Kasper Jameson

The team cohesion is certainly going to be an early challenge to address - not really at the highest level right now. But the crop of players brought in makes it all the more exciting. Really looking forward to seeing how I can get the best out of Freuler at the heart of the midfield. Plus Niakhate looks to be the real deal and could help shape up the defence - if he avoids an early injury like he did irl. Ta for the luck! We're going to need every bit of luck! Gonna be a tough ol' season ahead.

A twenty-three year exile from the apex of English football. A nerve racking ninety minutes on a late Spring afternoon in Wembley. If you'd had asked any fan of Nottingham Forest - myself included - if we'd see the club walking away victorious at the home of football towards to the end of last season; I'd imagine that we would have laughed at your face! It's hard to forget that, as the 2021/22 EFL Championship Season was well into September, Forest were rock bottom of the league with zero wins in their opening seven games. Panic was a word often used by the media, who often described the club as one in crisis: both on and off of the pitch. The club's dire form on the pitch had, inevitably, cost Chris Hughton his job in the dugout. A manager known for his knack at getting clubs promoted out of the Championship, his defensive tactics and souring relationship with the fanbase ultimately led to his downfall. It wasn't just the former manager who was facing backlash, but the owner as well. Regardless of opinions about Evangelos Maranakis, when he took over the club from the Fawaz Al-Hasawi in mid-2017, there were expectations of a revival under the Greek shipping magnate. It has taken it's time - with the club coming closest to a Playoff berth during the much delayed 2019/20 season; only to have Swansea City spoil the party. But that was the past. And with the departure of Chris Hughton, Forest turned to the services of Steve Cooper; and, as the ol' saying goes, the rest is history... And this is where I find myself: managing Nottingham Forest in their return season to the Premier League on FM23. The main objective of this save is to ensure that Forest are a stable Premier League clubs, whilst maintaining their long held policy of developing talented academy players and bringing them into the first team. I do also want to utilise the history of the club in my targets and ambitions for this save. Yes, that does mean I will be aiming to better Brian Clough's record at the club. Not an original idea, but one I shall be following up on nonetheless. CLUB HISTORY: A RECENT ACCOUNT OF TURMOIL AND REVIVAL Rather than recall the history of the club from the days of it's inception to the reign of Brian Clough and Peter Taylor, I figured that it would be worth outlining a more recent account of Nottingham Forest's turbulent history over the last decade. There are a few reasons for this: I think I'd be wasting time retelling the accounts of Forest's European conquests; I think most, if not everyone on reading this, would be familiar in one way or another of the club; and, for the sake of context, the events of the last decade have had a great impact on how the club looks today! On July 11th 2012, it was made public that the Al-Hasawi family - based in Kuwait - had taken full ownership of the club. For those unfamiliar, Forest were in a dire state both on and off of the pitch. Back in February of that year Nigel Doughty, then chairman and financial benefactor of the club, had passed away. Coupled with Forest narrowly avoiding the drop into League One at the conclusion of the season and facing financial uncertainty, it meant that going into the pre-season, only a handful of first team players were on the books. The Al-Hasawi family commenced a mass overhaul - something which would become more and more common under their stewardship. Sean O'Driscoll was brought in to replace the outgoing Steve Cotterill and a couple million pounds was spent to overhaul the squad. The season started better than the previous; the club were yielding better results on the pitch and, by Christmas, were three points out from a Playoff berth. Surely nothing could stop the momentum. Following a Boxing Day victory away to Leeds United at Elland Road, fans learned that O'Driscoll had been dismissed as the manager of Forest. Out of the blue really doesn't say enough. It was quite the shock. A manager who was edging the club closer and closer to the Playoffs; who had a good enough relationship with the fans and was getting results on the pitch, was suddenly put out of a job by the owners. It just didn't make any sense. But, then the rumours began to gain traction. In some corners it was said that a decision had been made for O'Driscoll to be sacked on Christmas Day, only for Chief Executive Mark Arthur to refuse the order from chairman Fawaz Al-Hasawi. It was also reported that the Al-Hasawi family sought advice from the board of Hull City that they needed a manager with Premier League experience. Either way, this was the start of the downward spiral for the club in the modern era. During December, Fawaz Al-Hasawi made the decision to become the sole Chairman of the football club and, with that, be in the firing line of the fans anger in the years ahead. He appointed former Aston Villa manager Alex McLeish as the new manager in what would be remembered as a dismal 40-day reign in the dugout. Throughout McCleish's short spell the club performed poorly on the pitch and a botched transfer for George Boyd, then of Peterborough United, would dominate the headlines over a 'failed eye test'. McCleish would depart the club only a few weeks after the Winter transfer window closed. Al-Hasawi opted to tap into some nostalgia in an effort to win back the support of the fanbase by rehiring Billy Davis, the manager who had led Forest to two consecutive Playoff Semi-Finals. The appointment coincided with Al-Hasawi speaking more and more to the media, and making such lofty claims that Davis was the club''s equivalent to Sir Alex Ferguson and seeing Forest return to the Champions League at some point in the future. It all backfired, as results on the pitch continued to diminish and Davies would go on to impose a media blackout during his second spell at The City Ground. It would cost the Scotsman his job, and would further dent the credibility of Al-Hasawi. Stuart Pearce, Dougie Freedman and Phillipe Montanier were all brought in to steer the ship but, with the continued meddling of a paranoid Chairman, they all wouldn't last. Coupled with unpaid wages, bills and a transfer embargo, the writing was on the wall. The fans had had enough: it was clear that Fawaz Al-Hasawi had to go! Following a 3-0 victory over Ipswich Town on the final day of the 2016-17 season, Al-Hasawi confirmed that the club had been sold to Greek shipping magnate, Evangelos Marinakis. Whilst results on the pitch were slow during the first few seasons under Marinakis' tenure as owner, the 55-year old began to invest heavily in the redevelopment of the club's academy and training facilities; as well as submit and see the approval of a proposed £50 million redevelopment of The City Ground. For club that had been neglected off the pitch for almost a decade, it was welcomed news for the fans and the city as a whole. It wouldn't be until the conclusion of the 2021/22 season that the long game had paid off for Marinakis; as he would be the owner to see Forest return to the bright lights of the Premier League. And that, is where we find ourselves today... Now, I can only apologise for the long intro to this save, but it is incredibly important to establish context as to how far the club has come over the past decade. Considering that Forest faced the possibility of relegation to League One on two separate occasions, and the threat of administration, it has been a journey of highs and many lows. Plenty of clubs across the country have faced similar situations over the past decade - many of whom who haven't been so lucky. But looking at the lessons of the past can certainly help to prepare you for the future, and that's how I intend to approach this save with Nottingham Forest. The Academy, Player Development & Recruitment I've discussed the turbulent period that Nottingham Forest have endured over the past decade but perhaps it is worth noting that one of the highlights during those troubled days was the plethora of academy graduates that came through the ranks. Some have been able to stay and contribute greatly to the club's turn in fortunes. Club captain Joe Worrall and Vice-Captain Ryan Yates are still considered one-club players and have become fan favourites: both for their loyalty to the badge and their commitment both on and off the pitch. These two were mainstays in the promotion campaign last season and will likely play key roles in the campaign to come. Perhaps the most exciting prospect to emerge from the academy is Wales international, Brennan Johnson. Following a stellar breakout season at The City Ground last season - where the 21-year old scored 16 goals in 46 league appearances - big things are expected of Johnson for the season ahead: where he'll likely spearhead our attack as we aim to push for Premier League survival. Keeping a hold of Brennan will be a challenge in itself, but my long term aim is to build the first team around the talented youngster. Which does lead me on to discussing the summer recruitment drive that the club underwent. Oh boy... 22 players signed and £145,800,000 spent! Talk about an overhaul. Now, I could spend the next few paragraphs discussing how each and every signing will fit into my plans for the season ahead, but I will leave that for the next entry where I plan to outline my tactical set up for the season ahead. But would be an injustice to not address what many onlookers consider to be the elephant in the room: a newly promoted club outspending the majority of top European clubs on incoming players. This has been a common case over the past few seasons: most notably with Fulham and Norwich City. Of course, what followed with those two clubs was relegation from the Premier League and it's been hard to shake the label. My aim is to prove the doubters wrong and ensure that we put all of those signings to good use and ensure that this club thrives and prospers. This does mean being more fiscally minded in the seasons ahead - maybe I'll adopt a Moneyball approach. This is subject to debate... Final Thoughts... There is a lot that I want to accomplish with Nottingham Forest and the main focus of the save will be centred on turning the club into a Premier League mainstay. I do have a list of objectives and targets that I will hope to tick off as the save progresses, and these will be outlined in the next entry. I did think long and hard about perhaps taking the Wales National Team job if the opportunity arose, mainly to further develop Brennan Johnson, but I have opted to just keep myself at The City Ground for the duration of this save. At the end of the day, I'm not looking to overdo myself and to keep it as simple and fun as I can. If you have read all the way to this point, I really appreciate it. Any feedback, advice or words of encouragement is greatly apricated and I'll do my best to respond as quickly as possible. I'm really excited to be kicking off this journey and cannot wait to bring out the next post.

* * * The magic of the FA Cup is never lost, no matter how far down the pyramid you may find yourself. I would often spend Saturdays with my father and siblings, sitting in front of the TV and watching the scores unfold. My grandfather, bless his soul, was a bigger fan of Teletext. The neon colours and block text always hurt my eyes, but it always kept my Grandfather well informed - if he wasn’t asleep in his armchair. But now I found myself in a new place to observe the FA Cup in all its glory. From the dugout, and leading my very own club to new found heights. Or so, that was the hope. The night before the tie, I had invited Panny and his other half, Jessica, to my house for a home cooked meal. For me, it was a great excuse to unwind and enjoy an evening of company with two close friends. For the both of them, it was the first night in seven months that they’d been able to free up following the birth of their daughter. Despite the circumstances of our coming together, I could only express gratitude as they sat and ate at my table. The topics of conversation went on through the night, never discussing football once. We talked about our days together at university; the lost years spent in London trying to navigate doomed careers and our return to the South West. Perhaps it was the wine, but I began to feel very sentimental. Seeing my best friend bring his family along for our journey with Falmouth Town: it added a fresh perspective. Knowing that success both on and off of the pitch would impact our futures greatly. Everything felt very intertwined. As our evening came to a close, I found myself sitting on the front porch - wine in hand and being lost in thought. Panny came outside to keep me company, leaving Jessica to fall asleep on the living room couch. One too many glasses of wine seemed to have gotten to her. Poor thing. Panny patted me on the shoulder as came to take a seat beside me. He knew what was on my mind. "I wouldn't worry too much about tomorrow, bud," he said, taking a swig of his wine. I sighed, knowing he was right. "I'm not. But I do want to do the town proud come kick off." "Then let's just go out guns blazing and put on a real show," said Panny. "After all, the Cup won't define our time here. It's a marathon, not a sprint, remember." I nodded in silence, as we both stared at the first glimpses of sunlight coming over the horizon...

July 23rd, 2022 - Bickland Park, Falmouth "Marcello!" I yelled. "Focus! That's two you've missed now!" I paced around the dugout area, one hand grasping a lukewarm cup of coffee and the other firmly tucked away in my coat pocket. If there was ever game to sum up our pre-season, the fixture against Holsworthy just about did the trick. Two quickfire goals from local lad Clarke Penrice put us in front but then we squandered our two-goal margin before half time. Our defence had collapsed under the pressure and now, with ten minutes played into the second half, it looked like we were ending the pre-season with a fifth consecutive draw. Lost in my thoughts, I failed to notice Panny standing next to me. If I was angry on the inside, then Panny was showing it on the outside. His animated posturing throughout the match had made it clear to the players that anything but a win would be unacceptable. We both stood still as we saw Marcello Jones break past his marker and dart forward towards the goal. The former AC Milan trainee motioned the ball past the keeper and he was clean through on goal, only to rocket the ball over the cross bar. I didn't notice that I had dropped my coffee. I couldn't believe it! "How on earth has he done that?" Panny exclaimed. I was surprised he wasn't running on to the pitch to chase Marcello around the block. I looked at the bench and signalled Mitch Jackson to get his tracksuit jacket off. "You're up," is all I could say. I turned back towards to Panny. "Get Marcello off. His night is done. Can't stomach another moment from him." Panny nodded and jogged over to the fourth official, explaining the change that was about to happen. Soon enough, Marcello was off the pitch and Mitch Jackson had taken his place. Marcello looked beaten up, and could only look at me with disappointment in his eyes. "I tried, boss," is all the young man could say. "I know," I said. "Tonight wasn't your night. Now just focus on your warm down, okay." I went back to the edge of the dugout, where Panny soon joined me. "You're too easy on the kid, you know that!". "Not really," I said. "You heard the crowd this evening. He knows he put in a dire performance. And I don't need to rub it in his face tonight. That chat will come tomorrow morning." With the focus now on the match ahead, I couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt by bringing Jackson on. At sixteen-years old, the local lad had only just finished his GCSEs and was now on his way to college. When I went over the team line up with Panny before kick-off, he was a tad surprised at the inclusion. "What is he studying again?" Panny asked. "Carpentry, I believe. Though tonight he could be our ace in the hole." Maybe I had gotten it wrong. To expect so much from such a raw player. Those doubts would soon be put to rest as Jackson, on the edge of the opposition area, sent home a curling effort into the top right corner of the goal. I couldn't help but smile as the dugout and stadium roared in applause. He would do it once more: this time with a simple tap in from a corner set piece in stoppage time. Sixteen years old and two goals in thirty-four minutes. Not a bad way to make your mark. But I knew, deep down, we still had a long way to go when the first game of the season arrived.

Welcome to Falmouth... Hello SI Community. I'm Kasper Jameson - an alter-ego and alternative persona I've had since the days of playing Championship Manager. This series will serve as my first story posted on the forums. To say I'm incredibly excited, with a hint of nervousness, would be an understatement. After spending a great deal of time combing through the great writers of this forum, I wanted to open my account and begin putting my writings out there on the forum. This is for two reasons: to engage with the wider community on here and, most importantly, to have fun and develop my skills along the way. After all, in order to grow it always helps to gain the advice and teachings of your peers. I've never considered myself to be particularly skilled at Football Manager. I've won the occasional titles here and there; taken the minnows to the top and had the privilege of overseeing a few wonderkids flourish for my teams in previous editions. But there was a period where the experience of booting up a new edition of Football Manager became stale: it lacked excitement and I often found myself questioning how I was going to stay engaged for a year's worth of gameplay. So I went back to the drawing board. I knew I was going to purchase my copy of FM23 - this would be my first purchase since FM20, where I spent three years of real time overseeing the rise of Real Union of Spain, a story I now really regret not documenting. I love not having time constraints on my saves; taking my time to fall in love with the club I'm managing and constructing a feel good story that I can be proud of. Which is what brings me to my choice of club: Falmouth Town FC. Now, I wouldn't fault anyone for not knowing much about this little football club based in the South West of England. But, it may surprise you that there is a real back story to my selection here. A number of years ago I was completing my Journalism degree at Falmouth University - I was a fresh faced student some 300 miles away from home and football was the focus point of my degree. Every weekend, if my schedule allowed, I would attend games at Bickland Park or on the road, and root on the local club. It wasn't the most exciting football played, but it made me feel more at home in a new town. Now that we're at the finish line of 2022, I found myself back in Falmouth a few months back visiting a friend who had remained in the town long after we'd graduated from university - he runs a record shop and I found it a great time going to gigs, visiting houses to pick up rare finds for his shop and just listening to classics as we drank cider on his balcony in the late summer sunshine. We also attended a home fixture at Bickland Park and my nostalgia just came back in waves. Could I manage Falmouth Town on FM? How far could I take them and how long would it take? Well, I'm here now. I'm managing a club which has me excited for all of the possibilities that could follow. And my aim is to document as much of that here on the forum. So I hope there will be a handful of you who will join me on this journey, and help guide me on my way!

Thank you so much Neil. Happy to finally get a story going here on the forums. Excited for what the possibilities will bring... Well, after having a Fish n' Chips this evening before writing up the next series of chapters, I can happily admit I was wrong regarding hot beverages. A mug of tea does do the world of good with a chip butty!

"Do you like it?" the Voice said. "I'm sorry," I responded. Looking across the table, I waited for Graham to finish his bite of the meal. "The haddock. Do you like it?" "Oh yes. Very much so." I continued to tuck in to my haddock as I observed Graham. As the chairman of Falmouth Town Football Club, I'd half expected him to a man in a state of delusion of grandeur. Owning a local club, especially in a town as small as this one, elevated your social standing and put you at the heart of the community. But it was interesting to see Graham in the flesh. A self-defined 'realist', he wasn't looking to take the club up the football pyramid within a certain number of years. He wanted it to grow organically with an influx of local talent. In all honesty, it's what attracted me to the role. That and a sense of nostalgia: coming home to the holiday town and being reminded of my university years spent at the Penryn Campus of Falmouth University. But with the meal just about wrapped up, Graham pushed his plate to one side and took a big sip from his mug of tea. A simple builder's brew. I can never understand how anyone can have a hot beverage with fish n' chips. I opted for the glass of Irn-Bru - my Scottish roots really on display. "How are you settling in?" Graham asked. I put my glass down. "Good," I said. "I just moved into a place on Burdock Terrace, right near the gallery." "That's great to hear. And I assume you've already reacquainted yourself with the town?" "Indeed. I even had an early morning run and did my best to scale Jacobs Ladder in a quick time. Can't say I haven't missed that steep climb" He let out a chuckle. A nice little ice breaker. This was turning out to be a great afternoon. Though it dawned on me that the real business would be the main topic of this little get together. Graham clasped both hands and put them on the table. "Have you taken any consideration as to who your Assistant will be?" I reached into my pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, handing it over to Graham who gave it a glance before responding. "Can't say he's someone I've heard of. Greek by any chance?" "Cypriot," I responded. "But local enough. Panny and I go way back to our days of study at Falmouth University. Both of us played on the University Team and have known each other for nearly a decade. He already has his basic coaching badges and is ready to go." A brief period of silence fell around us. Has I pushed my luck to bring a close friend into the fold? I was getting anxious. "I'm sold," Graham responded. "Have him start at the earliest opportunity." I took a big swig of my drink, knowing a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The rest of the meeting was spent discussing the budgets for the season ahead. Graham stated that he would put up £1,000 on the weekly wage bill but wouldn't entertain any other financial commitments for the time being. It didn't really faze me, as I knew the target was to secure a mid-table position by the end of the season. With our business concluded, Graham chucked a couple of notes on the table and said his farewells. I could only sit and stare outside at the harbour and watch the tiny specs of boats either arriving or departing the docks...

If there was any moment of doubt or dread in my mind, I would always find myself strolling up and down the sands of Gyllyngvase Beach. It's soft sands weren't coarse or riddled with pebbles as you would often come to find at most English beaches. And on a warm summer's day you could go barefoot and feel the heat on your toes; reminding you of days spent as a child chasing kites and building sand castles. I can see parents screaming at their children with excited enthusiasm as they rush to the crisp, cool waters of the bay. A shade of teal, but beautiful to look at none the less. I cannot help but be drawn back into the memories of when my parents would bring the family down to Falmouth for the summer holidays. Our days would be spent unwinding on this very beach, or in the rockpools just a few hundred yards away. Crabbing was always a great pastime but I never quite understood how my father would always end up with more crabs than me. Only years later would I find out it was due to the bait he was putting on the end of his line. The evenings, when the sun was still setting and the air still hot and humid, my family would gather at my grandparents house - situated along Pengarth Rise. My father and Grandfather would often engage in friendly, yet tense, debates about the current news of the day. Often, the topics of discussion would end up on the subject of football and how the game was becoming more modern, much to my Grandfather's distaste. I would usually be perched on a chair in the corner of the room, eavesdropping in on the debate and just absorbing the discussions like a wet sponge. It was enticing and, arguably, one of the highlights of the summer holidays. But that was a long time ago. All of that was in the past. I now found myself back in Falmouth for different reasons, and coming to Gyllyngvase Beach felt like the first logical choice in easing my nerves. My right coat pocket buzzed. A text, I thought. Pulling out my phone, a notification displayed a brief message. "Parked up and waiting. Let's get cracking." I walked up the windswept steps from the beach and began glancing at the myriad of cars and vans backlogging the beach's carpark. The tourists were really coming out in force this summer. With the sum beaming down, it was hard to sift through the cars and spot my ride. But, seeing the blue roof of Pantelis' 3-Series BMW at the back of the car park, I powerwalked my way towards the car. As I proceeded to open the door, the handle remained firmly locked in place. As if right of cue, the window rolled down and, with a beaming smile and his sunshades masking his face, Pantelis - or Panny as I so affectionately call him - began his monologue. "You know the rules Kasper. No sand in the car. Either brush it off or throw the shoes in the boot." Sighing, I removed my shoes and proceeded to put them in the boot of the car. In doing so, I was so graciously allowed to enter the car. "You know, this is the first time this car has seen a beach and yet a tiny bit of sand and you're all paranoid," I said, with a brief chuckle to wrap it up. As he reversed the car, Panny was quick to retort. "Kasper, it's not you or the sand I'm concerned about. It's the sand and what my missus will do if she finds a grain in this car." "But it's your car," I replied. "Bud, I lost possession of this car, along with many other things, the day I asked for her hand in marriage." There was a brief pause, before the both of us burst into a fit of laughter. This persisted long after we had left the carpark and soon found ourselves driving through the narrow streets in the town centre. Panny, being the ever curious soul that he was, started to probe me with questions about the afternoon ahead. "So where is this meeting taking place?" He asked. "One of the Fish n' Chip joints near the dock front," I responded. "Not Rick Steins gaff I hope!" Panny retorted. "God no! Don't need to give that overrated sell out any of my money" I couldn't help but laugh before I continued. "It's the joint right by Trago Mills, near where our old student digs were." I noticed Panny let out a brief smile. "Those were fun days," he said. I couldn't help but agree with him. I asked Panny that he was more than welcome to join the meeting but he was adamant I run it solo. He trusted me to secure the right deal for the both of us. It's how our friendship worked. He could charm, woo and wow nearly any individual he crossed paths with. But when it came to the logistics, the details and the fine margins, that's where I excelled. "Okie dokie," Panny said. "Here we are. Best of luck bud. And, if you could, would love some grub when the meeting is done." He let out that cheeky smile. "Sure," I said. But could you pop open the boot? I would love my 'sand-covered' shoes back." With my shoes now back on my feet, I waved at Panny as he drove off. Then I proceeded to step inside the fish n' chip joint for what could prove to be a defining meeting...