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bigmattb28 last won the day on October 12 2023
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1,460 "Carpe diem. Seize the day"About Me
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About Me
FM Stories newcomer of the year and funniest story of the year
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Currently Managing
San Marino Calcio (FM17) FMS forum.
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The Journeyman Jock - This isn’t the great FM San Marino challenge I was given the objective from Stefano de Luca, the San Marino Calcio chairman ‘I need you to survive, by any means necessary’. I asked him what means those were, and he said ‘oh anything, and I mean ANYTHING (he emphasized this word), just like you did in Turkey’. I assume he was alluding to the match fixing scandal that I didn't have anything to do with. Also as an aside, not that I’m playing a video game that may or may not have a scripted match engine, but I need to point out that at no point from being told 2 days ago that I’m the new manager of this club until now have I decided that this is now going to be the great San Marino challenge. I’m just happy to be in a job, and a job that there’s not much pressure to succeed in. Plus I don’t know who’s worse, the standard of manager in me, or the standard of players this country generates in the youth intake. Again, not that I’m playing any computer game. Also another aside, I’ve still not had any chance to implement the Moneyball idea that started me on this managerial journey, but if there’s 1 place in the world of football that I should be able to do that, it’s gotta be San Marino right? San Marino, as a nation of people as well as a footballing nation, just seems to be happy to be there. I mean, it’s like this little village that’s been plopped randomly into a nondescript spot in Italy, near the coast and a bus ride away from Florence. Side note, I’m going to go to Florence and watch Fiorentina play when time allows. Last season the idiots got relegated to Serie B. Plus their home kits have always been nice, I had 1 with Batistuta on the back once, what a player he was. The nation is known as the whipping boys of Europe so I’m expecting the football team, which plays in the Italian league pyramid, think Cardiff and Swansea in England, to be the same. But with that in mind, I felt coming here would be good for me on 2 counts. The first being if we get d*cked every week it won’t matter, because San Marino and sh*t football go hand in hand and we’ll be expected to get smashed more than an Edinburgh prostitute on a weekend. If by some miracle of God, who by the way is quite popular round here, we manage to win some games and stay up, I’ll be heralded as a mastermind tactician and I’ll have overachieved and any pre-existing thoughts of match fixing will be forgotten. Win win all round, hopefully. I felt to really give me and the club the best chance of survival, illegal activities on and off the pitch be damned, that I would need people I can rely on, that are somewhat knowledgeable in football and are cut out for it, which immediately rules the Doctor out, despite his protests. So I used the new phone Alex sent me to ring my old assistant in Turkey, Mark Jauk ‘Now lad, it’s Jock, you got a few minutes’ ‘You stinky no good poker cheating low life scum ball’ ‘I see your English has improved’ ‘Funk you and your money stealing ways’ ‘I don’t really know what to say’ 'Ahh is fine Jock, I’m just breaking your balls’ ‘It’s called busting, but anyway how's it been at the club since I left?’ ‘Terrible. The owner told us you left him a note to pass on to the rest of us saying thanks lads for the memories, and that you hired 2 high class hookers, bought a bag of blow and got a plane to Nepal to live in the mountains there, I didn’t believe it at first but then I thought that is s omething you’d probably do’ Couldn’t argue, sounds like a good thing to do to be fair. He continued ‘The owner brought a new guy in, some hump from South Korea, he sacked all the staff apart from 1 scout, some punk kid I never met, he stripped Ummy of the captaincy and said he wants nothing to remain of your ill fated spell that has brought shame and dishonour to the club and to Turkish football’ ‘Sh*t, well look I had noth….’ he cut me off ‘Oh I know you didn’t, I was approached by some dweebs wearing 3 piece suits and headsets about leaking team informations and asking players to take dives and so on, but I never obliged and I don’t think you would either’ So Mark was approached, I wonder if he was ever interviewed by the FBI? I’d ask another time. ‘Oh right, erm, not really sure what to say, other than I’ve got a new gig lined up, if you’re interested?’ ‘Oh Jock my friend, I’m on a train into Vienna to accept a job as under 18’s manager at Sturm Graz, what job you have for me?’ ‘Well I was gonna ask you to be my assistant again’ An awkward silence on the phone, I swear I could hear the cogs turning in his head ‘F*ck the under 18’s, I’m with you, where’s the job?’ ‘Mark, please under no circumstances say that out loud again, I’m already wanted by the police, I don’t want be labelled a fiddler as well as a fraud’ I let the moment hang before saying ‘I’ll text you the details’ As that call ended, the Doctor just popped up out of nowhere like a wild Pokemon in the room I was in at the San Marino Stadium and said ‘remember that night in the van, we were in Sofia, the place not the prozzy, and I said about Bazza needing a job?’ ‘No’ ‘Corse you do, I told you that Bazza had been in touch, he’d ripped his foot on a barb wired fence and had to retire, but Stranraer said because of his disciplinary record and his tendency to not turn up to games and training that they couldn’t keep him on the coaching staff’ ‘You’ve literally never said any of that to me, until now. Anyway how the f*ck has Bazza managed to get in touch with you? And not me for that matter?!?’ ‘Behave man, you said yeah once we’re sorted with a new job Baz can have a job as a coach’ ‘Mate you’re tripping, I’ve never said that’ ‘But hypno thetically, if he was available would you hire him?’ I couldn’t be bothered with the Doctors antics at the minute, and I hadn’t spoke to Baz for about 5 weeks, and even then it was on XBOX live while we were playing Fifa, I beat him 6-2, and I thought no way Bazza has been in touch, we’ve got new phones for a start, so I just said ‘it’s hypothetically, but if Bazza has retired and he wanted to come all the way out here, to San Marino then yes, he can work on my staff’ The Doctor got up, smiling and opened the door and said ‘here lad I told you he’d take you on, he’s had me tagging along for 2 years’ and as he finished talking another figure walked into the room wearing a Rangers shirt, a white bandana and a pair of Speedo’s with the S worn out and rubbed off I shook my head and said ‘For f*ck sake. First of all take that sh*t off right now Baz!’ and watched as 1 of my oldest friends in the world took his Speedo’s off, letting his Winston hang out and his smile stretching across his full face ‘bit of a weird request, but as you’re my new boss I oblige’ he said before we embraced with a hug. David Barron, 2 years my junior and someone I’d known since I was about 9, had had a so-so playing career in Scotland never really making it to the top leagues, content with playing League One at the highest. He told me his achilles is done and he needs surgery on it, and that his playing career is over at the age of 30. Sad times. ‘What’s all this about you sneaking across Europe running away from the pigs?’ ‘That’s not exactly true, I’m running from the FBI not the police’ ‘Woooooooow what the f*ck have you done this time?!’ ‘Nothing, literally nothing, it wasn’t me’ Baz turned and looked at the Doctor ‘and it wasn’t him either, for once’ I said ‘Right, whatever I don’t care. I’m here to get p*ssed, sniff some Italian Molly and f*ck anything with a pair of t*ts and a heartbeat, although the heartbeat is optional. Shall we find a boozer then lads?' And we left the hotel in Milan and made our way down to a pub on the high street. During the next couple of hours we talked strategy, tactics and plans for the season, and it was nice to finally speak to someone logically about football and with someone who has experience in it, not just watching it like the Doctor. Despite Bazza knocking back pints of Perrotti like it was going out of fashion and the Doctor supplying more and more powder, pills and spirits we got a good deal sorted out. I told him I’ve briefly met the players but I do have control over transfers, and from my last 2 clubs there’s 2 players I’d love to speak to about coming over ‘Gimme the numbers I’ll call them’ Baz said ‘It’ll look better coming form me’ I said ‘Nah, listen if anyone’s tapping calls coming from here they’ll get you, let me ring them. Plus if you ring Ballyclare and their gaffers cush with that Irish pr*ck from Bangor you’ll never get to speak to Pavel will ya’ he had a point actually, he continued ‘also I’ll ring this Mark lad the new assistant, he’ll have the Turks number won’t he, we can let him talk to him about coming in’ To say I was impressed with Bazza’s professionalism would be an understatement. He’s really taken on the role of first team coach much more than I thought he would. He’s always been a bit of a liability at best, so to see him embracing his forced retirement is great, and it’s something I didn’t really know I needed until now. San Marino, under Jock McGhee, Mark Jauk and my mate Bazza fresh off the back of being investigated by the FBI, are going places, I know it. == == == == ==
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bigmattb28 started following Getting boring now same outcomes over and over and (FM'09) Mission -: Conquer Scotland
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Rab Douglas. Now there's a name I've not seen in time!!
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The Journeyman Jock - Three is the magic number ‘For the sake of the tape please can you confirm your name?’ ‘Just call me smacktalker Skywalker, bada bing bada boom I’m the realest guy in the room’ ‘And how do you know Joseph?’ ‘Joseph? Like Mary, Jesus and Joseph?’ ‘Joseph Mc…, Jock you call him’ ‘Oh that square, erm, dunno, think I bumped into him when I got here few months ago, seems like a nice guy’ ‘You know fine well you’ve known him most of your life, spill on that’ ‘Well if you think that why you asking me? Hey wait a minute, I know this routine, you’re asking me questions you’ve already got answers to and then if I say something different you’re gonna implicate me in the murder’ ‘What murder? ‘Ahh see, there it is. What murder exactly hahaha’ ‘You do realise, or at least you have comprehended that you’re being questioned in relation to a number of serious offences?’ ‘Yeah mate sure do, I’ve got a serious case of the heeby jeebies’ ‘I’m obliged to tell you that the case we’re building against you and your friends is gonna see you in prison for a long time, but you can help yourself by helping us’ ‘Yeah whatever’ ‘Let me get to the real reason you’re here today Mister Robson. You’ve been involved in trafficking narcotics into and around Ankara. As well as that you’ve been involved in match fixing football games, most notably games involving Besiktas and Etimesgut. Oh and let’s not forget the extortion and bribery you’re partial to, whilst in cahoots with the Turkey for the People political party. Spill it’ ‘I’ll spill nothing. A spilt drink is like a broken heart’ ‘You had the chance to cooperate with us but it seems as though you’re dead set on being unhelpful. I have to ask you, how did you come into contact with members of the Turkey for the People political party?’ ‘No idea who that is’ ‘What about on the night of January 1st, you were seen leaving a house on the outskirts of Ankara with a lady half your height, you were wearing a Scotland flag around your waist and a clown mask, the lady you were with happened to be wearing less, as in nothing. Tell me about that’ How do you know it was me if the person was wearing a mask?’ 'The Spongebob Squarepants tattoo on your back, the one that takes up your full back which is exactly the same as the one the person had leaving at that time’ ‘Spongebobs a popular guy, loads of people have tattoos of him’ ‘I doubt that, but okay, what about the tattoo on your left leg of Ronald McDonald and a Burger King Whopper meal, or the one on your right leg of Papa Smurf gardening a field of marijuana leaves, both of which were on the person seen leaving the house? ‘Another case of popular tattoos mate’ The Doctor turned the tape off and said ‘loads of bullsh*t really, I didn’t drop you in anything trust me’ ‘I wouldn't trust your corpse to take a punch’ a lie but a joke, I trust this man with my life ‘What did they say when you got up and left?’ ‘Something about getting a warrant from the court then coming to get me. Lucky we got out of Turkey when we did, that politician broad came good didn't she’ ‘Yeah she actually did. She’s put me in touch with a guy, apparently he’s got me a job’ Before my friend could say anything else, I told him we’ve got to do everything we can to keep our heads down and wait for this case to blow over. I was under no illusions that it would blow off quietly, but I’ve done nothing wrong, well nothing wrong in terms of fixing matches anyway. ‘Don’t be such a saint, live life to fullest man’ ‘That’s easy for you to say, you’re not a football manager that’s stuffed 2 jobs in 2 years in 2 different f*cking countries!’ I settled down on the sofa in the hotel room in Milan, put on by Alexa, all I was told I had to do was wait for a call, which didn’t take long. I answered ‘It’s me, how you feeling?’ she said, compassion clear in her tone ‘Like sh*t, like a f*cking illegal immigrant’ ‘Don’t worry, as long as you stay in the EU you’re safe, well as safe as you’re going to be. It’ll take a hell of a lot for the British government to sanction an extradition, and based on the evidence the FBI have got, it’s circumstantial at best’ ‘Yet I’m backtracking across Europe…’ she cut me off ‘Don’t worry. I’ve told you about the job already lined up’ ‘A wise man once told me that if something seems too good to be true then it usually is’ ‘This isn’t too good to be true, one of the contacts we have in Milan is a football agent, he’s got contacts all over the world in football. He’s been able to put your name out there and he'll represent you, so any fallback from this slander campaign against you will be irrelevant’ I’ve got no other choice really. I’m stuck in a hotel in 1 of the less posher areas of Milan, with my oldest friend in the world, who somehow keeps finding dealers with gear and booze in all the places we’ve been to, and god knows where his money is coming from, I swear he’s not worked a day in his life. The more I think about it the worse it gets, and my headache just keeps coming and going. The Doctor tells me it’s the comedown from the acid and coke we’ve been taking the last few days. I say it’s the f*cking stress he’s put me under! Which football club owner or chairman is gonna take on an out of work manager, that’s stuffed it at the last 2 jobs he’s been at? Not to mention one that’s been implicated in a high profile match fixing scandal that’s been going on?’ ‘One at a club that’s either going nowhere or is too irrelevant to have much of a choice’ the Doctor said ‘How did you know what I was thinking?’ ‘I know you like the back of my hand. Plus I spoke to the agent’ ‘What? When?’ ‘Earlier. We’ve got 2 days here in Milan then we’re off on a train down to San Marino’ ‘San Marino? Aren’t they the worst football country in the world?’ ‘Yeah, they’ve got a team in the Italian league though, you’re the new manager’ ‘Shut up you can’t be serious’ ‘I am, they’re expected to finish bottom of Serie C, that’s the third division. Like I said, too irrelevant to be picky about who their manager is’ ‘What happened to the last manager?’ ‘No one knows, he just disappeared’ ‘Great’ And that was how I became the new manager of the newly promoted San Marino Calcio, another third division club, in my third country in three years. == == == == ==
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The Journeyman Jock - Summer 2018 10/06/18 - I hang up the phone and hastily throw things into my Nike gym bag. 1 pair of boxer shorts, 2 pairs of shorts (Adidas and Reebok), last seasons Motherwell away shirt, this seasons Etimesgut home shirt (Aktay 37 on the back), my phone charger, headphones (wired ones off ebay), a cup sans handle, 2 cans of Carlsberg Export and 1 can of Red Bull. I get a taxi from the off licence down the road where The Doctor has bought 3 bags worth of ale. We arrived at a bus depot in Istanbul about 3 hours later, and are greeted by a guy called Hermes, like the delivery company. We get a bite to eat and then we’re sat in the back of a white transit van as it proceeds up to the coast. 11/06 - At some time after midnight we’re on a boat, quite a big one to be fair, had a few glasses of wine and some food, some Turkish paella with gyros and some yoghurts. I managed to get a shower by the time we ported in a place called Burgas in Bulgaria. We then got off the boat and found another van, this one black, and sat in the back of it playing cards and drinking the cans of cheap beer we picked up before leaving Ankara, and roughly 4 hours later we made it to an industrial estate somewhere in Sofia.The Doctor hadn’t slept in over 72 hours, so he says, and continues railing lines of powder. I’m too stressed to take anything illegal, I’m already worried up to my eyeballs and I do not need any narcotic infused paranoia as well. 12/06 - I slept in the van overnight while Hermes and his contact got things sorted for us in the Bulgarian capital. The doctor had been sat playing patience on his own with the pack of cards all night. I checked a paper I picked up outside the port and saw that the World Cup predictions were officially up, the mighty Tartan Army drawn in Group B with favourites Brazil, as well as Egypt and Japan. I said we’d have to find somewhere that’ll be showing the games. The Doctor yelled TARTAN ARMY to no one in particular. He’s not even Scottish. Gareth Southgate makes some weird decisions with his England squad and keeps his friends close at the forefront of his selection. Harry Kane (18 league goals, 5 cup) and Marcus Rashford (10 goals, 1 cup) are 2 of 3 forwards, scoring a combined 34 all season, despite Callum Wilson of lowly Bournemouth who finished sixth, the Premier Leagues top scorer with 29 not making the team. The other forward is Daniel Sturridge, 8 goals for Liverpool whilst playing in only 23 matches in a forgettable season. Jack Butland, Fraser Forster and Tom Heaton are the goalies, Joe Hart nowhere to be found. Chris Smalling of Southampton gets called up despite being labelled as the Premier League's worst signing of the season, Danny Rose gets the starting left full back nod over Luke Shaw, more on him shortly, Dele Alli, injured since December also makes the squad. 13/06 - The official end of the football season in England. Newcastle are back in the Premier League and let everyone know they’re not messing around. Rafa signed left winger / striker Kenedy on loan from Chelsea last summer, who goes and gets 20 goals and 9 assists. Matt Ritchie scores 10 and gets 11 assists to win the clubs player of the year for the second season in a row, The Toon finish second against all odds. Losing only 6 games in the process to league winners Man United twice, as well as the blue side of Manchester twice, Arsenal once and Watford away randomly. They won 25 league games and Rafa joins me in the manager of the year club. It’s a very exclusive club. Not only that, but Rafa has lost 11, count it 11, league games in the last 2 seasons. As noted already Bournemouths Callum Wilson is the leagues top scorer with 29 and moves to Chelsea for 42 million. Man United’s Harry Kane gets 18, Eden Hazard is third with 13 goals while Mesut Ozil leads the league with 19 assists. Liverpool continue to make everyone's day whilst simultaneously voiding accas as they sacked Roberto Mancini just before Christmas in 2017 after losing to Bristol City at Ashton Gate, they then hire Ralph Hassenhüttl, who signs Jordan Henderson to a 5 year 190k deal, sells Firmino to Bayer Leverkusen for 39 million & brings in Ruben Duarte to replace Firminio for 7 million. Laughable. They eventually finished 11th. James Milner (32 but fit as a fiddle) Adam Lallana (30, passed his mediocre best and posting 6 goals and 4 assists last season) and Marcel Sabitzer (24, 27 games games last season, huge return of 3 goals & 6 assists) are their key players, and they still expect to finish fourth. It’s not their year no matter how many times they say it. Davey Moyes is eventually sacked by Sunderland once the Championship play offs ends, which they missed by some margin after they ignored my email last year and don’t get promoted back to the Premiership.. They hire Claude Makelele who was in charge of Norwich, guiding them from playoff hopefuls at the start of the season to 17th in 6 months. Man United boss Jose Mourinho seems intent on pissing his players off, as he signs Robert Lewandovski from Bayern for 81 million who immediately pushes Harry Kane out of the starting line up, and Theo Hernandez from PSG for 32 million who sees Luke Shaw, Man United’s player of the year, make way. He requests a transfer. The dog nonces at Celtic won the SPL for the 2 millionth time. They sell Kristoffer Ajer to Champions League winners Monaco for 6 million but make no incoming signings. Rangers sell a load of young players and bring in another 7 players, like they did last year that no one knows. They finish third behind Hearts. They're a massive club remember. Wigan won the Championship, Brighton came second and Ipswich saw off Sheffield Wednesday in the play offs. Wednesday also lost last year's playoffs. Maybe third time lucky next year lads? Monaco beat Atletico Madrid in the Champions league final. Radamel Falcoa grabbing the winner late in the second half. Inter beat Real Sociedad in the Europa league final. Joao Mario (keep him in mind) scoring twice in the second half to secure a 2-1 win. Motherwell bring in the big guns in the form of Che Adams for 2.4 million from Birmingham, Darron Gibson on a free, Ryan Colclough from Wigan for 450k, Daniel Barlaser on loan from Newcastle, Timi Elsnik on a free from Derby, Andrea Rossi of Pescara, no we don’t know him either, on loan, and all come in to build upon the teams Championship win last season and SPL survival this, hopefully. Timo Werner left the bright lights of Leipzig for the megabucks of Man City for 58 million, Leipzig immediately replaced him with City’s Gabriel Jesus for 56 million, for a 2 million profit. Europa League winning goal scorer Joao Mario takes his winners medal and leaves Inter Milan to head to Barcelona for 57 million Joelinton, fresh off 2 seasons at Rapid Vienna on loan from Hoffenheim and scoring a solid 48 in 72 in Austria, leaves Hoffenheim permanently to move to Arsenal for 40 million. He played exactly 0 minutes for Hoffenheim. Hakim Ziyech leaving Ajax to go to Real Madrid for 25 million is the Eredivise’s big transfer out. No incoming transfers come close to price or relevancy. 14/06 - The Doctor finally falls asleep in the back of the van with his headphones in playing the This is Action Bronson playlist on Spotify. I drink some cheap Bulgarian ale we’ve picked up in Sofia and been to a couple of bars without the Doctor. As far as I can tell there's been no FBI or Turkish police tails on us, yet. 15/06 - 20/06 - We move around the outskirts of Sofia in the van hitting some nondescript looking boozers and greasy spoons, trying to keep out of trouble. The Doctor has other ideas as he challenges 3 men to a fight, 2 of which claim they are French Army reserves, who I’m sure are undoubtedly trained in unarmed close quarters combat. The Doctor, about 6 grams of coke and 4 MDMA tablets deep claims he’s the Mike Tyson / Brock Lesnar illegitimate love child. Me and Hermes get him out of Dodge by the skin of our collected teeth. We do enjoy a couple of quiet days as the Doctor sleeps off his comedown and I get to enjoy my cheap Bulgarian beer hangovers with nothing of note happening. My heart does skip a beat as a couple of uniformed police officers ask Hermes some questions, although it turns out they’re lady boy prostitutes playing dress up. Hermes declines their advances however the Doctor goes to speak to them. We don’t see him for 3 hours. I keep an eye on football news and see that in Asia the transfers continued making no logical sense, only big money sense. Felipe of Portuguese champions and Champions League semi finalists Porto leaves to go to Qatari side Al Sadd for 10 million. That’s his wage, the transfer fee was 6. Allan of Serie A runners up and Coppa Italia semi finalists Napoli gets to fly to China and sign for Huaxia for 49 million. Napoli spend 2 million of that money on some Serbian kid called Stefan Subotic from Red Star Belgrade. Solomon Rondon, 12 Premier League goals the season just finished, leaves West Brom to follow Allan to China but signs for Quanjian for 34 million. He’s given squad number 34 as well. Ironic. Victor Wanyama has been threatening to leave Spurs all season since Harry Kane left last summer and finally got the green light. He leaves for China to join the Rondon-revolution at Quanijian for 12 million. He’s given the number 6 shirt. 21/06 - We’re in a pub in Sofia we've not been to yet, and the sign outside says кървавият чужденец which Hermes translates as The Bloody Foreigner. Brazil v Scotland is showing on the telly. I tell the Doctor not to bring any attention to us or let them know I’m Scottish, to which he shouts DEATH TO THE JOCKS! And proclaims that no one will know we’re there supporting the Tartan Army with that yell. They get beat 2-0 by Brazil. 26/06 - We’re back in the Bloody Foreigner to watch Scotland take on Japan. The last time these played each other was last summer, the Japs winning 2-0 but they didn’t play against the world class strike combination of Jordan Rhodes and James Morrison that day. Morrison grabbing 2 assists for Rhodes from his 2 open play goals in his first half hat trick to go with his penalty after 14 minutes, Rhodes then returning the favour by letting Morrison thunder the ball home to get an assist to go with his 3 goals. 4-0 at half time and I won’t lie, I was worried they’d lose it, it is Scotland after all. Lose they did not but they sat back for 45 minutes and saw the game out 4-0. Scenes in the Bloody Foreigner. For a brief moment Jordan Rhodes of Middlesbrough and Scotland was the leading scorer at a World Cup finals. The Scots followed that win up with a close 3-2 win over Egypt to progress. We then ruined every Englishman's day as we beat Austria on penalties in the second round, and got drawn against Croatia in the quarter final. Germany knocked England out in the second round courtesy of 2 Robert Muller (with reported interest from Qatari side Al-Sadd) goals in the last 5 mins. Southgate's job isn't even in doubt. 30/06 - We’re back on the move as the route from Sofia through Romania, Hungary and Slovakia is clear, or at least as clear as it can be. We’re in Budapest 3 days later. 03/07 - World Cup semi final today, which we managed to watch in a small ale house somewhere in Budapest. Not a lot to report really, as Scotland bowed out gracefully to eventual runners up Croatia. Budapest is welcoming to the 3 strange foreign men (1 Scot, 1 English and 1 Turkish) in a black transit van with Turkish plates, and most people speak English. We get fed and showered at a budget hotel and I try and relax after watching the Scots somehow get to a semi final of the World Cup 04/07 - On the road again except this time we travel a short distance and hit Graz in Austria just after 2AM. A train takes us from Graz into Venice no questions asked. Another stopover at a cheap hotel is followed by a drive from an Italian guy who’s friendly with Turkey for the People, up to Milan. He’s called Luigi, I’m dying to ask if he’s got a brother called Mario. The Doctor is sat railing lines and playing patience again, this time listening to Westside Gunn’s album Supreme Blientele 06/07 - We get to a hotel, the best looking one on our journey so far. We’re in room 316 and all I can think about is Stone Cold Steve Austin, so grab 2 ice cold beers from the fridge, open them up and smash them together and drink them at the same time, and lay on the bed, not really sure what’s going to happen next or when it’s going to happen. The Doctor is smiling his usual smile and says ‘I’ve clocked a dealer kid downstairs, I’m gonna go score some sh*t, back soon’ and off he went. I didn’t want to get caught up anything, so stayed in the hotel room without much left to be done but watch tv and relentless masturbation. == == == == ==
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The Journeyman Jock - The call The phone rang, a local Ankara number calling so I answered it ‘Jock it’s me’ a female voice ‘Me who?’ ‘Alex’ I couldn’t think of an Alex, a female one anyway ‘I’m with Turkey for the People, we’ve been at parties together doing snort. The last time the Doctor was dancing with midgets’ ‘Oh right I thought that was me on an acid trip’ ‘No it happened. Listen you haven’t got long’ ‘Sh*t, long for what?’ ‘The police are coming for you and the Doctor, they’ve got evidence you both corroborated to fix at least 11 football matches within the last year’ her words coming out double quick ‘Get to f*ck I’ve done no such thing’ ‘It doesn’t matter, the current ruling party in the government in Turkey have fabricated the reports from the police and linked it to our political party, to you and the doctor, and have altered the documents to make it look like you’ve fixed some games and we’re all involved in it all together’ I didn’t know what to say, I needed to find the Doctor and see what he knows. He won’t have been fixing matches I was sure of it. Other non legal things I can see him doing, but fixing football matches, no way. ‘Listen to me, the chairman of Etimesgut will ring you, play dumb, he’s either going to ask you to go meet him, if he does it’s a trap so the police can get you, if not hear him out but he’s probably going to sack you’ ‘How do you know this?’ I said more than a little bit wary ‘I have contacts in the government, as well as some people in football and in the police here in Ankara. The FBI geeks who interviewed you are staying in a Ritz not far from the US embassy, my associate there has been keeping tabs. I’ve got to go, and between us we need to find and warn the Doctor. Listen to me, do not under any circumstances go to the stadium or training ground. I’ll be in touch’ Click, the line went dead. Just like Ray Charles in a fist fight, I did not see that coming! I sat down on the bed in the flat I was renting, through the club no less, and within 20 seconds of that call ending my phone rang again. Erdan Yildiz, the chairman. I answered and before I could say anything he said in his ever improving broken English ‘Jock, there are no time to explain. I’m under a lot of pressure. I like you, I really do but there’s….’ I cut him off ‘I know, you want me to come meet you so you….’ he cut me off ‘No no no! Do not come here under any circumstance. I am in bathroom in the players lounge, there are armed Turkish police, some with dogs, and US cops are here. They say you’ve been trafficking drugs and people as well as fixing matches’ he said. I tried to speak but he carried on ‘I do not know if you have, I do not think you have and would like to think this is a misunderstanding, so I’m doing what I think I can to help you, and that is I’m going to accept your resignation now, over the phone, and when that’s done you get the hell out of Turkey. I’m going to tell those police I’ve spoken to you and you’re on the way here now to speak about football. That should get you an hour or so before they get suspicious’ In shock I didn’t know what to do. Professionally if I leave the job now I might find work elsewhere, that’s if the feds didn’t catch up with me and ruin my career just as it was starting to get going, but I’ve done nothing wrong in terms of fixing matches ‘Jock, are you there my friend?’ ‘Yes I’m here’ ‘My own solicitor is here with me, he says the charges are only based on things that have happened in Turkey, for you anyway. If you leave now and go to another EU country, the police can’t extradite you from there, at least not easily. Your friends I’m not so sure on, but you must get out of Turkey now and go home to Scotland or somewhere that is an EU country. Jock, my friend I’m risking myself to help you. Tell me you quit now on the phone that way I won’t be lying to anyone about the club, and then you must leave’ For the first time in my life I was lost for words. ‘I…..erm…..thank you for every….’ ‘Jock for f*ck, say it quick’ ‘Okay I qu…...’ I heard a door open down the line and a voice say ‘Mister Yildiz, we’ve been listening to your call, pass me the phone now’ then I heard the voice more clearly ‘Mister McGhee, it’s Special Agent Lance Field, when I find you whether in Turkey or an EU country or wherever else you decide to rock up, I will be doing everything in my power to arrest you and bring you and your cronies to justice’ Click. == == == == ==
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This made me lol out loud
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The Journeyman Jock - The end is in sight I walked into the room, and sat there was Umut Gedik, my captain with a shallow look on his face ‘Where is he?’ ‘I don’t know bossman’ he said in his gruff voice, his English getting better by the day, my Turkish stagnating ‘He’s a pr*ck, he knows I wanted him to be here with us to go over the last game of the season’ ‘I think he’s with 2 Penny Jenny again’ I’d heard that name before, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it ‘Where do I recognise that name Ummy?’ ‘I am not 1 to tell tales, but she’s a prostitute’ ‘Ahh right, that’s it, I remember being told about her when we first got here’ ‘Yes, well, she’s in demand. I mean, I think she is. He told me it’s not the first issue he’s had with her’ Now I was worried, issues with a prostitute? ‘He’s not killed her has he?’ was the only thing I could think of asking ‘No. Well I don’t think he has. He sent me a text saying he’s at the doctors again’ ‘Again? What’s he done this time?’ ‘How you say, erm, he had a clap?’ ‘The clap? F*cking idiot, from this Jenny?’ ‘He’s been there 3 times since you’ve been in Turkey’ ‘3 f*cking times, with the clap?!?’ ‘No, the first time he got something stuck and had to….’ I cut him off ‘Don’t tell me what he got stuck and better yet don’t tell me where he got it stuck, I don’t wanna know. We’ll have to deal with this ourselves’ but before moving on to the final league game of the season, I had to ask ‘why is she called Two Penny Jenny?’ ‘Well in a bar in a small part of Ankara there is a machine that sells flavoured cigars that she always smokes, and they’re 2 Lira each and you can only pay with 1 Lira coins. As long as you pay her with at least 2 Lira coins she’s yours, Two Penny Jenny’ ‘That can’t be true’ ‘I wouldn’t know bossman’ he said, sheepishly --------------------------------------- We stumbled our way into the final game of the season, managing to sit fifth in the table on 55 points with a 1 point advantage over Gumushanespor. All we had to do was match their result in the next and final league game and we’d be in the playoffs. The game against Polati Bugsasspor ended with us scraping by 2-1 to seal a fifth place finish. I say scraping by, we lost Umut a couple of weeks before the game with a sprained ankle, Aktay came back from injury but went down again the week leading up to the final game but just passed a fitness and managing to score in the game, first choice right back Alaettin Tur had his season ended in February with a broken ankle and Mo Bayr, first choice left back, and the only left footed full back in the team missed a few games with a muscle issue. We also went 8 games without a win from February up until the start of April where we managed to win 4 in a row, with impressive back to back 5-1 wins to secure the play off finish We’d been drawn against Aydinspor in the play offs, who we beat 3-0 earlier in the season, but who took the p*ss and battered us 6-1 in the 8th game of that run of no wins. They carried that form against us into the playoffs as they secured a 2-1 win at our place with a late winner, but absolutely cemented the win with a 4-2 victory at their ground, to go through 6-3 on aggregate A play off finish was more than I was expecting and the result in the play off aside, I was happy with how my first season in Ankara had gone. The league had even been gracious enough to ignore the recent match fixing speculation and award me with the manager of the year award, which in a meeting with the team I told them I wouldn’t have won the award without their efforts. I also told them I expected to sign Aktay permanently, we’d agreed the fee with his parent club, Ugur would be coming back and we’d be aiming for a top 2 finish next season, something we all agreed was a realistic aim. == == == == == ==
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You should be put into the FMS hall of fame for this comment alone!
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The Journeyman Jock - Confidential information Time 14:05 February 09 2018 Interview 1 of 2. Attending / questioning officers - Lance Field and Hunter Smith Present - Joseph Mark McGhee (questioned). Wilson Barnes (solicitor representing Mister McGhee) Mister McGhee attended under no duress or arrest. No charges made against him at the time of the interview. Investigation is still ongoing. The rain was falling in buckets in central Ankara. It was cloaking the city in a shroud of mist and bad decisions. I saw the first detective light a cigarette, the glow casting eerie shadows across his f*ck ugly face as he stood across the table from me in the dimly lit room in 1 of Ankara's police stations. His name is Hunter Smith from some place in America, who tells me he’s knee deep in a conspiracy to rig football matches, and that naturally brought him to Turkey and asking me to attend this interview. His words not mine. The other rent a cop already in the room, wearing a pinstripe suit that looks like he’d slept in it in his car, spoke with an American accent ‘Spill it sh*t bird, we know you’re fixing games’ ‘Another Yank, cute. I can’t fix myself a decent meal how the f*ck am I gonna fix a football match’ I said before the solicitor said to me ‘You don’t need to answer any questions, you’re not under arrest’ I just nod back to him. He’s been sent to me by the British embassy in Ankara, and his time is covered by legal aid we get in The UK, thank you Your Majesty. The Yank said ‘I’m Canadian, but let's keep it tight shall we. Your team, doing well, no?’ said with a hint of a snigger, he’s got pr*ckwritten all over his face. ‘Magic’ I said with a smile, the brief shakes his head and writes something down in his notepad while telling me ‘again, you’re under no obligation to respond’. I nod again, I’ve been interviewed by the police enough times, I know how this is gonna go. ‘Some say overachieving, we say cheating. Spill on that’ This time it was Lance, he’d finished his smoke and had a look on his face like he’d just finished runner up in the national lemon sucking contest. Me, in my most professional voice ‘The squads got a great manager, a good assistant who thinks just like the manager, and we’ve got some great players. I’m good at what I do’ The brief still writing in his book. Behind the Yank-Canadian, Lance stands up and walks to the opposite side of the room, where he lights another smoke. Before the voluntary interview started the solicitor, from Oxford in England, told me this Lance guy has a reputation as murky as the shadows of the Glasgow underground. He’s clearly the puppet master pulling the strings on this investigation. I size him up with a look that’s part suspicion to keep him on his toes, and part defiance. I’m guilty of a lot of things, but match fixing isn’t one of them. ‘Riddle me this mister football manager. Fatih Aktay, 20 years old, 5 years at a pro club, 1 season in the first team at Altinordu last year, manages 1 goal in 10 games. This season he’s buried 22 so far. That seem off to you? Lance said from the dimly doorway of the room while taking a puff on his cigarette ‘Like I said, great manager. We play to his strengths’ ‘You’re team is relegation fodder at best, there’s no way you would be fifth in the league without some outside interference’ this time the Yank-Canadian Hunter speaking ‘Outside interference?’ I said before saying ‘this isn’t wrestling you crank, it’s me and my team playing out of our skins every week and getting the results we deserve’ the solicitor took my hand and turned me and him to face away from the cops ‘I’m advising you, again, that you don’t need to answer anything, remember you’re not under arrest, and anything you do say could implicate you’ I could see he was either getting sick of me or sick of being here. Probably me. ‘Right, but I’ve got nout to hide so why don’t…..’ he cut me off ‘So say no comment from now on, and if they had anything to arrest you with they’d have produced it by now’ From then on I was asked a handful of questions that were unrelated to the investigation, what I think to the weather in Turkey, things about life in Scotland, how I’ve managed to p*ss off the full Northern Ireland Football Association, how many women I’d taken to bed, irrelevant stuff. I just no commented my way through the next 20 minutes Lance, 5 cigs deep said ‘that’s it for today Mister Football Manager, however we will have more questions for you, I just need to get some documents together, if you’d grace us with your presence again, say in the next couple of days?’ The solicitor says it’s up to me, I’m not under arrest (yet) and if anything comes from it being cooperative will go some way in my favour. I just nod, say yeah whatever, and we leave the station. ----------------------------------------------------- Interview 2 of 2 Time 11:15 February 13 2018 Interview 2 of 2. Attending / questioning officers - Lance Field and Hunter Smith Present - Joseph Mark McGhee (questioned). Wilson Barnes (solicitor for Mister McGhee) Mister McGhee attended under no duress or arrest. No charges made against him at the time of the interview. Investigation is still ongoing. Agent Field has procured more evidence since the last interview, not disclosing as labelled as circumstantial. Mister Barnes has declined to view the evidence obtained so far. ‘How did you meet Robert Robson?’ Hunter Smith, the pr*ck from Canada speaking ‘The doctor, known him since I was about 10, why?’ the truth. ‘The doctor, hmm, why do you call him that?’ ‘I actually don’t know’ Another truth, he just asked me to start calling him it not long after we got to Ankara. ‘He’s been known as other things though hasn't he, spill on that’ ‘He’s a big unit, and at school he used to be called the bridge cos of his size, but he insisted everyone stopped people calling him that’ ‘Why’ ‘Because nobody crosses him and gets away with it’ another truth, he’s massive. ‘How don’t they get away with crossing him, what does he do?’ F*ck, have I dropped him in something? ‘No comment’ ‘What’s his daily routine like? ‘He drinks at least 15 drinks a day, every day, his livers made of pure steel’ the number of drinks is probably true, I’m surprised his liver hasn’t packed in yet though Lance Field, the other rent a cop in the room, making notes in his notepad, I look over and I’m sure my solicitor is trying to hide a little laughter ‘Where’s he living, is it with you?’ The Canadian this time. ‘Nah not with me’ my first lie of the interview ‘Where then?’ ‘Well his house in Ankara burnt down, so he’s moved to the Koroglu mountains and has a mountain lion as a pet’ I waited until Lance wrote that down and continued ‘My mans friends with Mufasa, he loves animals, he says unlike humans they don’t talk sh*t, it’s a genius point’ another lie, he lives with me, minus any lions, mountain or otherwise in my rented flat round the corner from the stadium ‘He’s a crackhead dope seller isn’t he’ ‘I dunno about selling, so no comment on that. But before we left Scotland for Turkey he had all his and my family around for Sunday dinner, and at the end of the main course he dropped a bag of meth on the table and declared it’s time for dessert. Such a sweet tooth’ A white lie mixed with exaggerating the truth, he did drop the meth on the table, but only me, the Doctor and our mates Trev and Bazza were present, and it was in a KFC in Edinburgh. ‘So he’s out of control then?’ ‘Nah he’s kosher, he’s completely in control of himself’ Biggest lie yet. ‘Tell me something about him I don’t already know or that’s not in this folder I’ve got on him’ Lance pulled the folder from his side of the table and let it sit in front of me. The folder was quite thick, I was starting to worry a bit now ‘Well we had a bet once who could go longest without showering and still get laid, all I can say is he won, and it wasn’t even close. He’s a f*cking legend’ the most solid truth yet. ‘Okay, I can see you’re not taking this very seriously Mister McGhee, so I’ll lay it out like this although I’m willing to bet you know all of this’ he took a sip of his drink and continued ‘your friend, and you by association for now, are involved in a number of illegal activities’ I was dying to say it’s only illegal if you get caught, but thought better of it. ‘Match fixing is the reason why we’re here from The States, and have got officers and detectives from The UK, Spain and France involved in this thing as well. From what we’ve learned so far, it’s not small time games, it’s far reaching and there’s some big names implicated in this’ I looked to the solicitor but the cop clocked me ‘No, no you don’t need to say anything or get advice just yet, let me finish’ He pulled another folder out of his bag, just as big as the first one he pulled out. He opened the first page and I saw a list of what looked like football results ‘here’s a sample of the games we’ve found to have been influenced’ I tried to look but he covered the sheet ‘how many Etimesgut games do you think are in here?’ I looked at the solicitor who was making notes in his pad, and decided not to say anything. ‘Your silence is very telling Mister McGhee. Let me ask you this, since the last time we spoke your team has lost a few games and drawn the other, that not concerning to you?’ ‘No, why should….’ he cut me off ‘You were flying up until the new year, won your first game after the break and now you’ve dropped to sixth and could miss the playoffs’ ‘Not sure what you’re getting at, but let me remind you that we boast the leagues leading scorer who’s injured and won’t be back for another 2 months. We’ve got the leagues leading assist man as well as the keeper with the most clean sheets in the league. 6 games after a break don’t define a season inspector’ ‘It’s Special Agent, but go on’ I didn’t have much else to say on it really. We’d lost some games after the break, so what? ‘Beating teams for fun, scoring loads of goals with a team of nobodies and no hopers, almost like your team were given opportunities to win’ he took a moment and pulled a sheet out of the file ‘not to mention the sudden surge in bets being made on your games, not just in Ankara but we’ve seen bets made on your games all over Turkey and in Greece. What can you tell me about that?’ ‘Winning is the whole point of a football match is it not?’ I was getting a bit annoyed now ‘Look, I’ve done a lot of things, a lot of bad illegal things in my time, but not once, and never will I ever ask a player to take a dive, or let a goal in or get a yellow card on purpose, it’s not….’ cut off by this Lance pr*ck, again ‘Who said anything about asking players to get a card on purpose or let goals in? We never said that, what do you know of this?’ F*ck. The solicitor pulled me around to have our backs to the police ‘I told you to keep quiet, now you’ve dropped yourself in it, no shut up now (I tried to speak), just either say no comment to their questions or we say we’re leaving, they’ve got no hard evidence, or if they do they’re withholding it’ ‘They’ve got nothing on me’ I said before turning back around and just no commenting everything from then on ‘You’re clearly taking the quiet approach, which is fine. But trust me when I say this, I’ve got enough on your pal the Doctor and those political nobodies that you both hang around with that I’ll be bringing you both down before long’ ‘If there’s nothing else, special agent Field, we’ll be going now’ the solicitor said as we got up and left the police station. == == == == ==
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The Journeyman Jock - The great equaliser, and the common denominator The Doctor was sat in the driver seat, I was trying to get the seatbelt on in the passenger side as he dodged and weaved the rental car in and out of the rush hour traffic of the Monday afternoon of New Year's day in Ankara Answering him when he arrived at my flat with his question 'We gonna celebrate then?' was my first mistake of the day, the second being drinking out of his hip flask as I was getting in the car 'Whisky?' I asked, immediately regretting my decision to take a swig. I knew straight away it wasn't just whisky 'Yeah, I crushed and tipped 4 of these acid tabs I picked up earlier into the whisky bottle, emptied out a full strip of your Oxycodone tablets, crushed them up, mixed them with a gram of this banging coke I got off some geezer last night, put that in the whisky bottle, mixed it up with a drop of vodka and half a bottle of lime juice and poured it in that hip flask. Give it a minute will ya' 'A minute for what?' I asked, instantly realising the situation would be changing any minute. Booze, piece of p*ss easy, takes me a while to get really drunk, I am Scottish after all. And acid I can deal with, I've done it plenty of times and on occasions still do take acid but that has calmed down since I became a football manager. Any acid freak can handle hallucinations, but mixing my opioid painkiller tablets with acid and coke is another deal altogether 'The Molly will kick in first that's gonna bring you up, then the booze and painkillers is gonna make your nerves a bit jittery, it's good whisky by the way I paid a pretty penny for it. After that the painkillers are gonna do whatever they do to your pain receptors in the brain and then....' he sort of just phased out of my vision as I became lightheaded and my head started spinning, a feeling I’ve not felt in a while. I looked up and saw a giant man that looked familiar. I rubbed my eyes and realised it was Axel from Streets of Rage, and he was hanging off the side of a big building knocking airplanes and helicopters out of the sky 'You seen that Bob?' I asked the Doctor, who was still talking but his mouth was getting wider and wider and on his teeth I could see a little mouth with even smaller teeth of its own talking to each other, seemingly in an argument of some sort. Trying to figure out the scene in front of me I noticed he'd gotten up from in front of the steering wheel, leaned into the back seat of the car and pulled out a bottle of water, while the car was still moving in and out of traffic. The water then smiled and asked me if I wanted any of him, I said no I don't think so, and my friend then sat back down and asked 'you alright kidda?' 'Yeah, your teeth, they're talking to me, the water asked if I wanted some of it, some of him?' 'You're not turning gay on me are you? What ya' mean my teeth are talking to you?' I didn't know if he said that out loud or if I was thinking it, either way my head was frazzled, and the teeth had stopped talking and looked back at me, folded their arms and was giving me the evils, the sort of look your mother gives you when she says 'when I say no I mean no' and you stop nagging and pestering for whatever she had said no to. I looked away from the teeth and then back to the road. It opened up into a big driveway, a huge house at the end of a cul-de-sac with bright purple lights that reminded me of Big Gay Al's animal sanctuary. Then the pterodactyl landed within an inch of my face, pointed its big wings to the left and said in a Geordie accent ‘that way to the party hinny’ then nodded to the right ‘that way to Greggs’ and flew back behind the house. We carried on going left, the leprechauns and swans were perfectly lined up singing a song, something about a sixpence and being none the richer, they all looked happy enough despite being chained together with shackles on their ankles. I was getting a bit jittery so I took another swig of the whisky drink, then had a lager drink, and then a vodka drink and then I sang a song about a good time. My friend pulled the car into a parking space and said 'mixing painkillers and acid, that sh*t's insane innit mate' I could only agree, I've not had a trip this strong since before I got to Turkey. I got out of the car by tapping A three times and doing a Mario 64 style triple jump and I vaguely recall coming to this house at some point and meeting with the girl, how I got into contact with her I can’t remember or even when I came here the first time. Apparently she was one for the people, a peoples champ so to speak, and dismayed at the government for lack of everything and wanting to fight back against the man. I remember speaking to her last time, and she said she’s from Canada, or America, or was it Ireland? She greeted me on the way in and said 'I'm glad you're back, last time you left without giving me a goodbye kiss' I just played the cool guy and shrugged her off with a wink. She was wearing a green silk dress, the green against her brown hair and blue eyes stood out to me, I’m a sucker for that combo in a woman. I got a bottle of Turkish beer from the cooler on the way into the main room of the house and heard a guy saying, in perfect English no less 'It's all going to come down to money comrades. The great equaliser, and the common denominator' I was starting to come down from the cocktail of substances the Doctor gave me on the drive over, and the cold sweat came on next. There is nothing more helpless to me that I'd found in this world than an acid comedown. Heaven knows why I keep taking the sh*t. I'm nothing if irresponsible when I'm flowing in the depths of an acid comedown, and I knew I'd be knee deep in that rotten sh*t very soon. 'Ignore the sweat and jitters flower' I said to the girl 'been a long day, and stressful as a football manager'. She smiled and did that giggle thing those trophy bird types do. 'We've been watching your team with great interest. You’re doing really well I’m sure the people backing your team are happy’ she said with another giggle. Her perfect brown hair and blue eyes illuminated with every motion. Again I played the cool guy schtick ‘Ahh it’s nout love. Pick 11 players from the team, tell em in no uncertain terms to turn up, freak out and win the match, job done’ Not wanting there to be an awkward silence I quickly said ‘remind me again what it is you do. You know I’m an up and coming world class football manager’ with another wink. ‘Oh you’ve forgotten, have you?’ giggle again ‘I’m with Turkey for the People, you know the up and coming political party. We’ve got interests in all sorts of ventures’ Opening my fourth bottle of cheap Turkish beer and not being remotely interested in her other ventures, I said ‘such as?’ ‘Oh you know, commerce, sporting projects, property management….’ She kept rambling off words and phrases, I didn’t have a clue what she was babbling on about and I could feel another trip coming on, I also just assumed she was drunk so passed her another bottle of beer, the Doctor then appeared like an RKO from out of nowhere, with a plate with 4 lines of powder and a 10 Lira note on it, me and the girl hoovering up 2 lines each. ‘With politics everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves, loan sharks, pimps and killers, the final sin is stupidity’; she said it in a perfect way that just rolled off the tongue, as if practiced. She wanted me to carry on drinking with her, and being Scottish, I drank. Not only did I drink but I drank this little cow under the table. Bottle after bottle I was absolutely leathered. She's definitely one for small talk and never really shut up, and she asked me, with both of us steaming drunk by this point, how I get by with the pressures of being a football manager. Not really sure she realises that I’m at a lowly third division club, I replied by saying ‘I hate to promote hard drug use, excessive beer drinking and the occasional prostitute, but they’ve always worked for me’. She smiled, kissed my cheek and said ‘I’ll see you around. I hope’ I hated to see her leave but I loved watching her go, and I went for a walk around the spacious house after she left. I found my friend who had a clown mask on and was wearing exactly no clothes but had a Scotland flag draped around his neck and wearing it as a cape, whilst dancing on a table with 4 midget ladies all of whom were also wearing masks of various designs and little to no clothes themselves. I then went further down the corridor and into a small kitchen area, where I saw 2 Elvis impersonators arguing over who could sing Jailhouse Rock better, whilst someone that looked an awful lot like Noel Edmonds stood by and agreed with the fatter of the 2 Elvis’s. I carried on my blissful walk and found myself turning into another spacious living room, where I saw Max Payne and Baseball Bat Boy deep into a game of chess. I leaned over and said to Baseball Bat Boy ‘move your bishop 3 spaces that way (I pointed where) take that rook and he’s in check’. The Baseball Bat said thanks and did as I suggested. Max just looked at me and moved his hand slowly, as if in bullet time. That was my cue to leave the room. I said goodbye to one of the Elvis's, got a hug from Noel and I shook hands with 3 of the 4 midgets my friend was dancing with earlier, number 4 and my friend conspicuous by their absence, and I tried to find my way home. Trouble being, I had no idea where I currently was. == == == == ==
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The Journeyman Jock - Another new day in Ankara All things considered (beer, drugs, women, football in that order) life in the Turkish capital couldn’t be going any better. By December 17th and heading into a short break the team has been very accommodating to me and my tactics. 18 league games producing 11 wins, 2 draws and 5 losses, not bad for someone like me eh, but I’ll take it. My predecessor leaving before he got the chance to see the 20 goals (19 in the league) scored by the kid he signed on loan, Fatih Aktay, or the 14 goals (10 in the league) and 9 assists by his strike partner Emre Ozturk. Those 11 wins mean we are good for fifth place heading into the new year. My worry now is twofold. Firstly I’m concerned with a repeat of the second half of the season in Bangor, we started really well, lost a key player and stuffed it in the second half of the season. The second worry is Fatih Aktay has got himself injured, a key player for us just like Pavel Vieira was for me in Bangor this time last year. He’s out for at least 3 months tearing a muscle in his groin. He assures me this was done in training and not doing something else, apparently he's got a number of different women on the go, I see a lot of myself in him at times. The saving grace is Mark, my assistant manager has used his connections in Germany and we’ve managed to sign young forward Ugur Turk on loan from 1860 Munich to play cover for Aktay, and unlike in Bangor I’ve got more than a 1 man team here in Turkey. Also we’d been informed by the Turkish FA that a police investigation was taking place in relation to match fixing. The investigation had been going for a few weeks and they’d apparently implicated players at teams in Turkey, as well as other players in other places in Europe. I’d not bothered keeping up with it, I was doing my best to keep my head down and out of any trouble that might end up with me getting the boot like I did at Bangor not too long ago. There were no disclosure agreements in place and that no one that has been accused of match fixing would be made public until the courts have everything they need, but it seemed obvious to fans as a couple of prominent players from Beskitas had been missing the last 2 weeks. My friend, The Doctor told me ‘Now there’s a potential earner, we should fix your matches’ I shot down his idea rapid quick ‘Shut up. Gear and prostitutes I can get on with, but match fixing I draw the line’ ‘Right, you respect the game too much’ ‘Something like that’ He just shook his head and then said ‘New Years day we’re invited to a party by the way’ ‘Right’ I said, not really wanting to think where he’d got us an invite for this time. Since being in Turkey we’ve been to a number of these parties the Doctor has found for us, and all of them have involved copious amounts of powder and beer, and have lasted more than a couple of days each, not that I’m moaning. Me enjoying myself and letting the team play without any pressure has gotten us a lot more wins than it has losses, so I think we’ll keep doing things the way we already are. == == == == ==
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The Journeyman Jock - A new day in Ankara ‘Check’ we both said at the same time as I burned a card and laid the final card in the middle of the table ‘Son of a, what you call in your language?’ Mark Jauk, my new Austrian assistant manager, who’s quite good speaking English, minus the swear words, said ‘Well where I’m from we usually say son of a f*cking Glaswegian, but the actual saying is son of a b*tch. Why?’ ‘Well you might want to be saying it in a moment, all in’ he said whilst moving his remaining stack of chips into the middle of the table ‘Are you sure? I’ve won every hand so far mate’ ‘Not this one. This is where I start to get my money back’ Mark said as he sat smugly holding his 2 cards In the middle of the table laid face up is the 8 of hearts, Jack of clubs, 4 of spades, 8 of diamonds and the 2 of hearts. I counted the same number of chips out that Mark had pushed to the middle, a lot less than my own amount, and said ‘Go on then, show me’ ‘Read them and then wee boy, 2 pair!’ He shouted with a big smile on his face as he laid his cards down, the 3 of clubs and 3 of spades Shaking my head and trying and failing not to laugh I said ‘It’s read it and weep, but do you ever listen? I’ve won again’ and I turned my 2 cards over and revealed the King of clubs and the 8 of spades ‘I’m sure the first hand you lost was my 3 of a kind to your 2 pair’ ‘This is wrong. I have 4 winning cards with 2 pairs. Your 3 cards should not be beating me’ ‘They do, as we’ve been over already. Give me your money, again’ He pushed his chips over to me, more than reluctantly and with a scowl on his face, not for the first time today either ‘Don’t spend my 5 Lira all at once will you’ he said sarcastically Prior to that poker game we’d had a training session with my new team, and what a difference to the players I was responsible for in Bangor. There was some actual talent in this team, I’m still not sure how I got the gig, but I was here, and ready to implement my style on the team 'I expect a lot of work both on and off the ball. I want aggressive pressing and tackling to win the ball back, and I want us to get it up top as quickly as possible. I'm not expecting any of that one touch no look ticky tacky cr*p or using buzz words like gegen pressing or whatever. We've got 1 objective this season, and that's becoming a secure side and putting the building blocks in place to eventually get us out of this division' I said, quietly assuming to myself that I’ll last to the end of this season, never mind beyond. The rest of the day was spent with me meeting the players individually, discussing their strengths and weaknesses and giving out individual aims for the upcoming season. After meeting and assessing the players, I met with the other staff the club had on it’s books to compliment Mark. On the staff are Mehet Taskin & Yuel Alva, both first team coaches. In my mind I’d figured I’d see how tactically savvy they are, and based on ratings of 1-20 they’ve got a tactics coaching rating of 7. That’s a combined tactics coaching rating of 7. Mark gets a 10 on his own. I won’t bother you with what other stats they don’t excel in. I thought I’ll have to get my own backroom staff in eventually, not that I knew many players yet alone staff available in Turkey anyway, and I would have to spend the first part of my time in Ankara tolerating the skills, or lack of, from the clubs existing backroom staff. The difference between their skills and that of a dead ferret was that a dead ferret wasn’t employed at Etimesgut at the same time that I was. I looked at them in a pitiful sort of way, and I don’t know who felt more f*cked, them for having me as the boss, or me for having that sorry lot to rely on. Before the last man got the boot he’d signed Fatih Aktay on loan from recently relegated to our division Altinordu FC and he looks like he’s got potential to be good, and I’m sure he’ll do the business for us. At 6 foot 2, he can jump, get into good positions and has decent strength, he’s got target man written all over him. The other starting forward is right winger-cum striker Emre Ozturk. He’s not as strong or imposing, is slightly shorter at 5 foot 10 but is quicker being a natural right winger, got a decent touch on him and it’s an easy choice to go with the big man / not as big man combo up top. Both look solid enough for the Turkish third division but both look a world apart from the forwards that reported to me in Bangor. Sorry Dale Patton, you did the job in Ireland but I've got Fatih Aktay to scratch my center forward itch this season. Ending the first day I was greeted by one of the clubs longest serving players, center half Umut Gedik. He’s as tall as me at 6’ 3’’, slightly better looking with long flowing hair I’m dead jealous of, but an all round pro. After reading my coaches report given to me by Mark earlier, I note that Umut, despite being labelled the best center half in the squad, apparently has low concentration. I don’t want to think of him chasing butterflies around the pitch while the other more illustrious teams in Turkey’s third division rip through our defensive line, so I make him the captain in the hopes that it makes him more focused. He did help me settle in the capital to be fair and he showed me around the town after training. I told him I’d been drinking in that bar in the Mamek district and we should go there for a few ‘F*ck no bossman. We go to a place of culture, of real beer and real women’. I told him women I’m a fan of and culture is always nice. He smiled and led the way to a taxi rank which took us to a better looking boozer than the one I’ve been frequenting these last couple of days. In keeping with showing him who’s boss, I nine balled him 3 times in a row as we played pool but he had my number at darts. My friend the Doctor got talking to a girl at the bar and she told us about an all night poker game at the club next door. I’m fresh off winning a few rounds against Mark earlier in the day so felt it was only right to take my winning form into the all night game, my friend also tagging along with me and my newly appointed captain. Umut told me I can rely on him this season, anything I need I can rely on him. He told me he’ll keep the lads in line, hand out punishment when needed and generally have my back. I said ‘thanks Ummy, but you’re not getting out of giving me back the 300 Lira you just lost to me’ He smiled and grabbed a couple more beers from the bar as we sat down to carry on the poker game. Before the opening game of the season, I’ve missed the pre-season friendly games the team have had while I got my sh*t together for the move over to Turkey, we go right into competitive action, well, as competitive as Tokat Sports Club away can be. I’m also provided pre season odds by the local media, who reckon Etimesgut are good for a mid table finish. I feel this little piece of information is rendered ineffective seeing as how the manager is Jock McGhee and not an actual football manager with any level of meaningful experience or competence. == == == == ==
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This is why I love FM. Random as hell things going on that would never happen in real life. Keep it up, great read this.