcohol in his life may have also had something do with it, though.

“You’re right – it’s been far too long since we last spoke to each other,” Daniel admitted, beckoning for another two pints of whatever they were drinking – not that it made too much of a difference. The fact remained that Knight and Lowe had not been in contact for over half a decade – and definitely needed to catch up on all the missed years. “How’s your brother doing now then?” he asked upon acceptance of his latest pint, referring to Karl’s younger brother – who, surprisingly, was also a Portsmouth centre-back whilst Knight was at the club.

“To be honest, Danny, I don’t want to know – stupid sod left Portsmouth for the ‘riches’ of Manchester,” the Pompey skipper spat out, disgusted that his own brother would abandon the club that turned his life around. “He now earns triple of what I do – and of course, my parents are all ‘Ricky-this’ and ‘Ricky-that’. Mostly because he gives them a new car every birthday – last year it was a bloody Jaguar,” Karl muttered, still seeming infuriated by his the lack of loyalty shown by his own flesh and blood.

“I wouldn’t be angry at your brother, Karl – what he did with his own career is up to him. What I see it as is that he was motivated to do well for Portsmouth so he’d attract a bigger club – and he was unafraid to move away from his home to play on the biggest European stages. Based on my own experiences, I’d recommend that you think about this – he may be here now, but he won’t be around forever,” Daniel advised, remembering back to the times when he argued with his little sister, Danica – he missed those days so badly now.

“Look at you being philosophical! Didn’t know you had it in you,” Karl smirked, slightly surprised at the change in personality that his ex-team-mate had undergone since retiring from football – though the death of a relative was an easy explanation for such revolutionary thinking. “I guess you’re right though – we won’t be around forever, so I may as well talk things over with him,” the Portsmouth centre-back admitted, dragging his pint glass across the table.

“Anyway, are you planning to take your coaching badges then? You need to be working towards a UEFA Pro Licence to be the manager of Portsmouth for longer than the start of the season,” Karl Lowe questioned, clearly unaware that his former Portsmouth team-mate was already several steps ahead – the three UEFA Licence certificates were now in a box underneath his bed. “You’ve already got them, haven’t you?” the Portsmouth skipper assumed, needing only one glance at Daniel’s grinning face to realise that the ‘coaching badges’ hurdle had been crossed long ago.

“Yeah, I’ve got my Pro Licence. Keeping it as a secret from everybody was easy – my dad thought I was taking a holiday when I went to Milan for my study visit,” Daniel smirked, taking a small drink from his new pint glass. “What was even better was that none of the media hounds really gave a damn about it – retiring from football allowed me to get on with my own life,” he added, knowing that it had given him far more freedom than he had ever managed whilst he was a player – and a significantly lower profile in the world of football.

“Give me a couple of years and I might just be able to tell you what I think about that,” Karl joked, drinking his entire pint glass in one sitting – somebody clearly was still thirsty. At thirty-two, Karl Lowe was certainly nearing the end of his football career – and retirement would soon be on the Portsmouth skipper’s mind in the not too distant future. “So what is this that I’ve been hearing about a new signing already?” he asked, trying not to focus too much on his retirement plans – they weren’t for some time yet.

“We’ve just entered contract negotiations with Lovre Koksa – if you’ve been watching the World Cup, you’ll know exactly who I’m on about,” Daniel admitted in hushed tones – as Eastleigh was in a Southampton post code area, he wasn’t too keen on letting the locals know about Portsmouth’s new signings. Not that it mattered, really – Southampton were still in the Championship and of no concern to their local rivals. “I reckon he’ll sign, to be honest – which means we need to find him a place to live,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, knowing that the Croatian right winger had no living quarters of his own in England.

“Well, since Ricky moved out, we’ve had a spare room where I live – he’s open to take that whilst he’s searching for a place of his own,” Karl informed his manager, knowing that the room had remained unused for many years now – after all, Ricky moved to Manchester back in 2002, when Portsmouth was still a Championship club. “Though I guess we’re not going to be able to accommodate every new signing like this, are we Danny?” he questioned, realising that Daniel would probably be signing more than one player during the transfer window.

“Too right we’re not going to be able to do that with everybody – but letting Lovre take your spare room sounds like a good idea for the time being,” Daniel admitted, trying to think of a plausible way of ensuring all of the Portsmouth players had a place to live. “It’ll be hard to find accommodation for everybody, though. Short of building a housing estate in the middle of Portsmouth, there’s not a lot else I can think of,” he admitted, taking another drink from his pint glass.

“Maybe that isn’t quite as bad an idea as you think it is – if every Portsmouth player had a house in that estate, it’d allow everybody to get to know each other much better,” Karl stated, pointing out a healthy benefit to Daniel’s spur-of-the-moment idea – after all, it would hopefully result in the team gelling much better on the pitch. Whether that would improve their chances of earning more than forty points in the Premiership was a different matter. “Anyway, I reckon you should go talk to the man at the top about this – I’m sure he’d be happy to bankroll this,” he added, finishing off his drink – the Portsmouth captain was clearly keen to see this idea take shape.

“You mean Kirill Kozlov, right? Yeah, I’ll talk to him,” Daniel stated, finally finishing off his own drink. “Anyway, I think it’s best we head a little closer to home – we’re making the locals a little edgy,” he whispered, taking a quick look around the pub – and both Portsmouth men noticed the shifty looks from the other people within the building. After all, Southampton and Portsmouth were fierce rivals – despite the divisional gap between the two clubs. When the beer glasses started heading in their direction, the two men got the hint – and were probably never going to come back again.

Not with that kind of reception, anyway.

darkson01 · July 17, 2009

totaly genius! This is one of the best reads (let alone fm stories) i've read in years. I really hope the work needed for these entires doesn't over consume your life

well done! Im willing to help support you and these epic tale if you ever should need it

p.s ive have just sat at work for almost 3 hours reading these! Total gripping!

viperk1 · July 19, 2009

darkson - That's some praise there. It doesn't consume my life too much

Thursday 29th June 2006: Fratton Park (Board Room), Portsmouth

“I can now understand why you said you wanted new training facilities that were a little closer to home…” Kirill Kozlov admitted as he strode into the board room, drenched in booze and covered in eggs – needless to say, he was going to need a fresh pair of clothes sooner or later. “Anyway, you told me you had an idea, Daniel?” the Russian chairman quizzed the football manager – Daniel had phoned him up just after arriving home from Eastleigh, informing him of the idea he and Karl had come up with in the Cricketer’s Arms.

“That’s right, sir,” Daniel stated, trying desperately not to laugh at his chairman’s predicament. The generally spotless black frock coat that Kirill generally wore was now a dishevelled mess with a golden tint – not to mention that his entire body would now smell of…whatever the Eastleigh locals threw at him. “Why did you go to Eastleigh, anyway?” he asked, heading over to the water cooler to get a cup of water for himself – and for the chairman, if he wanted one.

“You told me that the training facilities weren’t quite up to scratch – so I went to check them myself,” Kirill admitted, trying to clear away some of the egg yolks dripping down his face – and only succeeding in getting more of them onto his frock coat. “A few people saw me leaving the facility, and proceeded to throw eggs at me – so I hid for cover in a pub,” he added, placing the coat on the floor – he realised that there would now be egg yolks all over the chair if he were to sit down with it on. “I think it was called the Cricketer’s Arms,” the Russian stated.

“Yeah, that may explain why you smell of booze. I was in there with Karl yesterday – they gave us similar treatment,” Daniel smirked, taking a seat at the board room table. “When we started using those facilities in 1999, leaving any time later than about two pm usually meant being pelted with eggs by the Southampton fans,” he added, pointing at his watch – which read the time to be half past four. Needless to say, the Russian chairman had left far too late – and had suffered the consequences.

“Couldn’t you have told me this earlier, Danny?” Kirill queried, ignoring the smell of booze emanating from his trousers – he certainly wasn’t going to take those off right now. ‘I guess there’s not a lot I can do about it now, can I?’ he thought to himself, taking a quick look at his directors – who clearly were failing to hold in their own thoughts on their chairman’s situation. “Either way, my situation is of little importance right now – what is this ‘club-improving’ idea that you and Karl had?” the Russian admitted, knowing that the future of the club was far more important than his humiliating situation.

“To be honest, I didn’t know you were going to take a look,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, shrugging his shoulders – he couldn’t read the chairman’s mind, after all. “The idea, sir, is to help solve the problem of house-hunting for players that transfer to the club from abroad,” he informed, clearly piquing the interest of the board members – though it was clear that the only reason his chairman was interested was that he needed a reason to ignore the current mess he was in.

“The plan is to create some kind of housing estate within the Portsmouth area that is readily available to accommodate new and existing players in the club – and if the new training facilities do become a reality, they could be placed there too,” Daniel continued, watching as the board members tagged onto the plan – needless to say, they were very impressed by the prospect of not having to cross in the SE postcode area to go to the training facilities. Especially the chairman – after all, he wouldn’t have to deal with the eggs and booze being thrown at him.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, Danny – I guess you do have some logic in your head,” Daniele Di Matteo admitted, sarcastically popping in the final comment – clearly he now had no qualms with the ex-striker’s appointment as manager. “I’m joking, don’t worry,” the Italian admitted after watching Daniel’s expression change into one of dirtiest looks possible. “Either way, it sounds like a grand idea, Danny – though where are you going to place such an estate?” he questioned, bringing up a very strong flaw in the Portsmouth manager’s plan – he hadn’t thought of a location for his plan.

“It’s simple enough, I guess – we look around the Portsmouth area and find a suitable place. Then we just make our plans – and hope that the council grant us permission to start work,” managing director Martin Carthy offered, knowing exactly how the system worked in the UK – mostly because he had tried to get into the property redevelopment market. It had been relatively successful – for a year or two, anyway. “I guess we all think it’s a good idea, right?” the Englishman asked, looking around the room – naturally, everybody nodded. It really was a good idea – and would save on public transport fees, at least.

“Well, it makes sense to start looking for somewhere for this place to base the plans on – I guess one of you fine gentlemen will take care of that, right?” Daniel admitted, knowing that his position with Portsmouth Football Club meant he was up to his ears with other work – like getting players to join the club in the first place. “By the way…Kirill, you may want to go clean up and change your clothes – you’re starting to make this place smell like a pub,” he smirked, finally taking notice of the rancid smell taking hold on the board room – mostly because he was about to leave.

“I’ll be removing all this stuff from my clothes – I’ll be back in an hour.”

viperk1 · July 21, 2009

Friday 30th June 2006: Fratton Park (Physiotherapy & Medical Unit), Portsmouth

“You called, lads?” Daniel asked, poking his head through the Medical Unit door in search of the head physiotherapist – the physio team had requested his presence there as soon as possible. However, it clearly had nothing to do with an injured player within the Portsmouth ranks – after all, Daniel had been over in Eastleigh with the squad since the start of their regular pre-season training sessions. With no injuries to report regarding the current squad, Daniel had a slight hunch as to what the physiotherapy team wanted him for – and for once, it was all good news.

“You timed that well, Danny – we’ve just finished,” Joe Hendley admitted, casually leaning back on his chair to make eye contact with the Portsmouth manager – and the mood in the room clearly was one of success. “This’ll be music to your ears, I’m sure – Mr. Koksa has just had his medical. Needless to say, he passed with flying colours,” he gleefully stated, giving a solitary wink of approval – the physio was thoroughly pleased that things were finally seeming to be looking up for Portsmouth Football Club, after several years of mid-table mediocrity and relegation dogfights.

“For Mr. Koksa, passing a medical is only half the story – he needs a work permit to be able to work here,” Jamie Burns admitted, reminding Daniel that Lovre Koksa’s transfer from Dinamo Zagreb to Portsmouth wasn’t quite finished yet – as the right winger’s home country, Croatia, was not a member of the EU, a work permit was needed for him to play in England. However, Koksa’s lack of international caps could prove a stumbling block in earning the work permit he needed.

“He’s a quality player, Jamie – you can’t forget that. He wouldn’t be getting called up to the Croatian national squad if he was a bad player,” Daniel stated, reminding his head physio that Lovre Koksa had in fact been in Germany for quite some time during the month of June – at least, until the Croatians were knocked out of the World Cup. The Portsmouth manager was clearly under the impression that Koksa was on the fringes of earning his first international cap – which Daniel believed was reason enough to give the Croatian a work permit.

“I … good player? But I no … no good for league. Your … league,” Lovre admitted sombrely in horribly broken English, having obviously overheard the entire conversation taking place merely yards away. The Croatian believed that whilst he had set his home country alight in terms of his ability, the English league required players of far more talent than he possessed – clearly the fact that he had been overlooked during the World Cup group stages had knocked his confidence. Especially since the players that did play were all playing for non-Croatian clubs.

“Lovre – if I thought that, you wouldn’t be here,” Daniel admitted, seemingly surprised that the player standing in front of him had understood the entire conversation he had just had with his physio team – though it was crystal clear that understanding a language and speaking it were completely different things. “You’re a great player, and I really want to see you in a Portsmouth shirt,” he added, trying to convince the Croatian right winger that the Premiership was where he belonged.

“I … good for league? I … deserve to … be in club?” Lovre questioned, hoping that he had fully understood everything that the Portsmouth manager was saying – at least, that’s who he thought the man standing in front of him was. “You … kind man. Who … you are?” the Croatian asked, watching as the person nodded his head in response to his original queries. ‘He has faith in me – I’m definitely coming to the right club,’ Lovre thought, his brain wirring to the tongue of his native country – things finally seemed to be looking up.

“My name is Daniel Knight – I am the manager of this club,” Daniel admitted, offering a hand of friendship to the Croatian right winger. The Portsmouth manager knew that Lovre was moving to a country where he knew nobody – so helping him settle into life in England properly was pivotal to getting the best out of him on the football pitch. “Trust me - compared with the players we have, you’re world class,” he added, knowing that his back-up was in the form of Matt Dixon – who wouldn’t even make the first team in Sheffield United.

“Hey boss – you may want to come and take a look at this,” James Parsons stated, beckoning him to join him in front of the television set installed in the medical unit. The physio team’s channel of choice was, naturally, Sky Sports News – and with the opening of the transfer window just around the corner, the ticker tape at the bottom of the screen was showing some transfers that would go ahead tomorrow. Clearly there were some clubs that were overly keen to boost their squad.

The first one that caught his eye was one that was very close to home – Lille had made it public that they had acquired the signature of Portsmouth’s Ukrainian centre-back Valeriy Golokolosov – who had chosen the French club over Leeds United. ‘At least he’ll get game time – that’s the important thing,’ Daniel thought, knowing that Golokolosov had no chance of displacing Primus and Lowe from the centre of defence – but wasn’t going to have too much trouble getting games at Lille.

Another player that would’ve had no trouble getting games for any club was 37 year old midfielder Marian Constantin – who was still a world class player, despite his age. The Romanian veteran had been playing for Bolton Wanderers – but a £675,000 bid from Spanish giants Sevilla would see him moving closer to home. ‘At least I’m not going to have to face him when we play Bolton,’ Daniel admitted to himself, believing that Bolton had punched above their weight last season with their 8th place finish – mostly because of Constantin’s dominance in midfield.

After viewing some early transfers from overseas and the lower English leagues, one final Premiership transfer appeared – and once again, a player was heading far closer to home than he had been for some time. The player in question was a versatile Scottish full-back Steve McKinlay, who would be moving to Watford tomorrow from Korean side Suwon for an £825,000 fee. It was believed that the Scotsman wouldn’t be in the first team yet – though at twenty, there was still time for to improve.

“Am I … on that screen?” Lovre questioned, having joined the Portsmouth staff members at the television screen – clearly he wasn’t aware that only completed transfer deals were likely to be on the news. As the small matter of a work permit was necessary for the Croatian, the transfer wasn’t quite complete.

“Not yet, Lovre – but we have another small problem regarding your name,” Daniel admitted, trying not to offend the Croatian in any possible way. However, it seemed that Lovre’s surprisingly high understanding of the English language meant he already knew what the Portsmouth manager was talking about – he didn’t want to be butt of every ‘cock’ joke in England. “My assistant and I have come up with a suitable nickname for you – that we hope that you will want to use,” he admitted, writing it down onto a piece of paper.

“You say… C … Ca …” Lovre stuttered, reading the small note as best as he could. However, whilst Daniel Knight was a legend on the football pitch, his handwriting was about as untidy as a teenager’s bedroom after three weeks of not cleaning it. Though that was almost natural with football players – all they usually needed a pen for was to sign autographs. “How … you … say it?” Lovre asked, clearly giving up trying to figure it out – though Daniel was, naturally, on hand to give him a helping hand.

“It’s pronounced…as Kaká.”

gavrenwick · July 21, 2009

I would love to meet a Croatian called Kaka. Is he as good as the real one?

Coop624 · July 23, 2009

Big shoes to fill..

viperk1 · July 23, 2009

gav and Coop - considering the real one doesn't exist in the game world, the question is not worth answering. Thanks for the comments, though

Saturday 1st July 2006: Juventus Center, Vinovo

Note: (Spoken in Italian – Spoken in English)

“Andrea! In the middle!” the striker yelled, frantically trying to get his team-mate’s attention. The man in possession of the ball on the left side of the pitch couldn’t hear the call from his team-mate – either that or he had chosen not to hear it. Ignoring every sound around him, the player dribbled into the penalty area, before trapping the ball with his left foot. “Andrea! Pass the ball, damn it!” the striker yelled again, watching the defender in front of Andrea go to dispossess him.

However, Andrea had duped the defender hook, line and sinker – due to his speed when coming into the penalty area, the Italian was able to use his right foot to pull the ball away from the onrushing defender. Heading towards the six yard box, the keeper ran towards Andrea, expecting him to try and aim for the far post. Instead, the Italian had jinked towards the byline, before unleashing a left footed drive towards the near post. Naturally, the keeper was dumbfounded, and found that he was unable to stop the ball crossing the line.

“Andrea! Why the hell didn’t you pass the ball? I was in a better position!” the striker yelled – clearly he wasn’t impressed by his team-mate deciding to go it alone. The fact that Franco Baldo had already scored five goals of the twenty put past their opponents during the training match seemed to make no bit of difference to him – though that was due to being up against the worst players in the reserve team. Franco was a youth product from the Juventus academy – but was only the reserve team captain, due to the unbelievably high quality of players in the first team.

“I may be a winger, Franco – but that doesn’t mean I have to cross the ball every time I get to the by-line,” Andrea angrily spat back, ignoring the celebrating players around him as he picked up the ball from inside the net – he had every intention to go for a goal at the instant he got the ball. Andrea D’Ambrosio had joined Juventus from Serie B side Crotone back in 2003, having impressed the management at the then-Serie A club. Now that the ‘Old Lady’ had been relegated, Andrea wanted out. He wasn’t willing to play for a Serie B club, no matter who they were – even Juventus.

“Yet the whole point of practice matches is to refine things such as crosses for real matches – not to try and impress people,” Franco hissed, snatching the ball away from his team-mate. To him, Andrea had committed an act of insubordination towards his captain – ‘If he ever leaves, I’ll be so happy,’ Franco thought, placing the ball back onto the centre circle. “Who were you trying to impress, anyway?” he asked, venomously glowering at his team-mate. Franco was clearly under the impression that Andrea was trying to impress the coaches so that he could take the captain’s armband in the reserves – or maybe even get a shot in the first team.

“That guy over there – I’m sure he’s never been here before,” Andrea admitted, pointing over to the side of the pitch – where a seemingly middle-aged man was sat down with a notepad, seemingly scribbling down things he needed. “I mean, from what I can hear, he’s not even Italian – that language he’s speaking is one not regularly used in Italy. He must be a foreign scout,” he added, his eyes lighting up a little – if his opinion on the man was in fact reality, making a good impression upon him could possibly result in him engineering a move away from Juventus. That was all Andrea wanted at the moment.

Meanwhile, the foreign man was now on the phone, relaying the information that he had been scribbling down onto his notepad to his boss. However, the response from his boss was not one of happiness – most of the players being put forward had no interest in joining their club. They clearly didn’t see a move to Portsmouth as a good career move. “It’s all well and good telling me about these great players, Lee – but if they’re not interested in joining the club, you may as well be feeding me the crap from the bottom of Serie D,” the scout’s boss, Daniel Knight, admitted to his scout down the phone.

“Well, sir – there’s one more player that I can tell you about. I’ve just seen him score one hell of a goal right now – but I’ll have to ask him whether he’s interested in joining Portsmouth,” the scout, Northern Irishman Lee Neill, responded, taking a look at the notes he had most recently written down. “Checking the Juventus club records, the player in question is a left winger by the name of Andrea D’Ambrosio – and he’s definitely Premiership quality,” he stated, checking up to take a look at the Italian player in question.

Naturally, Andrea had taken notice when the foreigner had mentioned his name – mostly because the Portsmouth scout had been talking loud enough for the entire training pitch to hear him. “Back in a sec, Franco,” he muttered, still angry with the reserve team captain for being so arrogant and uppity – naturally, Andrea felt that he didn’t that kind of treatment. “Can I help you in any way?” Andrea questioned the foreigner as he walked over towards him, still reeling from his argument with Franco.

Lee had quickly gone through the details about D’Ambrosio with his boss – and Daniel was certainly interested in signing him. As he placed the mobile into his pocket, he saw a Juventus player striding towards him – muttering a language that he had no knowledge in. Naturally, this was no good. “Andrea D’Ambrosio, I assume?” the scout queried, offering a hand of friendship to the twenty-four year old left winger – after all, getting into his good books would be an important part of getting him to sign for Portsmouth.

Finally, Andrea had realised just what language the scout was speaking to him in – being forced into learning English at school by his parents had seemingly now paid off. “Yes … you are … a scout … yes?” the Italian slowly muttered, accepting the handshake. He had been trying not to make a mess of his pronunciation of the English language – after all, he was sure that the man in front of him was not a trout…whatever one of those was.

“Oh, you can understand English, Mr. D’Ambrosio? Excellent – and yes, I am a scout,” Lee stated, slightly surprised by Andrea’s knowledge of a language not commonly used in Italy – though it was going to make his job far easier. “I’m here on behalf of Portsmouth Football Club – who are interested in making a bid to bring you to England. Are you interested?” he continued, speaking slowly so not to confuse the Italian standing before him.

Though it was plainly clear that Andrea understood – a thumbs up to the scout said that much.

SCIAG · July 23, 2009

So, you're calling your winger "Poo Poo"?

Refering to "Kaka".

KUTGW mate :thup:

viperk1 · July 25, 2009

SCIAG - You've given me an idea for a later post. Thanks

Sunday 2nd July 2006: Wellington Sports Ground, Eastleigh

“Looks like you’ve pulled it, Camille,” physio Joe Hendley admitted, shifting the player’s shorts so they were a little higher up his right leg – which revealed a growing bruise on the inside of his thigh. The fitness coach, Josh Dean, had instantly called for a physio the moment Camille Rubach had pulled up during a sprint session – after all, the Congolese midfielder was just short of screaming in agony from the pain. “It looks to be a Grade 3 strain, Mr. Dean – but I’ll take him to Fratton Park to get him checked out,” Joe stated, trying to hoist Camille onto his shoulder.

“Now Joe – would you mind explaining Camille’s problem in layman’s terms? You know, to those people who don’t have a first class honours degree in physiotherapy?” Josh questioned, having made no sense of what the Portsmouth physio had told him. Naturally, the players gaggled around their injured team-mate hadn’t understood Joe Hendley’s explanation either – all they really wanted to know was how long Camille would be out for.

“Alright – Camille has managed to pull his groin muscles so badly that they have caused a minor tear. This has resulted in the swelling and bruising that you can see,” Joe explained, pointing out the bruise to the players. “Another effect of a Grade 3 strain is that Camille will now be struggling to walk for some time – and will suffer regular muscle spasms in that area,” he added, watching the Congolese midfielder’s bruise grow even larger in size – it appeared that his fear of the strain being Grade III were being confirmed before his very eyes.

Naturally, the most important person who needed to the news about his player’s injury was not present – instead, Daniel Knight had been inside the tactics suite, in a meeting with his assistant regarding some experiments for Portsmouth to try in their first friendly match against Swiss Super League runners-up FC Basel. “What the hell?” he muttered to himself, striding over to find out what the problem was – and why the players had stopped training. “What’s going on, Josh?” he asked, striding over towards the crowd of players.

“Camille has suffered a groin strain, boss,” Joe Hendley intervened, knowing that whilst the coach standing before him had lost a lot of weight since the end of the season, his brain had lost a lot of grey matter – which wouldn’t be much use for explaining the injury that the Congolese midfielder had suffered. “I’m going to take him back up to Fratton Park to let Burnsy and Parsons take a look at him,” he added, trying to help Camille walk towards the door.

“Just let me know how long he’ll be out for as soon as possible, please,” Daniel admitted, pointing towards his watch in an effort to remind the physio of his duties to the club – which Joe Hendley fully understood. He gave a quick nod to his boss, before slowly ambling away, trying to keep the Congolese midfielder’s leg in the air – if only to stop him from screaming in pain.

“Back to training, lads – I’ll let you know if anything changes with Camille,” the Portsmouth manager admitted, pointing towards his phone – knowing that the physio team would ring him on his mobile to let him know how long the Congolese midfielder would be out for. It was definitely something he didn’t need, though. Thanks to the injury, Rubach would be unavailable for the friendly against Basel – and possibly the whole friendly schedule.

‘I just hope Yohan gets a shift on – if the South African talent is useless, I need him back scouting for suitable players,’ he thought, referring to the French scout he sent on behalf of Portsmouth’s South African board member Nicholas Reid. However, his thoughts were disrupted by his mobile phone – which had decided to rumble in his hand. “Hello?” Daniel queried, wondering whether it was another Premiership manager wondering how much he’d be letting a certain player go for.

“Hello Danny! It’s Yohan!” the person on the other side of the phone call cheerily stated, allaying the Portsmouth manager’s fears – ironically, it was the man he had been waiting for to make the call back to England. “I’m here in South Africa, Danny – and the weather is lovely! How is it over there?” Yohan asked, seemingly bathing the warmth of the South African sun – in stark contrast to the weather that Daniel was dealing with back in England.

“It’s raining – again…” Daniel sighed, allowing more raindrops to splash against his messy black hair. The rain was relatively light, but was, according to the weather reports, likely to become heavier over the course of the day – though quite clearly, that was missing the point of why Yohan was calling him. “Anyway, I’m sure you didn’t call to see how the Great British weather is – I guess your job is done in South Africa?” he assumed, changing the subject onto something more worthwhile – with respect to Portsmouth Football Club, naturally.

“That’s right, Danny-boy – though the amount of talent in this country is laughable. You’d find better players in New Caledonia,” Yohan cheekily replied, clearly exaggerating the ability of the players representing the ex-goalkeeper’s second nationality – there was a reason why New Caledonia was 172nd in the World Rankings. “Either way, I’ve found two players that would be of some use and are interested in coming to Portsmouth,” the French scout admitted, knowing that he needed to get back on subject.

“The first player is called Mongezi Mogale, who is plying his trade with the Orlando Pirates,” Yohan stated, finding the report he compiled for the twenty-eight year old South African. “He’d be a good first choice right winger, but he’s better suited in the centre of midfield – where we’ve already got plenty of strong players. Also, at 28, he’ll have already peaked long ago,” the Frenchman admitted, realising already that Mogale would not be of any use to Portsmouth at all – and he was clearly wasting Daniel’s time.

“The other player is a twenty-six year old defensive midfielder named Jermaine Ndou – he’s playing for Mamelodi Sundowns,” Yohan continued, hoping that Ndou’s abilities would impress his boss far more than Mogale’s – not that he knew what Daniel thought about Mogale yet. “He’s a twenty six year old South African – but has six caps for his country. I saw him playing as a centre-back during some of their training sessions – where he’s even better, even though he’s not a natural there,” he added, knowing that would pique Daniel’s interest.

‘First question would be who comes up with these ridiculous club names – ‘Orlando Pirates’? Give me a break…’ Daniel thought, knowing that no self respecting club in England would have a name as stupid as those in South Africa. “Mongezi doesn’t sound like he’s a Premiership quality player, to be honest. On the other hand, Jermaine sounds like a good option for us, Yohan – we’ve got very few defensive midfielders in the squad. How much do you reckon they’ll want for him?” he queried, knowing that somebody who had been capped for his country must be somewhat good.

“Once they latch onto the fact that an English club wants him, they’ll probably up the asking price – so I’d say that you’d need to pay at least the valuation Sundowns have set for him. How does two hundred thousand sound to you?” Yohan asked, realising that with the millions of pounds Portsmouth had available to them at the moment, a paltry transfer fee of £200,000 wasn’t going to break the bank – and quite frankly, Daniel would’ve had to have been stupid to think otherwise.

“It sounds like a steal – they’ll be getting a bid sometime soon.”

Coop624 · July 25, 2009

So who are you bidding for to come into the club?

Lovre Koksa, Croatian, as a first choice right winger?

Andrea D´Ambrosino, Italian, as a left winger? Would he be first choice over that Sam Thompson bloke?

And this guy Jermaine Ndou, South African, as what, a DM who can play DC? Will he be a first teamer or a squady?

And where will that young Nigerian fit in?

gavrenwick · July 25, 2009

And where will that young Nigerian fit in?

My Newcastle squad.

viperk1 · July 27, 2009

Coop624 - yes, those are the three people I'm chasing for now. Trust me, there's a long way to go before I deem this squad ready. Emmanuel? Well, he's only 16 right now - so shoving him into the first team would be foolish.

gavrenwick -

Monday 3rd July 2006: Wellington Sports Ground, Eastleigh

The physio team had been very quick in their diagnosis of Camille Rubach following the injury he sustained yesterday – as Joe Hendley had stated, the Congolese midfielder had suffered a Grade 3 groin strain. As a result, they believed that Rubach would be out for between two and four weeks – at best, he could be able to play in the second half of the tour of the Czech Republic. At worst, he could miss the entire friendly schedule altogether.

“It’s not a total disaster, Aaron – at least he’s not out for a couple of months,” Daniel admitted to his assistant at the edge of training pitches. He knew now that he wouldn’t need to search the transfer market for a midfielder to cover for the injured Congolese midfielder as he recovered from his injury – whether Daniel wanted to search for one was a different story. “He’ll have plenty of chances to prove that he’s worthy of a first team place once he returns from injury,” he added, pointing out towards the training pitch where the first team was training.

“Oh, he’s certainly worth a first team place Danny – that’s for certain. Two caps for the Republic of Congo don’t lie,” Aaron replied, knowing that Rubach was the only midfield player to have represented his country at senior level. “I guess you’ll just use the players we’ve got left to take care of our midfield, right?” he assumed, closely watching the three remaining midfielders on the training pitch that were available to the senior squad – Thomas Scotto, Markus Keim and Russell Hindmarch.

“Since we’ve only got five days until our first friendly match, that’s what we’ll have to do – it’s pretty clear that some clubs are horribly stubborn to deal with,” Daniel admitted, reminiscing back to the end of June and the third day of his tenure at Portsmouth – when West Ham United decided to go after three of their staff on the same day. “Anyway, apart from Rubach’s injury, how do you reckon training has been going?” he asked, leaning against the wall of the training facilities as he watched the players train - the weather had certainly improved from yesterday, but it was still slightly overcast.

“Just take a look for yourself – everybody appears to have shaken off the post-holiday lethargy, at least. Some of them already look to be far better players than they were last season,” Aaron responded, watching as Daniel took a close look at the first team – who were training with coach Gavin Low. “Now take a look at the rest of the squad,” the assistant stated, pointing to the pitch that was at the far end of the area that the club had been allowed – naturally, Aaron pointed out a few players that were impressing.

Of course, Nigerian teenager Emmanuel was one of the players impressing on the second training pitch – but the youngster was on a week off turning seventeen. Daniel didn’t want to promote him up to the first team just yet – the Portsmouth manager wanted to see him get a few reserve team games under his belt first. “You never told me we had a Premiership quality player languishing in the reserve team! Who is he?” Daniel questioned after a few minutes of watching the reserve teamers train, pointing out a relatively tanned player determinedly crossing balls into the middle of the training pitch from the right hand side.

“That is Samir Deghiche – he’s the reserve team’s first choice right-back,” Aaron replied, watching as the Algerian full-back accelerated forward with the ball at his feet, using his pace and agility to dribble the ball, before crossing it in. Whilst the ball hadn’t quite made contact with Israeli coach Eyal Levi’s hands, Daniel had noticed that instead it had smacked against the crossbar. “In case you’ve forgotten, he’s also one of the players that you transfer listed in June,” the assistant manager stated, thinking back to the nine players Daniel listed.

“Not for much longer, he won’t be,” Daniel admitted, realising that he had made a huge mistake by transfer listing the twenty eight year old Algerian full-back. Deghiche clearly had Premiership talent – and the training programme that the Portsmouth staff, Daniel included, had come up with was clearly having a beneficial effect on the Algerian. “Samir! I’d like to talk to you please,” the Portsmouth manager yelled, beckoning for the Algerian to come over and speak with him.

Naturally, Samir was slightly sceptical – after all, the Algerian was now on the transfer list thanks to Daniel Knight. ‘Either he’s found a buyer for me, or he finally appreciates what I’ve done for this club,’ he thought, having been under the impression that the Portsmouth manager had no appreciation for his abilities when he was in the first team – after all, he had put some great performances in whilst Angel Mirchev had been recovering from a hamstring injury at the end of the season.

“Mr. Knight – it is a pleasure to finally speak with you face to face,” Samir admitted in a seemingly regal tone, offering a handshake – which, naturally, the Portsmouth manager graciously accepted. “What do you wish to speak to me about?” the Algerian continued, rubbing the back of his neck in anticipation of what his manager was about to say – Samir wasn’t entirely sure whether he’d be on his way out of the Portsmouth door or edging even closer to a first team place.

Naturally, Daniel was rather surprised by the Algerian’s accent. Samir seemed to sound more like a member of the royal family rather than an African football player – clearly somebody had been listening to the Queen’s speeches far too much. “First of all, call me Danny,” he admitted, notifying the Algerian full-back about a seemingly trivial matter. “Now, it’s come to my attention that you believe I don’t value your abilities – which I can understand, since I transfer listed you,” Daniel stated, watching as Samir nodded in response.

“I must admit that I was wrong to transfer list you, Samir. You have proven to me, and the staff, in training that you’re a Premiership quality player,” he continued, watching as the Algerian’s down-trodden eyes slowly began to lift – it almost seemed as if Samir couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “From now on, you will be training with the first team – and you’re being taken off the transfer list,” Daniel admitted, seeming unnoticeably downcast. The ex-Portsmouth striker had never played in the Premiership, so giving somebody else that chance whilst he watched from the sidelines – it was striking a nasty chord within his heart and soul.

However, Daniel merely tried to shrug it off – he knew that past glories had to be forgotten if he was to make a success of his time as Portsmouth manager.

minisav · July 27, 2009

Another great post :thup: Loving this

mista T · July 29, 2009

Brilliant story ,you've left me hanging on every word. I also like how you aren't pressured to go through a whole season in one update.

the croat has to be Niko Krancjar Could have been slightly more creative with Andres d'Ambrosio though. Still, great story and KUTGW! :thup:

viperk1 · July 29, 2009

minisav - your continued support is very pleasing. Good to see you're still here.

mista T - thanks! In all honesty, the fake player games come up with some very odd names (such as D'Ambrosio) - I have no control over that. Again, thank you for the support.

Tuesday 4th July 2006: 20 Winchester Road, Bristol

“I just hope that Danny turns up – I’d love to know how things have changed since he took the Portsmouth job,” Matthew Banks admitted, taking a nice long drink from his glass – filled with water, naturally. The Bristol-born ex-player had called his former team-mate the previous day, remembering the hand gesture Daniel made towards him prior to him accepting the Portsmouth job. “Though I guess it’ll help them prepare over in Portsmouth,” he chuckled, remembering what day it was – whether Daniel would remember that was a different matter altogether.

However, his train of thought was disrupted as a beeping noise filled the living room – with Matthew being unable to figure out the source of the sound. “Where the hell is that coming from?” he whispered to himself, searching around the room for the object emitting the noise – before noticing the house phone resting upon the side of his armchair. “Hello?” Matthew questioned as he picked up the phone – the caller had withheld their number, so he was rightfully suspicious.

“Hello Matthew! Pleasure to finally speak to you,” the caller replied, his Irish accent becoming visibly clear as he jovially spoke down the phone line. It seemed very strange to Matthew that somebody that he felt he barely knew would already know who he was – and also know his phone number. “I guess you’re very disappointed that you didn’t get the Portsmouth job,” he continued, seemingly revealing how he knew the Bristol born striker’s – in Matthew’s eyes, he had been there at Fratton Park when Daniel Knight was offered the managerial role at Portsmouth FC.

What it didn’t explain to Matthew, however, was how the man on the other end of the phone had managed to get his number. “Disappointed? Yes, I was disappointed not to get the job,” he admitted, stating his opinion regarding Kozlov’s decision to appoint Daniel Knight over him – whilst Matthew knew that the right man had gotten the job in the end, he couldn’t help but feel aggrieved that he had come so close, only to fall at the final hurdle.

“I’m sure you fully deserved that job – and it was snatched away from you just because of one insignificant match,” the Irish accented man admitted, his jovial tone slowly fading into an authoritarian and domineering demeanour. “I bet you’d love to get your revenge on the man who took your job – and the town that denied you your bid for managerial stardom,” he continued, seeming to have some kind of grudge against the current Portsmouth boss – though quite frankly, Matthew had heard enough.

“To whomever this is, let me tell you something. The right man got the job – and I would never seek revenge on such a good friend,” Matthew replied, throwing the phone back down onto the armchair. Whoever was on the other end of the phone would have to find somebody else to do his dirty work – whatever it was. ‘Who’d have a grudge against Danny? He’s never hurt a soul in his life!’ he thought, slumping back down onto the armchair – quite frankly, he was very confused.

‘Just where is he, anyway? I called him two hours ago!’ Matthew thought, merely half an hour later – clearly the Bristol-born ex-striker had forgotten the amount of time it would take for Daniel to travel from Portsmouth to Bristol. “I may as well just wait outside for him,” he muttered to himself, having seemingly become bored with sitting down. It was either that, or the leather that the armchair was made of had started sticking to his clothing – which wouldn’t have done him or the chair any good.

Just as he managed to pull his clothing away from the sticky leather chair, a knocking noise filled the house - which Matthew could only attribute to Daniel’s timely arrival at his home. Upon opening the door, the figure of the Portsmouth manager was revealed on the other side – which was welcome relief, if nothing else. After all, Matthew had been waiting for Daniel for several hours. “Welcome to my home, Danny,” he cheerfully stated, offering a handshake to his former team-mate.

“It’s a pleasure to be here, Matt. My apologies for being late – it takes a long time to get here,” Daniel admitted, accepting the offered handshake – his sat-nav had told him that the journey from Portsmouth to Bristol would be around two and a quarter hours. “How are the Dragons holding up?” he asked, referring to the Welsh amateur club that Matthew had set up to accommodate the unruly Welsh teenagers of Mathem – whether those teenagers were unruly anymore was a different matter altogether.

“Well, I wouldn’t really know – I kinda sold the club to a Welsh businessman. He’s managed to keep the players on board, and is now trying to get the club into the South Wales Amateur League,” Matthew admitted, closing the door behind him as he stepped back into the living room. Truthfully, he was slightly sad that the amateur club he built up for the sake of the Mathem community was now entirely out of his hands. “Though I can’t complain too much – I did make twenty grand out of it,” he added, reminding himself that the amount of money he earned from the sale of the Dragons was far more than what he’d get on the dole.

“I guess we may be hearing more about the Dragons in future,” Daniel smirked, knowing that next to nobody knew or cared about the Welsh Premier League – after all, the English Premiership was where the money was in football. “So are you not thinking about getting back into football? I’m sure you’d make a great scout,” he admitted, reminding himself that it was Matthew that convinced the Portsmouth management to sign the Lowe brothers from Bristol City in 1995 – and both had now had hugely successful careers in football because of it.

“I wouldn’t mind getting back into the game, to be honest Danny – but who’d want to take a failed manager from Bristol on as a scout?” Matthew moaned, allowing his eyes to take a very good look at the dust mites on the living room carpet. Quite frankly, he was lamenting the poor luck that he had suffered – after all, things could’ve been so different had the Mathem Dragons won the match at Fratton Park. “I may as well just give up on any hopes of returning to the gam–“ he admitted, looking up to find a piece of paper staring him in the face – that had the Portsmouth logo and Daniel’s signature on it.

“As I said, I’m sure you’d make a great scout – I’m even surer that you’d make a great Portsmouth scout. Hence why I’m offering you a contract with the club,” Daniel admitted, placing the sheet of A4 on the living room coffee table. “If you want to think this over first, I’ll be more than happy to wait outside,” he added, placing his pen alongside the contract on the table – as much as Matthew said he wouldn’t mind getting back into football, Daniel wasn’t entirely sure.

“No need, Danny – thank you very much for this opportunity,” Matthew cheerily declared, immediately signing the contract on his coffee table – before taking a quick look at the clock on top of his television. ‘Sh*t,’ he thought, taking note of the time – clearly there was something else he needed to do as soon as possible. “We need to be getting back to your place,” Matthew stated, pointing towards Daniel’s car as he handed the contract back to his new boss – needless to say, the Portsmouth manager was rather confused.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, Danny? It’s your birthday today!”

End Chapter 3

As always, Knight will take a week long break. Next update is on the 5th of August.

minisav · July 29, 2009

Another great post. End of Chapter 3 eh? How many chapters are there?!

viperk1 · August 5, 2009

minisav - too many

Chapter 4

Party Time

Tuesday 4th July 2006: 53 Velder Avenue, Portsmouth

“Don’t you think I’m getting a little too old for a birthday party, Dad? I’m thirty-five, for goodness sake!” Daniel smirked, seemingly surprised that his father would bother setting things out. After all, Iain Knight had never organised birthday parties for either of his two children – not for the past twenty years, anyway. “Alright, what’s the excuse this time?” he asked, remembering that his father would generally be kinder to other people when there was something that he wanted from them.

Today was no different. “I’m too easy to read, aren’t I?” Iain admitted, watching his son nod in response – then slowly tut in admonishment. Clearly Daniel wasn’t impressed by his father’s antics – mostly because he’d seen it all before. “Since you’re the manager at Portsmouth, I was hoping that you’d be able to get me a season ticket on the cheap?” he asked, clearly wanting to see his son’s managerial career in the flesh. Despite being head manager of Portsmouth Water, the wages Iain Knight earned were nothing like those that his son picked up each week.

“Why didn’t you just ask, Dad? You didn’t need to do all this just because you wanted a Portsmouth season ticket,” Daniel stated, realising that his father wanted to support him during his managerial career – which, to be honest, was rather touching. Daniel hadn’t quite expected his father to be so supportive of his latest career move – though the fact that he was back in football may have had something to do with it. “Of course I’ll get you a season ticket,” he assured, knowing that a season ticket would cost next to nothing – in comparison to his wages, at least.

“Thank you, Danny – at least I know that I won’t have to resort to the television to watch you down on the touchline,” Iain stated, thankful that he could be witness to a modern match-day at Fratton Park. Admittedly, he had been on the sidelines when Daniel had been playing – but things had changed so much since those days. “By the way, how many people are on the Portsmouth FC books?” he asked, seemingly wondering whether his home would be able to accommodate them all.

“We’re talking triple figures, Dad,” Daniel admitted, taking a seat on one of the two armchairs in the living room. “If you plan on inviting the players, we’re going to need a bigger house – a much bigger house,” he smirked, making himself comfortable in the armchair as he deliberated on the situation. Though 53 Velder Avenue was a relatively large house, it would certainly not fit over fifty members of the Portsmouth staff – unless the inside walls were demolished.

“How stupid do you think I am, Danny? If the party had been here, people would’ve probably arrived by now!” Iain pointed out, slowly spinning in a circle with his arms outstretched in an attempt to clarify his words – and he was dead right. The only people inside the Portsmouth house were Daniel and his father – and as always, it felt just right. “Anyway, it wasn’t even me who decided on planning a birthday bash for you in the first place,” he admitted.

“Wait – you didn’t decide to plan a birthday bash for me? Then why did you have an excuse for me when I asked?” Daniel questioned, curious as to why his father would be so economic with the truth – and more importantly, who had decided to throw a party for his birthday. To be honest, it seemed to be rather strange to him that somebody other than his father would know when his birthday was – and throw a birthday party for him because of it. Not that he was too fussed – it was nice to know somebody cared.

“Since I knew you’d ask – it’s not exactly rocket science when it comes to me, is it? Though I guess it’s just because I was after a cheap season ticket,” Iain admitted, slowly realising his error in judgement. After all, the one thing that he knew extremely well about his son was that Daniel despised lying in all forms – and quite frankly, Iain knew he’d put his foot in it by bending the truth. “I’m really sorry for not telling you the truth straight away, son,” he apologised, hoping that his name wasn’t going to be added to Daniel’s metaphorical ‘Book of Liars’.

“Relax, Dad – how can I be mad at you? You never said it was your idea to begin with – that’s all I assumed,” Daniel replied, seeming surprisingly nonchalant about his father’s antics. On the other hand, he was spot on – Iain Knight had never mentioned that it was his idea to throw a birthday party. “So who decided to throw me a birthday party? Where is it being held?” he asked, pausing to think about who could’ve been crazy enough to spend time and possibly money on him.

“I would’ve thought you’d know who it is by now, Danny – I mean, how many people do you know, apart from me and Karl Lowe, who would do something like this for you?” Iain admitted, pointing out that his son generally kept to himself – and only family and truly close friends would find out about his personal life. “However, I’ve managed to fix you up with somebody to take care of your ‘problem’,” he added, before lowering his hands to make a gesture that only an idiot would not understand – and of course, Daniel picked up on the meaning.

“For the last time, Dad – just because I’ve never gotten any doesn’t mean you have to buy me a stripper!”

Coop624 · August 5, 2009

Danny never got any?

That´s poor form..

viperk1 · August 7, 2009

Coop624 - It is bad form: but it's his nature. He'll only sleep with a girl if he knows she's the one

Tuesday 4th July 2006: Fratton Park (Hospitality Suite), Portsmouth

“I’m surprised that you agreed to me doing this, sir,” Karl admitted down the phone, staring cheerfully at the work he had done to prepare the hospitality suite for Daniel’s arrival – in typical party fashion, multi-coloured banners were adorned around the room all wishing the Portsmouth manager a happy birthday. Naturally, the banners did not mention just how old Daniel was today – nor was Karl going to remind him. After all, who’d want to be reminded that they had just turned thirty five?

A small chuckle emanated from the other end of the phone in mock surprise – clearly Kirill Kozlov thought otherwise regarding his decision to allow Karl to use the hospitality suite. “Nonsense, Karl – I really couldn’t say no. If nothing else, this will give you all a chance to get to know each other and your new manager – before the preparations for next season really begin,” the Russian chairman admitted, reminding Karl that only he really knew the man whose name was on the manager’s door – and that the start of the season was only a few months away.

“Thank you anyway, sir. Good day to you,” Karl stated, before pressing the red button on his mobile phone. In truth, the Portsmouth captain had doubted whether throwing a ‘surprise’ birthday party so early into pre-season was plausible – especially with a friendly match against FC Basel only four days away. However, the chairman’s blessing, as well as Daniel’s zero tolerance policy regarding the consumption of alcohol, had allayed Karl’s fears – all he had to worry about for now was whether the birthday boy turned up.Or anyone else for that matter – otherwise there would be little point of Daniel turning up.

Thankfully, that wasn’t to be the case. “Good to see you’ve turned up Paul – I wouldn’t have expected you to arrive first though,” Karl admitted as Paul Spooner, Portsmouth’s first choice left-back, sauntered into the hospitality suite looking extremely pleased with himself. “What are you so pleased about then Spooner? You haven’t been drinking, have you?” he queried, knowing that despite the England left-back’s generally lively attitude to life, Paul wasn’t quite as smug as this – which either meant something had really gone good for him, or he had just been down to the local pub for a pint or five.

“Now what makes you think I’ve been drinking, Karl? You should know what I’m like when I’m drunk,” Paul admitted, reminding the Portsmouth captain of last year’s Christmas party – within his first few pints, Spooner was sprawled out on a chair, drunkenly reciting the opening paragraphs of the Bible. Needless to say, he didn’t play in the next few Portsmouth matches. “For once, I’m sober mate. I have, however, pulled the fittest bird I’ve ever seen in my life!” he admitted, dancing a small jig on the spot.

“Paul, you’ve said that about your last ten girlfriends! I just hope it doesn’t turn out the same way it did when you went out with Cheryl Tweedy…” Karl replied, reminding the England left back that he had not managed to hold a relationship for longer than three weeks – with the shortest one being with the Girls Aloud singer. That lasted four days. “Are you sure you’ll be able to not get bored of this one this time?” he asked, hoping that Paul would be able to mend his ‘playa’ attitude to the opposite sex.

“If he does, it’ll be a bloody miracle,” Roy Champion stated as he strode into the hospitality suite – the striker had always been Spooner’s port of call whenever one of his relationships didn’t feel right. In general, that was all of his relationships – so naturally, he was just a little sceptical. “What happened with Tweedy anyway?” the English striker asked, smirking a little after hearing that his Portsmouth team-mate had managed to hook up with such a high-profile singer.

"She was cheating on me with a horse – I found a jockey under her bed and it clearly wasn't mine," Paul admitted, prompting a chuckle from Karl – who, despite hearing it all before, just couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Ah well – she wasn’t right for me anyway. This girl I’m with now is the one!” he added, ignoring the club captain’s laughter to his right – he couldn’t quite understand why nobody believed that he would be able to hold onto a relationship.

As much as Roy wanted to join in with the laughter, he knew that Karl had invited the club’s potential new signing and didn’t want to be made out to be a fool in front of the newcomer – however, he couldn’t argue that Paul’s reasoning sounded just a little unrealistic. “So when’s this new guy going to get here? More importantly, who is he?” Roy asked, knowing that both Karl and the boss had done a very good job keeping the identity of their possible recruit secret.

“His agent said he’d be here around about now, I think…” Karl admitted, stifling the giggles as he took a quick look at his watch – which stated that the time was four o’clock. Of course, true to his word, the door opened to reveal Kaká – who had clearly made an effort to impress his team-mates, donning a frock coat not too dissimilar to the chairman’s. “Welcome to the party, Kaká – I hope you enjoy yourself this evening,” the Portsmouth captain stated, sharing a handshake with the Croatian right winger.

“Thank…you,” the Croatian responded, realising that Karl had used his nickname rather than his actual name – and for good reason too. Having listened in to the conversation between the three Englishmen, the sound of his real name would elicit more laughter – and embarrassment for him. “How man…many more…persons come he…here?” Kaká asked, trying with every breath to improve his grasp of speaking the native tongue of this foreign land he found himself in.

“Don’t you worry yourself with the details, Mr. Kaká – we at Portsmouth will take good care of you whilst you’re here at the club,” Spooner stated, having obviously not realised that ‘Kaká’ was only a nickname for the newcomer – and not his surname. “So Karl – does this guy need a work permit?” he whispered to the club captain, having figured out at least that Kaká was a foreigner – with which Karl merely nodded, seeming very disappointed that the gaffer had to go outside of EU jurisdiction to find the right talent for the club.

“Has he got one?”

“I don’t know.”

tenthreeleader · August 7, 2009

Continuing, ongoing great stuff, viper!

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