Tina's Super Saints of Paisley

[Satio]

Sunday 6th September 2009

Paul laughed down the phone, “More like thank you, Tina. All the best,” he said before ending the call. There would no doubt be a press conference to announce the signings and also

And also...? Haha.

Another nice update - you keep pumping out a constant flow of intriguing posts of your story, and it makes me just want to read more.

It can only be a good thing

[SWalton]

“I used to work with your father.”

dun dun dunnnnn

[tenthreeleader]

“I used to work with your father.”

The young man is learning the art of the cliffhanger. Nicely turned, sir.

[Spiro]

dun dun dunnnnn

I think the Law and Order, "dun dun" is more appropriate.

Excellent as always Gav, still following and loving every update except there should be a rule forbidding you from taking longer than 48 to post, i cant wait five days between updates lol!

[gavrenwick]

Thank you so much gentlemen. 6000 view mark now for a story in early September is a proud thing for me, thank you for continued readership.

*****

Monday 7th September 2009

Both Andreas Luckermans and Kenneth Leemans left the club today, making their trip to Albion Rovers to join up with Paul Martin’s outfit. They would do well, Tina was certain. Valter was sat next to Tina as they went over the available first team players for the upcoming reserve team match against Kilmarnock. At this point in the season, where the international fixtures broke the league schedule up, it was imperative to keep the non-used first teamers in rotation so they didn’t altogether lost match fitness.

In this case, it meant Tom Brighton, Malte Metzelder, Aaron Wildig, David Barron and Lee Mair would be playing tonight. It would be good for them, especially Wildig and Metzelder, to play together and as part of St Mirren’s set up.

As the pair sorted everything out, Tina stole a quick glance to a newspaper Valter had brought with him.

“Mind if I take a look at that article you mentioned?” she asked, picking it up anyway.

“Not at all,” he replied, getting up, “I need to go give this to Gilmour anyway. I won’t be five minutes,” he mumbled as he left.

Tina turned to where Valter had left a page marker and looked at the aforementioned article. It was from an Albion Rovers reporter, who had apparently spoken to Fabrice Fernandes and Andy Dorman about the proposed Belgian pair of loanees who were reportedly heading to Cliftonhill. The St Mirren midfielders were very much behind the pair going to Albion, claiming that the loan move would do their careers good. Luckermans had been shadowing Fernandes and watching him play/train and now seemed to be relieved that his mentor backed his transfer.

Valter returned through the open door, and had a huge smile on his face. “What’s got you in a happy mood?” she asked, very intrigued to find out.

“Gilmour got a call no more than half an hour ago from Bosnia under twenty one manager Aleksandar Ristic. Kodro had asked him to give Gilmour a call about his loan deal to Albion Rovers. He said that he’d be enthralled to move there on loan, providing the other two were going.”

Tina smiled back, “Well that’s excellent. Martin will be ecstatic if he wasn’t already giddy enough.”

“Kodro said he won’t come back here now; rather just go straight to Albion after he arrives back.”

Tina nodded, “Not a problem.”

Valter sat looking at Tina, and he could instantly tell something wasn’t right with her. “Care to tell me where your mind is?” he asked sensitively.

Tina came back into the real world at the sound of his voice, “I received a phone call yesterday from someone called Alexander Muller. He is manager of Hertha Berlin over in Germany,” she said, similarly going back into her own head once more.

“And what did he want?”

“He said that he used to work with my father. It really doesn’t make sense though.”

“Why doesn’t it?”

“Because when I spoke to Muller, he said that he’d work in Germany all of his life.”

“And...”

“My father told me that he’d never left Wales, having worked there all of his life. Someone is lying or has lied. And I’m extremely scared that my father is the one who lied, Valter. What don’t I know?”

[gavrenwick]

Tuesday 8th September 2009

Tina lay in bed with what she could only describe as the worst affliction known to mankind; the flu. It wasn’t quite that bad, but Tina generally felt like death warmed up. She lay in bed with some papers strewn around her, the reading helping keep her from doing absolutely nothing constructive. The first was an injury update from Mairi and John McCreadie in the physio department.

Chris Smith was still the longest term injury, with around five months of recovery to go on his specialist treatment for cruciate ligament damage. Tina had only met him twice since she arrived at the club, but he seemed like a good fellow, and was apparently rivalling both Howard and Gallacher for the number one jersey before it all occurred. Also on the long term injury list was Kyle Jacobs, who had gotten himself injured in last night’s reserve team match against Kilmarnock, as did his brother Keaghan.

That in turn led Tina to her second piece of paper, which happened to be the report for the game. The reserves were still without a win in their season so far, prompting questions in Tina’s head about Valter’s tactics. For now though she wasn’t too bothered, only interested in the obsolete first teamers getting match practice. By all accounts they hadn’t played much football last night, especially when the only goal scored for the home side was a Mo Camara tattie punt. Kilmarnock struck two of their own in either side of Mo’s effort, Alan Cairns and new boy Joachim Fernandez doing the duty. The current performance of the reserve side is something Tina noted down.

Her last page of paper saw her staring at the current status of the loanees the club has sent out. It wasn’t a very big list, but the page was still packed with information. First name to look at was Ally Love, who is currently on loan at Ayr alongside Paul Quinn. Love had played in Ayr’s first four matches before missing out on their last one through injury. He had made an appearance back at St Mirren’s medical department and after being certified with a fractured arm, Mairi was happy for his rehab to continue at Somerset Park. Paul Quinn, the other mentioned St Mirren to Ayr loanee, has so far featured in each and every Ayr league match. The striker has two goals aswell, making him a fan favourite already. Sadly Ayr’s start to the season has seen them pick up just two points in five matches, and as such are gearing up for a difficult season if things don’t turn around. The third loanee away on duty was Michael Higdon at fellow SPL side St Johnstone, but he had only made two starts for St Mirren and had largely underperformed. He also wouldn’t be available for the next match as the two sides met.

Having been the last page, Tina lowered the sheets to the side of her bed. She slumped back into the pillows, but sighed as the doorbell went. She wasn’t destined to get the rest she felt she deserved. She opened the door, wrapped in her bed cover and looking a damn sight ill.

“Valter,” she mumbled, “I sure hope in that bag you’re carrying that there is some Lemsip.”

The Italian smiled, “It’s what you requested after all,” he replied whilst handing her the bag.

“You're an absolute diamond,” she replied, “Want a coffee?”

“Sure,” he nodded, closing the door behind himself. He took a seat in the armchair, but felt slightly guilty that Tina was making the coffee whilst she felt so off-colour. “Let me do that,” he said, taking over as he walked into the kitchen.

Tina smiled and slumped into the kitchen table chair. “I was just reading the sheets Gilmour had sent over. I wanted to ask you why the reserves are playing so poorly. Is it just the fact that they aren’t there most of the time or are they really that poor?”

Valter shrugged as he had his back turned to Tina, “I’m not sure to be honest. I definitely think fitness was an issue, but the side we had out was full of potential first teamers for us, barring probably Wildig and Kyle Jacobs.”

Tina nodded, “Get them into gear, hun. They need to be winning down there, not messing up to Kilmarnock youth.”

“Yes boss,” smiled the Italian, “Now, drink this Lemsip and worry about getting to Wales tomorrow for the Russia match.”

[tenthreeleader]

Tina lay in bed with what she could only describe as the worst affliction known to mankind; the flu.

Tina has obviously never been pregnant.

[salkster2102]

Tina has obviously never been pregnant.

You have obviously never had man flu.

[Dalbeider]

Both of you have obviously never had a wisdom tooth taken out. In three pieces. With a disk saw.

Just caught up after not reading anything since the start of the summer (Rat Pack is next in line), and this keeps being awesome. Go Tina go!

[tenthreeleader]

You have obviously never had man flu.

I was torn between the pregnancy line or 'I didn't know she was sleeping with Justin Bieber'.

Well done, Gav. Long may you continue.

[chesterfan2]

You have obviously never had man flu.

What ! You mean Tina's a man ????????????? Who knew ?

[gavrenwick]

Pregnancy isn't something I need worry about for now! Cheers for the support Dalbe and tenthree.

*****

Wednesday 9th September 2009

Wales vs. Russia

The Millennium Stadium

World Cup European Qualification Group 4, Match 8

GK; Jason Brown (2 caps)

DR; Sam Ricketts (35 caps)

DL; Danny Collins (8 caps)

DC; Ashley Williams (13 caps)

DC; Daniel Gabbidon (41 caps)

DMC; Owain Tudor Jones (4 caps)

MR; Gavin Williams (2 caps)

ML; David Vaughan (14 caps)

MC; Joe Ledley (29 caps)

MC; Brian Stock (Uncapped)

FC; Craig Bellamy (56 caps)

The day had started nicely for an ill looking Tina, who was desperate to get down to Cardiff. Stephen McGinn had a stunning performance against his young Dutch counterparts over in Sittard, Holland. Abbi had run a report stating how Tina had done over Holland again, but in a humorous fashion. Tina couldn’t wait to read it. McGinn scored a twenty third minute stunner to silence the home crowd, and put in a resolute midfield display to hand Scotland’s Under 21’s a massive victory and five points clear of Estonia in second place.

Edixon Perea made a surprise start ahead of nation sweetheart Darwin Quintero but had fairly little to do as Uruguay brushed Colombia aside in Montevideo. Martin Caceres opened the scoring in the first half, Pablo Garcia seeing red before half time. Colombia and Edixon failed to take advantage of the numbers and goals from Diego Forlan and a Nacho Gonzalez penalty. Victory would have seen Colombia rise into the World Cup spots, but now they are in a four way fight for the remaining two spaces.

“It’s absolutely freezing,” mumbled Valter as he took his seat just behind the technical areas. The seats were fantastic, and Tina had to admit that this, for now, was the closest she would get to managing Wales from the technical area in front of her.

“You aren’t the one with the flu,” mumbled Tina, adjusting the woolly hat on her head. This wasn’t summer weather at all, but being in Britain, it made complete sense.

The sides lined up opposite each other, and each of the national anthems was sung. Tina half heartedly joined in when the Welsh began, her voice not really wanting to make the effort.

Wales kicked the game off, Bellamy and Stock doing the honours. It took a small while for rhythm to sit in, but unbelievably it was Wales who struck first blood with some blinding football. Tudor Jones smacked a ball forward to Bellamy who didn’t superbly to control it with his chest. He lay it off for Stock who bombed forward past Bystrov, but the Russian wasn’t happy with it. He dragged him down, whilst in the area, and the referee instantly blew for a penalty kick. There was a collective gasp as Bellamy struck it, Akinfeev getting his thigh on it but seeing it rocket into the roof of the net.

The Millennium Stadium went wild in anticipation of what they thought was a spectacular start. The game quietened down a little after the penalty, Stock and Ledley both seeing long range efforts go wide. Russia weren’t without their own chances though, Arshavin darting around Ricketts on more than one occasion. And it was the last of these occasions that saw Russia earn a penalty for themselves. Everton’s Dinijar Bilyaletdinov stepped up, and had to watch in agony as he cracked it off the post.

“Yes!” yelled Tina, more than happy to have seen that come back out and cleared. Dinijar looked extremely peeved with himself and so he should, it was a rather poor penalty after all. Russia seemed to deflate after the miss, Arshavin falling to Ricketts now instead of the other way round.

There was a collective cheer of relief when half time came to salvage what in all actual truth was an ailing first half. Tina turned to Valter as the crowd began filtering to the toilets and for refreshments. “Make mine a coffee and three sugars,” said Tina, putting on her puppy dog eye look.

[gavrenwick]

As Valter returned with the coffees, Tina glanced down to see Saunders make his way up towards her. After all that had happened between them, she was pretty certain that now she didn’t feel as bitter towards him. The hatred had diminished beyond a point where she just didn’t care anymore, and after such a scare on her own life and the crash just a few days ago, Tina had bigger things to think about.

“It’s good to see you, Tina,” said Dean as he hopped over the rail closest to Tina. He seemed much more sincere these days, more so than the days when he gloated about getting the Welsh management job.

“Thanks, Dean,” she replied, taking a tentative sip from the coffee. “It’s good to see the boys in front.”

“I’ve left the team in the dressing room to come visit you, but they’ll be happy to know that. They still hold you in adoration.”

“As nice as the pleasantries are, Dean, I hope you know that I will one day hold that seat of power.”

Dean smiled, “I have no doubt that, eventually, you will.”

He nodded before jumping back down the small steps and back to the dressing room. He walked back out just a couple of minutes later, followed closely by his side and their Russian counterparts. Saunders had done well with this Wales squad, but it did seem like such a long time since Euro 2008 and Tina’s father at the helm.

The second half resumed the games action, Russia taking the kickoff and springing the ball back and forth between midfield and defence in the early play. Possession was held mainly by Russia, but they seemed lost without key striker Kerzhakov, who had three goals in his last two games. Arshavin was trying his best to work out a position to start something, but on more than one occasion found himself extremely isolated.

The Welsh formation set up by Saunders was working a treat, especially with Tudor Jones sitting in front of the defence babysitting Arshavin. Pavel Pogrebnyak couldn’t get the ball to his feet let alone win a header, and when he did, Tudor Jones mopped up everytime. The only downside with the Welsh way of playing was that Bellamy was also isolated up front. And after fifty five minutes, he required a stretcher after falling under a tackle by Bystrov. Saunders couldn’t complain in all honesty, Bellamy had pushed his legs too far and pulled a hamstring.

Sam Vokes was captain Bellamy’s replacement, but it didn’t prove to be such a shrewd move by Saunders. Vokes is primarily a striker as opposed to Bellamy being a forward, and Vokes was alarmingly playing with just himself as he won balls in the air. His knock downs continued to find only Aldonin and Semak in the Russian midfield.

The pure lack of keeping the ball after pumping it up field almost cost Wales when Semak blocked Vokes out of the receiving of it. Semak sprayed a pass over Gabbidon into the path of Arshavin, the little Arsenal man hitting a first time pass to Pogrebnyak. The striker took a touch to get the ball away from Collins. His shot was rather weak but it did have Brown scrambling across goal just to ensure that he did stop it.

Sadly for Wales, the next attack in the game would prove to be the most costly of the night. Aldonin was once more above Vokes as he rose for the header, and it set up a lightning quick counter attack. Bystrov bombed away down the right and completely overran Collins as they reached each other. Bystrov was now free to cross or continue running, but he hit an absolutely ferocious shot towards Brown. The Blackburn stopper had no hope of stopping it as he flapped furiously to his left, the shot rocketing into the net to put Russia level.

Tina sighed, once again disappointed that a late goal would cost Wales. It had happened more than enough in the past, to the disappointment of all Welsh supporters. Guus Hiddink stood proud on the sidelines, more than happy that his side had reached level terms. In qualifying so far, Russia had won six out of seven and lost the other. The draw wasn’t a complete failure as Germany failed to win earlier in the night, meaning they kept in touch.

The game could offer little more as Vokes failed to up his game, while Tudor Jones did and helped do more than his normal job and kept Arshavin out of the game once more. The draw, however, could only be viewed as positive for a Welsh side struggling to put together a run. The lack of concentrated points was however preventing them from competing like they did under Powell. No-one has forgotten the times when they held England and sent the Italians packing.

One of those who really hadn’t forgotten, was Tina.

Wales 1 (Bellamy pen5)

Russia 1 (Bystrov 81)

Attendance; 72,500

MOTM; Vladimir Bystrov

[gavrenwick]

Thursday 10th September 2009

“It is actually really good to be back in training,” said Tina, through a couple of sniffles. The cold had yet to subside, but it was beginning to wander away now. Thankfully the weather had held out for the first training session in four days. The break from football had been good, but now was the time for the work to return and the defence of top spot to recommence.

Both Hristo Stoichkov and Tony Mowbray had spoken out in the media about how they were extremely surprised to see St Mirren at the top of the league table. Both Old Firm sides had lost a game in their opening three, with only Aberdeen, Dundee United and St Mirren unbeaten. Celtic would meet Dundee this weekend, prompting the comments from Mowbray in the first place. Stoichkov however must have been a poor state of mood as he seemed disinterested in everything asked of him. At one point he looked close to hitting a reporter who had asked if this season was going to be difficult for a weak looking Rangers squad.

But here they were, out in the chilly but warm enough autumn air, watching the players go through a new routine. “I’m going to alter the formation for St Johnstone, Valter,” whispered Tina, as they stood side by side.”I know what you are going to say.”

Valter shrugged, “It is your choice after all, Tina. We have only just got them working to the current one, and now you want to change it. Are you sure it’s the right choice and one you want to make?”

Tina nodded, “I know what I’m doing. It is only a minor adjustment to the current one to try and improve our attacking. Trust me, it will work.”

“I hope so, for your integrity at least,” smiled Valter.

“It will be fine. It’s currently set up as a four-three-one-two, but I’m confident that the man currently sitting behind the strikers can move up and become a third. If we aren’t in possession two of them can drop behind to win the ball. It will work,” she said, clapping for a clean defensive tackle made by Potter.

“Gather round guys,” she yelled, the coaches rounding the footballs up and joining them too. “Now, were going to try a new approach in the attacking part of our game. We currently have two strikers and an attacking midfielder backing them up, but I want to alter that to three strikers. If we aren’t in possession, then I want the two wider players to drop back and either win the ball or work space for the midfield when they hopefully regain possession.”

“Do you want us to implement this in training right now, Tina?” asked Andy Millen.

Tina shook her head, “No, not on this occasion. I want the boys to attempt it on Saturday, of their own accord. The rest of the team will play to their normal instructions, but the three up top need to try and work something out for themselves. If it works, terrific, if not then I’ll know that we need to work on it and apply some thought to it beforehand. But I’m hoping that you boys up front can work something out to make the whole idea function well. St Johnstone is the best testing ground for this,” she said, smiling. “Now, get back to training.”

The players dispersed back to where they came from, allowing Valter a chance to whisper once more. “Are you sure that’s the right idea?”

“We will know if not,” replied Tina, turning to shout someone back across. “And anyway, I have a failsafe if they don’t take this opportunity.”

Valter’s face spoke volumes about what he was worried about. “Febian, come back here a second,” she yelled, the on-loan Manchester United kid jogging back across.

“Him,” she said with a sly smile.

[Satio]

Having been away for the weekend, it was nice to catch up on the latest three posts. Still enjoying this, Gav

[gavrenwick]

Thanks Satio. I worry the day you may stop enjoying this,

*****

Friday 11th September 2009

“I’m sorry, Tina, I just can’t find the time for it,” said Abbi over the phone.

Tina sighed, “Don’t worry about it, honey. I know it was extreme short notice.”

“Definitely next time,” she replied, “I have to go now. Good luck for tomorrow’s match.”

“Cheers,” said Tina before putting the phone down.

Tina was bored. Not just general, normal kind of boredom, but EXTREMELY bored. Abbi didn’t have the time to come across today to have a night out and watch the game tomorrow, leaving Tina short on options. There was one person though...

Tina picked her phone back up and chose speed dial, actually cursing God for her still having the number in there in the first place. “Cassie?”

The voice at the other end was surprised, or at least sounded that way. “Tina? What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing. I was wondering if you were free tonight. I haven’t got anything to do, and fancied some company.”

“Why are you asking me? Not that I’m not flattered, but I thought you’d ask Abbi,” she replied flatly.

“Well I am asking you. So are you up for it?”

“Yeah, alright, I don’t see why not. Jamie is out at some function thing that I wasn’t invited along to, so I haven’t got anything to do. Do you want me to pick up a bottle of wine on the way?”

“Please do,” said Tina, “I’ll see you in abit.”

“Sure,” she said in response before hanging up.

Tina threw her phone down onto the sofa and rushed upstairs to get changed into something a little more casual. She was still in what she called her ‘St Mirren Attire’. As she undressed, she stood there in her underwear staring at her wardrobe. She smiled at herself when she thought of answering the door wearing only what she was now, but that could go either way in terms of a response. She perused through the coat hangers of clothing and settled on a pair of shorts, with a t-shirt. She ruffled her hair up in the mirror and then headed back downstairs. She was barefoot, but what would it matter, she was at home.

She sat watching the television whilst she waited for Cassie to drive across, and was almost scared to death as the knock on the door came. She opened it to see Cassie stood, looking beautiful as ever, with the wine in hand. “Hey there stranger,” she said, hugging her in the process.

They both headed into the house and into the kitchen where Tina pulled out a bottle opener. She stood with her back turned to Cassie as she opened it, her former partner eyeing her up in the process. She moved behind her and leant over her shoulder, purposely pushing up against her in the process.

“Thank you,” she said in a sultry voice as she picked up a glass of wine.

Tina smiled to herself, certainly not allowing Cassie to see.

“I know why you invited me across, Tina,” she said, putting the wine glass down and turning Tina around.

“And why is that?”

Cassie pushed Tina back against the kitchen cabinet and pressed herself up against her, noses almost touching. “Because you want me, just like the old times,” she said, kissing her on the lips.

“Damn, you’re just too intuitive,” she replied, taking her hand and leading her upstairs.

[gavrenwick]

Saturday 12th September 2009

St Mirren vs. St Johnstone

St Mirren Park

Scottish Premier League (4/38)

GK; Vincent Degre (8 apps, 0 goals)

DR;David Barron (27 apps, 0 goals)

DL; Diego Contento (2 apps, 0 goals)

DC; Paul Wotton (3 apps, 1 goal)

DC; Michael Parkhurst (3 apps, 0 goals)

DMC; Edgar Davids (3 apps, 0 goals)

MC; Rodney Sneijder (1 app, 0 goals)

MC; Hugh Murray (337 apps, 16 goals)

FC; Ricardo Vaz Te (8 apps, 1 goal)

ST; Edixon Perea (9 apps, 4 goals)

FC; Febian Brandy (5 apps, 1 goal)

The alarm on her mobile woke Tina from a very deep slumber, the night’s events only just returning to her mind as she turned over in bed to see Cassie fast asleep next to her. She rolled back and picked up the mobile, checking the time. It read 11:37am.

“Sh*t!” she yelled, immediately jumping out of bed wearing just her knickers, “I’m f*cking late.”

Cassie stirred at the sound of the noise, “What’s up with you?”

“I’m late, Cassie. We’ve got a match in just over three hours, and I’ve missed the pre-match training already. Look,” she said, showing her the phone screen, “I’ve got four missed calls from Valter.”

“Sorry, I guess it’s kind of my fault having kept you up,” she replied, smiling in Tina’s direction.

Tina just threw her a look, one that told her to just be quiet. As Tina zipped up her jeans and pulled her bra on, she turned to Cassie. “No-one can know about this, Cassie. You’re with Jamie, and if this got out, there would be massive fallout.”

Cassie rolled her eyes and forced her head back onto the pillow. “I’ll wait a few hours before leaving,” was all she said.

“I didn’t mean to insult you, Cassie, but you and I both know this can’t get out.”

“Leave the keys on the side.”

Tina was getting agitated, but very wisely decided against arguing. She just simply didn’t have the time, or the will power, to start it. She picked up her car keys and bolted down the stairs, leaving a spare set of house keys on a table for her.

The drive to St Mirren Park didn’t take half as long as usual, Tina definitely breaking a range of road laws in the process. As she pulled into the car park, she spotted the boys on the field training already. Valter was well trained, she thought to herself. He spotted her car pull into the drive, and he immediately came out to greet her.

“Tina, some of the guys still don’t know whether they are playing against St Johnstone today. I’d like to ask why you weren’t here for ten am, but I’d rather not know,” he said with a huge grin.

“I am very sorry, but glad I’ve got a dashing Italian to cover for me in my absence,” she replied, hurrying inside. “I’ve made quite a few changes anyway.”

Valter frowned, “In what way?”

“Personnel,” she said, leaving her bag in her office. “We need to give McInnes something to think about when he looks at the team sheet in a couple of hours. Have St Johnstone actually arrived yet?”

Valter nodded, “They got here about an hour ago. Still have faith in your secret weapon?”

“Who, Brandy? Very much so,” winked Tina.

[SWalton]

Fantastic as always Gav, liking the new format.

[gavrenwick]

Cheers SWalton. Very loyal reader and glad you like the direction it's moving into.

Would like to take this moment to thank everyone for voting this Story of the Year and Scottish Story of the Year. I am well and truly humbled. Tina would also like to thank you for making her Character of the Year. Cheers again.

*****

As the crowd noise began to filter into the changing room, Tina felt anxious. A lot was riding on today’s tactical decision going her way, and it had to work otherwise St Johnstone would pick them apart from the off. “It will work,” she mumbled to herself, eager to keep the nerves at bay.

“Now, I’m going to keep it short today guys,” she began, passing round a set of instructions that she had come up with just two hours earlier. “St Johnstone aren’t coming here to attack from the off, we know McInnes won’t do it like that. He is going to wait for us to come at them and then strike back at us and we simply can’t let them do it. We need to hit them hard and swift from the beginning, not giving them any chance for breathing room. Depending on other results, we could be the first team to hit double figures and the only team to do so this weekend. People are expecting us to mess up, so let’s prove them wrong once again. It’s what we’re good at,” she said smiling, handing some final instructions to Valter. “See you out there.”

Tina took her place in her customary seat, which had something new on it. Having always usually sat there since arriving at the club, someone had stitched the letters TP into the headrest. Tina almost blushed at the thought of someone liking her enough to get it done, making a mental note to find out who the guilty suspect was. She spotted McInnes make his way to his seat aswell, a swift nod of the head all that she received from him. This was supposed to be a massive game between two of the sides expected to be propping the rest up come May. As the players stood for kickoff, it was St Mirren who were heeding the pile.

The visitors got the joy of kickoff, Jackson and Deuchar with the honours. Surprisingly it took them just three passes to get Tina’s boys caught in the headlights. Deuchar made a wide run and earned his side a corner. Craig bent it in to the centre and found Rutkiewicz, but the defender only just headed it over. It was a warning shot, and a sly grin told Tina that McInnes had tricked her already.

In truth, he really didn’t get one up on her. Had the header gone in things may have looked different. But it hadn’t, and Degre’s goal kick found Barron who simply laid it off for Murray. The St Mirren stalwart stopped the ball before playing the most perfectly timed ball through the heart of McInnes’ defence. Rutkiewicz made the wrong decision to try and move across to block it, but he just couldn’t reach. Brandy ran on to it and two touches later it was in the bottom corner of the goal, Tina up off her seat ecstatic. It wasn’t the way she had planned it, but the little Manchester United loanee had done exactly what she hoped he might. A goal up after three minutes, McInnes sunk into his seat.

To give them credit where credit is due, St Johnstone tried all they could to try and salvage the game before it raced away from them. Being away from home, many teams would simply clam up and call it a day already. Moon was causing some problems for Davids before he crossed for Deuchar, only some stoic defending from Contento keeping the ball from the net and the on-loan full back kept it in too.

From there the theme of the first period of play became ball retention for St Mirren, and that in turn paid off when Rutkiewicz got aggravated and went in a little too hard on Perea. The Colombian went down rather theatrically, but it was definitely a foul. Wotton stepped up, prompting Tina to get out of her seat. “I said Sneijder was taking those,” she yelled, only to fall upon deaf ears. The captain was eyeing up the shot, despite it being close to forty yards. He struck it with the grace of a player who had played at the highest level of football for most of his career, and it flew majestically into the top corner, Wotton as equally as stunned as the crowd that it had actually gone in. From there he was completely mobbed by his teammates, and crushed under a man pyramid.

Two goals up inside fifteen minutes was something even Tina hadn’t accounted for, but what she knew she should do was protect the two goal lead. Pushing for a third so early on may see them lose one the other way and reduce their deficit to a point where it would be extremely difficult to hold on to. The ascendancy had to stay with St Mirren, and if that involved twisting the neck of the game to bleed it dry of action, then so be it. She had always thought herself a conscious manager, and she wasn’t going to change for anything now.

And so that is how the game went for the next thirty minutes, St Mirren not overly exerting themselves in playing the ball around, whilst watching McInnes furiously try to rally his players to muster up some sort of spirit. Irvine had a chance to spring load a shot from a corner, but Murray was barrelling through him almost instantly, the defending from the boys in black and white on top form.

There was a massive hullabaloo as the half wore on when Deuchar deemed Wotton to have played him rather than the ball, but the referee wasn’t having any of it. “The cheeky git,” said Tina, looking at Valter, “Getting so angry with themselves that they are taking it to the ref in an attempt to gain some advantage.”

“The in’s and out’s of football dear,” was all he said in reply as Perea was flagged offside having got himself into a one on one with the St Johnstone keeper. The referee blew his whistle before long, bringing an end to an efficient St Mirren half that saw them score two early goals. The rest of the half hadn’t been a masterclass in football, but why did it have to be? St Mirren had the lead now, they’d done their part.

The comeback would be down to McInnes, but even Tina doubted the chances of such a thing happening.

[gavrenwick]

“I can only ask you for more of the same,” said Tina, drinking from a bottle of Lucozade. “We have been on top of them, and we must now continue that into the second half. What we do have to be careful of, is them hitting back early in the next forty five minutes. We just need to sit tight, carry on what we were doing before half time and allow any more goals to come, rather than push for them.”

Time seemed to be flying today, and that was only a good thing. The sooner St Mirren registered their third win of the campaign, the sooner Tina could relax and maybe begin to sort her personal life out.

For now though, the second half was looming, and as two of her front line kicked the game off, Tina did what she knew best and returned to her game frame of mind. St Johnstone came out of the blocks much quicker than the home side, and began to knock on Degre’s door with some crosses to test his gloves. The Frenchman was up to the task, but he was less than happy with his full back’s failure to close the wingers down.

Brandy was the main threat for St Mirren, and his running was causing the defence a shed load of issues. His drive down the left just five minutes into the half had Tina out of her seat, and his drive across goal found Murray. All the veteran midfielder had to do was poke it in, but he failed to connect properly and that allowed Smith to make a routine save.

The passing between the midfield three and attacking three was absolutely exquisite, and it made Tina smile profusely. Her face was an exact picture of joy and success, whilst McInnes solemnly watched on from his technical area. He hadn’t sat down since the teams had come on to the pitch, but he also seemingly hadn’t cracked a smile since about 1990.

It would have been unfair to forget how the defence were playing though, and they were standing resolute against everything McInnes could throw at it. Wotton was the saviour on more than one occasion, especially each time Deuchar outmuscled Parkhurst and wormed his way towards goal. The best £7,000 ever spent, mused Tina.

The first real chance of the half came from St Mirren, and it was once again a Wotton freekick. Having scored the forty yard stunner in the first half, he was now standing over one from just twenty five yards, and he hit it with some force. The ball flew goalwards, and Smith pulled off a stunning stop to prevent the St Mirren skipper from notching his second of the game.

Sadly he couldn’t prevent the next piece of action, resulting from that save. Brandy picked the ball up and pulled it onto his right foot from the corner flag. His ball was inch perfect for Sneijder to receive inside the box. The Dutchman took one touch, with his right to move it away from Rutkiewicz, and he rifled a bullet of a shot above the head of Smith and into the roof of the net. It was simply an exquisite finish, and it now shut St Johnstone completely out of the game. Sneijder was a hero already, and Tina could only smile at that.

From there the visitors completely deflated, and they still had twenty five minutes to play. It wasn’t pretty for them, and they certainly looked like they needed to go home. McInnes had retreated to his seat when the goal went in, and he was unlikely to move from there now.

St Mirren only had to keep the ball in midfield and St Johnstone got frustrated, Gartland bringing down Perea and Davids on two occasions. After seventy minutes of play, Tina decided on a change or two. “Get Ciro and Dorman prepped,” she said to Valter, the assistant immediately getting them stripped down. Two minutes later, a quick warm up having interceded, and they were on the pitch for the tiring Davids and the unnoticeable Vaz Te.

Ciro was instantly involved in the action, his pass opening up the defence for Perea. The Colombian ran out of space as he pulled out wide though, and he lost possession of the ball to Irvine. He went in chase of it, in typical Wayne Rooney style, and won it back. He played it back to Immobile, who rifled a shot just wide of the post. It was refreshing to see a few substitutes re-ignite a stalling attacking performance.

The introduction of Caiaffa for Sneijder six minutes from time saw a renewed vigour in midfield, the substitute laying the ball off to Brandy, who then played it to Murray from the corner of the box. From there he only had one thing in mind, as he bent a superb curling effort round Smith and into the far corner of the net. It was a shot that would have made even Sam Cox proud. At four-nil, and with a goal for the club hero, there was little more to see from the boys in black and white.

Tina smiled as the final whistle went. She was certain the plaudits would be forthcoming tomorrow. The day was capped off when she heard Febian Brandy being named man of the match.

Her plan had worked superbly. The battle of the Saints had been won by the Mirren contingent.

St Mirren 4 (Brandy 3, Wotton 13, Sneijder 70, Murray 85)

St Johnstone 0

Attendance; 8,016

Man of the Match; Febian Brandy

[Spiro]

Hey Gav,

Congratulations on the awards. You deserve the accolades. Anyone not reading this story is a poorer person for it.

[gavrenwick]

Thanks very much Spiro. I'm still overwhelmed this story jointly won SOTY after only getting through a few months.

*****

“I want to commend you on a superb performance,” said Gilmour, his face a picture of happiness and pride. He every reason to be proud aswell, especially on the back of seeing St Mirren keep their place at the summit of the league table.

“We just did what we could,” she replied, taking a swig of the beer sat in front of her. The rest of the team were sat in groups, celebrating just like the two sat at the bar. “I’m really enjoying being here with these boys. They are a great set of players.”

“You just keep the results coming then,” laughed Gilmour, smiling to Tina as he got up to leave. “It seems you have a visitor over there,” he said, pointing to Cassie. She must have only just arrived seeing as Tina hadn’t caught sight of her at all.

“What are you doing here?”

Cassie frowned, “I wanted to speak with you.”

“About what?”

“What happened last night,” said Cassie, ordering a beer.

“It was a massive, massive mistake.”

Cassie’s eyes lowered to the floor, “Please, I hope you don’t mean that.”

“Cassie, I really do. You should never have come round, and what happened was a bonafide mistake. Just drop it and leave.”

Cassie stared Tina down, before walking away. “Enjoy your beer,” she murmured, Tina almost certain a tear was running down Cassie’s face.

*****

Other than St Mirren’s four goal bonanza against St Johnstone, it really was a week to skip out on for most football fans.

Celtic welcomed Dundee United to Celtic Park, but it really didn’t turn out to be an interesting match. Both sides struggled to get any foothold in the match, and Craig Levein left the happier manager after walking away with a point from what should have been a tougher match.

Falkirk went in search of their first win of the season, hosting Aberdeen in a very wet game at The Falkirk Stadium. It came very close to being another bore fest as found in Glasgow, but six minutes into injury time and former Celtic man Kjartan Finnbogason popped up to head Falkirk into victory.

Eggert Jonsson experienced a day of mixed fortunes when he headed Hearts in front against Kilmarnock at Tynecastle. It proved to be the only goal of the game, but not the only talking point. Jonsson then saw red eighteen minutes later, Gavin Skelton of Kilmarnock also getting sent off in the same fracas.

There was one game this week that experienced more than a poor one goal show, Motherwell holding Rangers 1-1 at home. John Sutton fired his side in front with a cool effort, but Stoichkov’s boys struck back late in the second half through Steven Naismith to level the tie. It was a fair result, and it kept Rangers just that little bit more further away from St Mirren.

The final game of the week was the late kickoff between Hibernian and Hamilton, but New Douglas Park also failed to serve up any real action. There was only one shot on goal throughout the whole match, Abdessalam Benjelloun finishing coolly from the edge of the area to hand Hibs a one nil win.

What a dour week of football in the Scottish rain.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
[color="green"]| 1st   |       | St. Mirren    |       | 4     | 3     | 1     | 0     | 10    | 2     | +8    | 10    | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/color]
| 2nd   |       | Hearts        |       | 4     | 3     | 0     | 1     | 5     | 2     | +3    | 9     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 3rd   |       | Dundee Utd    |       | 4     | 2     | 2     | 0     | 5     | 1     | +4    | 8     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 4th   |       | Rangers       |       | 4     | 2     | 1     | 1     | 6     | 2     | +4    | 7     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 5th   |       | Aberdeen      |       | 4     | 2     | 1     | 1     | 5     | 2     | +3    | 7     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 6th   |       | Hibernian     |       | 4     | 2     | 1     | 1     | 7     | 5     | +2    | 7     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 7th   |       | Kilmarnock    |       | 4     | 2     | 0     | 2     | 3     | 3     | 0     | 6     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 8th   |       | Celtic        |       | 4     | 1     | 2     | 1     | 4     | 3     | +1    | 5     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 9th   |       | Falkirk       |       | 4     | 1     | 0     | 3     | 3     | 11    | -8    | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 10th  |       | St. Johnstone |       | 4     | 1     | 0     | 3     | 4     | 13    | -9    | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 11th  |       | Motherwell    |       | 4     | 0     | 1     | 3     | 3     | 7     | -4    | 1     | 
[color="red"]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 12th  |       | Hamilton      |       | 4     | 0     | 1     | 3     | 1     | 5     | -4    | 1     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|[/color]

[gavrenwick]

Sunday 13th September 2009

“I’m going to put the bid for St Mirren on hold,” said Rodwell, chugging down a shot of whiskey. “I have another avenue to pursue for the moment.”

Another man was sat with him, a heavy set black man dressed in a suit almost identical to Rodwell’s. There was a light whimpering noise coming from a corner of the room, and the black man turned to acknowledge it. “Shut the hell up over there, will you.”

Rodwell smiled, “You are well worth the money, Mr Okoro.”

Mr Okoro smiled in return, “When a job needs doing properly, you bring the professionals in, Mr Rodwell.”

“This is only your first day though, how on earth did you find him so quickly?”

“Much easier than I thought in all honesty. How much does this man owe you, with interest?”

“It’s one hundred and twenty two thousand, five hundred and eighty five altogether, about one hundred of that being the original amount.”

Mr Okoro sat thinking for a second, “I can safely ascertain that he doesn’t have even a quarter of that in his bank account.”

Rodwell smiled, “Another of these please,” he said to the man behind the bar, “You are most likely correct, about his account. But there is the matter in that he gave someone my money from the Livingston bank account, and I am determined to find out whom. It could be that in the end, the person or persons who have it could be responsible for the saving of him.”

“I see the plan,” nodded Mr Okoro, “Bring them out of hiding with the holding of this guy,” he said whilst receiving his third drink of whiskey. “Would you be happy for me to continue pushing him?”

“I’d much prefer you to follow him around, I think. He is most likely going to reach out to the person responsible for holding my money, and I’d like you around when he does.”

“How long does he have?”

“He’s got two months to make it appear,” said Rodwell before laughing, “Actually, he has until Christmas Eve.”

Mr Okoro failed to see the joke. “I’m a very religious man, Mr Rodwell, why do you find the use of Christmas so funny?”

“A personal joke,” he replied sourly, not fazed by the brute sitting next to him.

“Well, I must be leaving now,” said Okoro, standing up and getting his coat before finishing his whiskey. “I shall take him and dump him back at his house. Is there anything else you need?”

Rodwell shook his head, “That will be fine. Make it hurt when you do,” he smiled.

Okoro nodded and left, picking up the injured man sat in the corner. He had bruises on his face, a black eye, and plenty of open bleeding wounds. “I shall see you very soon, Mr Massone,” he said to departing man.

Angelo Massone looked back in fear, his face a real sorry looking thing. “F*ck you.”

Rodwell smiled, turned back and sat down. “Another whiskey please, barkeep.”

[gavrenwick]

Monday 14th September 2009

“I’m still not certain that I want to do this,” mumbled Tina, being dragged along by Abbi.

“Listen,” she said, smiling at Tina, “Your car isn’t something that matches you as a person. You need something new, and I know you can afford one.”

“It’s not a matter of being able to afford one,” replied Tina, idly taking note of the cars as they passed them. “I just never thought it necessary to own anything new.”

Abbi threw her a look, before narrowing her eyes. “You drive a second hand Focus, Tina. You need something at least that has a working heater, what with winter approaching and all that.”

Tina threw her hands up in defeat. Abbi was completely right, and this was actually a good idea in Tina’s head. After the crash, Tina’s car had only just managed to be deemed roadworthy, but it did have a rather huge piece of damage on one side. A new car was just natural progression now. It was the first thing Abbi had mentioned since she had come across to see Tina, with this being the first time since the crash itself.

“Now there is a nice car,” she said whilst pointing at a blue Mini Cooper convertible. Abbi walked across and looked inside. “This car is so you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Look at it,” she replied before turning round, “It’s cute and small.”

Tina felt herself blush, and couldn’t come up with anything to respond with. At times, being on top of the world made her forget that she was still only 5'6. She walked across to join Abbi by the car, “It is actually a really nice car. Go find me a salesperson.”

Abbi frowned but did so anyway. Tina checked out the cars in the near vicinity, but she now had her heart set on the one next to her. It really was a nice car, one she would be proud to roll into the St Mirren car park in. Gilmour’s car, an Audi A6, would constantly remind her that her current one was woeful. Abbi came back, a salesman in tow.

“What can I do for you fine ladies?”

“My friend here is interested in this car,” said Abbi, pointing him to Tina.

The salesman nodded, “This is a fine car,” he said, unlocking the door. “It is also very good price if I’m honest.”

Tina hadn’t seen the cars price label, but shimmied around the car to take a look. £9,000 was all it said, and for a top condition car, Tina knew that being a football manager had its perks, and she could very much tell sales patter when she heard it. But she really did want this car now.

“Well ladies, I’ll be happy to let you have this out for a test run, but something tells me that you’ve already got your heart set on it.”

Tina smiled in response, “You’d be right.”

The salesman scrunched his eyes to look at Tina a little better, “Have I seen you somewhere before?”

Tina shrugged, “I’ve done a few infomercials on mid-morning TV.”

Abbi laughed, “If you follow me then we’ll sort the paperwork,” said the salesman, eager to boost his performance record it seemed.

As the group headed towards the dealerships building, Tina pulled Abbi behind. “I need to ask you something.”

Abbi nodded, “Anything.”

“I’m going to visit a man tomorrow. I’d like someone around when I do.”

[gavrenwick]

Tuesday 15th September 2009

As the Mini Cooper rolled off the ferry, Tina looked at Abbi. “Thanks so much for coming again,” she said, checking her left side before pulling out of the port.

“Stop thanking me,” smiled Abbi, “I couldn’t resist a free trip out to Germany. I do love frankfurters anyway.”

Tina laughed, the humour coming from her Dutch company keeping her own nerves and anxiety from creeping up on her. The phone call she had received from Alexander Muller has confused her a little, mainly for the reason that she couldn’t understand why he wanted to see her. She had done a Wikipedia search on him and surprisingly found him. He had been a staff member at five different German clubs as an assistant manager, notably Union Berlin and Dortmund. He is now manager of Hertha Berlin, the place where his playing career started.

“I don’t know what to expect, Abbi. I’m really scared that he has some dirt on my dad, or something along those lines.”

Abbi shrugged, “You won’t know until you get there,” she replied, stopping when the SatNav lady spoke out. “Maybe he just wants to reminisce, see how you turned out if he knew you when you were small.”

“I’m hoping so,” was all the response she gave.

The drive through Germany from Hamburg to the outside Berlin took just under three hours, but it was so pleasant to drive through Germany that it hardly mattered to her. Tina silently thought to herself that she’d like to manage here in the future. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt a natural connection to the place.

“Can we pleaseeeee stop for a frankfurter? There is a man over there selling them from his mobile food stall thingy. I know you want one aswell, they are so delicious, trust me.”

Tina laughed, “Yes we can pull over. You’re paying though, Madame.”

Abbi nodded and hurriedly exited the car as soon as Tina pulled up on the side of the road. She opened her door and welcomed the return of some feeling to her legs. She sat back down on the driver seat, appreciating the smells of the food cooking just a few feet away. Two minutes later and Abbi was walking back, sandwiches in hand, along with two cans of fizzy drink.

“It does smell really good,” said Tina, sniffing into the bag as it was handed to her. She was also handed one of Germany’s most popular fizzy drinks, Apfelschorle. Tina sat with her legs still sticking out of the car door, but had to pull them back in as the heavens began to open, the rain pounding down on the tarmac with a real vigour.

“Are you sure we haven’t gone in a complete circle and wound back up in Scotland?” asked Abbi through mouthfuls of her food. “It is really whacking it down out there.”

“Scotland is going to get very cold in the next few months. I can safely say I am not looking forward to it.”

The pair ate up as quickly as they could, actually quite hungry having not eaten since the morning. The Apfelschorle was extremely refreshing aswell. It was easy to see why the German’s held the drink in high regard.

Tina booted the car up once more as the pair began their final part of the journey to Berlin. Twenty minutes later and they pulled into the drive of Alexander Muller’s house, the place itself a picturesque and typical German looking home. Tina got out, and Abbi followed her up the stone steps to the front door.

“Are you okay?” asked Abbi.

Tina nodded, and knocked. Alexander Muller was at the door within moments, a glass of whiskey in hand. “Tina Powell,” he stated, simply but with a warming smile. “My oh my, how you have grown since you were last here.”

[chesterfan2]

The Apfelschorle was extremely refreshing aswell. It was easy to see why the German’s held the drink in high regard.

mmmmmm....... Tasty AND Refreshing ? Why ! I must go out and buy some myself !

A fine infomercial blended seemlessly into the story there, Gav.

Seriously but, this remains one of a very small number of stories that I follow religiously, can't wait to see what this meeting will bring....

[Satio]

Tina silently thought to herself that she’d like to manage here in the future. She couldn’t explain why, but she felt a natural connection to the place.

Indeed, Tina. That is because there are many a secret located in Berlin!

Do I need to say muc else, you already know I love this!

[gavrenwick]

Go buy some, chester. I've had some, it really is delicious.

Satio - you can say you love it as many times as you need, it never gets old well noticed on the Berlin reference too!

*****

Tina smiled as Alexander offered a seat to both her and Abbi, the aging manager pouring himself another whiskey. The feint aroma of meat emanated from the kitchen, and the clatter of pots and pans accompanied it. Alexander could see Tina looking in its direction, “My wife,” he said, smiling wistfully.

“Smells very nice,” replied Tina, checking the house out as her eyes followed Alexander round the room. There was a picture of a young girl stood with what looked like Alexander and his wife. “You have a daughter?”

Alexander nodded, “I have a son and a daughter. I believe you have had the misfortune of meeting one of them.”

Tina’s face took on a mask of thought and then confusion, “I can’t say I’ve met any German’s lately other than a defender I signed.”

Alexander laughed, “I know Malte and Christoph Metzelder’s father, but nope, it is someone else.”

Tina racked her brain, but couldn’t for the life of her fathom who he was talking about. She dropped the matter mentally as she saw Alexander’s wife stroll into the room. “This is my wife, Greta,” he said, doing the general host duty of introduction. Tina shook her hand, as did Abbi.

“It has been so long since I last saw you, Tina. I even babysat you once,” chuckled Greta, “Please, excuse me though. This food cannot cook itself, and alas, I’m the only one who can cook.”

Tina nodded and smiled, accepting how many men have an inability to cook anything beyond microwave meals. Greta walked back to the kitchen, Tina turning to Alexander. “I really can’t try to sound any harsher than this will come out, but I simply do not know you from anywhere. I can’t help but feel you have me mixed up with someone else.”

Alexander’s face turned serious, and he sat down on what looked like was his chair. Numerous footballing files littered the table next to it, Tina feeling a little more like she was at her own house. “I met your father in May nineteen seventy nine. Union Berlin had just sacked their manager, Uwe Neuwhaus, and set about employing a fairly unknown German called Dickson Bohl. The fans weren’t too bothered, they weren’t the biggest side in the world, and if the board had faith in him, so would they.”

Tina sat listening intently, but failed to comprehend what was going in. But almost as soon as she replayed his words in her head, it struck her. “Was my father the Dickson Bohl character you just mentioned?”

Alexander nodded.

Tina felt her gut lurch downwards, “Oh my god,” she murmured, getting up and taking Alexander’s glass of whiskey. “My father, my hero, had a whole double life that I had never been told about.”

“I can’t lie to you, Tina. He always maintained that he would never tell you about the time he spent abroad with your mother Jane.”

“But why wouldn’t they want me to know? I just don’t understand.”

“I never understood it either, Tina, if it makes you feel any better. Dick was my best friend, albeit a slightly know it all best friend. There are some things you and I could never understand, and I know that is a painful feeling. But they didn’t do it to hurt you; they did it to protect you.”

“If you last saw me when I was young, then does that mean...” started Tina, but Alexander filled in.

“...that you are from Berlin? Yes, you are. What you make of that is up to you, I know German’s aren’t widely liked by all.”

Tina managed a vague smile, “And you said I had met one of your children? How?”

Alexander’s face turned forlorn, “You have met my daughter, Steffi. We haven’t spoken in twelve years though,” he said, before noticing Greta walk towards them. “Please, stay for dinner.”

[gavrenwick]

The travelling pair sat in Tina’s car, overlooking the river Spree. It had been a long and extremely confusing day for her, and it just still wasn’t settling in her head. Abbi lay across the backseat, her feet propped on the open window. “I still can’t believe that the nasty woman you told me about ends up being Alexander’s daughter,” she murmured, the nightly noises of Berlin echoing around the car.

Tina shook her head, “I can’t believe it either. God damn Steffi Rheinheimer is his daughter. The woman has a screw loose, I can’t describe how completely mad she is.”

“I think Alexander already knows that,” laughed Abbi, “He said he hadn’t seen her in twelve years, and the look on his face told me that he didn’t plan on rectifying that.”

“I just don’t think I’ll ever quite grasp why my father had this whole secret life in Germany. It is the kind of thing my mother would have held back, but my Dad? I just don’t get it.”

Abbi sat up on the seat, “Like both Alexander and I have said, he would have had his reasons. You shouldn’t let it get to you.”

“Wouldn’t you be concerned if your father had lived a secret life in another country, under a different name?”

“Well, you make a valid point I must admit. I think until you know for sure what the reason really was, you’ll just need to hold judgement. It will make your life a little easier, I know.”

Tina turned from her seat and leaned through the middle of the two front ones. Abbi did the same almost simultaneously, their faces a few centimetres apart. “You always know how to say the nicest of things,” said Tina, her eyes surveying Abbi’s face.

“It isn’t like I’m lying.”

Tina’s gorgeous green eyes glistened in the darkness, the rare reflection of car lights making her face light up for the beauty she was. The more Abbi looked at her, the more she felt herself attracted to this already amazing woman.

It was working both ways aswell, with Tina drawn to Abbi’s eyes. The brown in them told Tina that a future with her was almost definitely a possibility. Her skin looked so smooth, and before long Tina pressed her lips onto Abbi.

Everything rest upon the response.

*****

Alexander sat next to his wife on the sofa, and she kissed him on the cheek. “You didn’t tell her everything,” she said, more as a statement than a question.

“She has turned into such a great person, Greta. I can’t go breaking her with what we know.”

Greta looked solemnly, “It must really hurt you to know and find it impossible to say anything.”

Alexander nodded, “That girl deserves so much better than she has gotten over the years. I almost wish that Steffi had turned out like her.”

Greta nodded, “Nothing Steffi ever did was in the interest of anyone but herself. I don’t how she became the person she did having been such an adorable little girl.”

Alexander looked towards a photo frame of her, “Money happened to her, Greta. Money and fame. As for Tina, there is so much more for her to know, but she just isn’t ready yet.”

[gavrenwick]

Wednesday 16th September 2009

Tina and Abbi sat in Tina’s office, but the day was moving slowly. They had got back home very early this morning, but had drunk that many sugary drinks that they found themselves unable to sleep. That, in turn, meant that they were in the office and making Valter’s day a pain in his backside.

“No, no, no,” he said, rubbing his eyes, “That isn’t ironic. That is coincidental.”

Tina rolled her eyes, “I just said that.”

“No you didn’t! Look, right, I’ll explain it best I can once more.”

“Please do,” nodded Tina, who smiled at Abbi when Valter looked away.

“Right, here we go then. It is ironic if a fire station burns down, but it is COINCIDENTAL if two fire stations burn down at the same time. It is rather simple when you look at it, Tina.”

Abbi frowned, “But if it’s ironic that one fire station burns down, surely two burning down at the same time is also ironic?”

Valter stood looking at her, “Don’t get involved you, you’re just making it worse.”

Abbi laughed, “Hey, mister, you’re talking to a journalist here. Irony is the use of words to express something other than and especially the opposite of the literal meaning. Coincidence is the occurrence of events that happen at the same time by accident, but seem to actually have some connection. Come on, Valter, I thought you’d know that.”

Valter’s eyes took on an evil look, “You two are just here to be a pain in my arse. I think I should bugger off home.”

Tina and Abbi both laughed, “Your use of irony and coincidence is so vague and general. I just found it necessary to put you in your place. Tina also knew the real meaning, we were just teasing. Sorry Valter,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Valter still wasn’t impressed, “You two can just leave me alone, I am not your friends,” he said, taking a folder from Jackie as she popped into the door way. He briefly scanned the file before handing it to Tina, “Mairi’s weekly report. Keaghan and Castarnado are both a few weeks from coming back, while Chris Smith is still a long way off.”

Tina smiled at Abbi and took the file, “Nothing I didn’t already expect and know then. Keaghan can rejoin the reserve side; if you get him training as soon as his ankle improves then he can have a stint down there with his brothers. It’d be good for him to get a bit of playing under his belt considering the first team is rock solid at the moment.”

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted to be demoted,” quipped Valter.

“I know the kid well; he’ll be fine about it.”

Valter nodded, “Well I’m going to take my leave. It’s sunny outside with no chance of rain, and there is little for me to do here, so I’m going to squeeze nine holes in on the course,” he said, taking up a golf stance and waving an imaginary club to hammer home his point.

Abbi stood up too, “I need to get going aswell. I’m heading down to Manchester to write a piece on Edwin van der Sar. I’ve got an interview with him tomorrow morning so I need to find a hotel in Manchester to stay in tonight.”

“Both of you leaving me? Well now don’t I feel loved,” mumbled Tina, a smile on her face. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some things to do anyway.”

There was a sudden curse from Valter, “Oh, holy mother of God. After just stating how sunny it was, and that it wasn’t raining, it begins to rain.”

Abbi leant over his shoulder, “Now THAT, is ironic.”

[chesterfan2]

There was a sudden curse from Valter, “Oh, holy mother of God. After just stating how sunny it was, and that it wasn’t raining, it begins to rain.”

Abbi leant over his shoulder, “Now THAT, is ironic.”

We know a song about that, don't we children?

[Dalbeider]

Yeah, I suddenly had the urge to create a few clones of myself, board everyone on an old car and start driving at full speed singing our lungs out for some reason.

Still rockin', gav. Although I dislike Abbi for some reason. May be my irrational distrust for journalists speaking here.

[gavrenwick]

Cheers guys

*****

Thursday 17th September 2009

“I’m sorry, Paulo, but I simply will not be selling Edixon back to you,” snapped Tina, getting generally agitated with Paulo Autuori, manager of Edixon Perea’s former club Gremio.

“And what about if he gets homesick anytime soon? What will you do then?” he replied, now treading very finely on the edge of Tina’s mood.

“He won’t be getting homesick. Listen; at the end of the day, I just won’t be selling Edixon. Not back to his old, not to any new club. He is the key to what we are trying to build here, not some stop gap for temporary success. Edixon won’t be leaving us.”

“You’ll hear from me again soon, Miss Powell,” sniped Paulo, before hanging up.

Tina sat in her chair, visibly peeved at having to deal with a call like that. Paulo had been only too happy to sell Edixon to St Mirren when he wasn’t scoring, but his current form for club and re-introduction to the national picture has seen interest pique once more. The former Bordeaux prospect must definitely want to re-affirm himself as a fixture in modern football, and a move back to Brazil wouldn’t necessarily help that. Tina got up and made her way to Gilmour’s office.

She knocked first, “You won’t believe the call I just had,” she said, matter of factly.

Gilmour smiled, “I’m guessing it was either an annoying manager or an annoying agent?”

“The former,” quipped Tina with a roll of her eyes, “Paulo Autuori called trying to bargain with me to get Edixon Perea back! The guy sold him to me only a few months back, I can’t believe him.”

“Well he must really regret his decision now.”

“I pretty much know he’s going to come back with a bigger offer now though. He just won’t be able to sit back and not do anything about it if he really wants to get him back to Gremio.”

“Well if the offer is sizeable then we couldn’t possibly say no.”

Tina found herself shocked at what Gilmour had said, potentially asking herself if he was kidding or being truthful. The only way to find out would be to ask, but it could go disastrously wrong. “I hope you’re kidding,” she replied, testing the waters with a fake smile.

Gilmour shook his head, “Look, Tina, we are just a small Scottish club. Even the biggest of us have trouble holding on to key players, especially ones with real value. If a valuable offer comes along, we must seriously consider it, on the basis to that it is to protect us from getting into any financial difficulties. Have you forgotten about Livingston? Gretna? Airdrieonians? Dundee are also experiencing severe financial difficulties at the minute,” he said, interrupted by Tina.

“Alright, I get the point Stewart. I just don’t want to lose key assets of my side, that’s my main worry.”

“I wouldn’t do anything to put your squad harmony in jeopardy Tina; I’d have thought you would know me by now. But if something big ever comes in the way of money, we simply wouldn’t have an excuse for saying no. It really is about the money, even if you love a club as much as I do, I still have to make sure we stay afloat.”

“I understand,” replied Tina, heading out of the door.

“I hope you do understand. But please,” he said, halting her in her steps, “Be under no illusions; if a lucrative deal comes in for Perea, he will be sold.”

Tina looked at her chairman, wondering where he had changed. It didn’t seem like the same person.

[gavrenwick]

Friday 18th September 2009

...St Mirren visit Aberdeen tomorrow in what has been billed as St Mirren’s toughest game in the league so far this season. The Buddies have amassed ten points in their four games and currently sit surprisingly on top of the SPL pile. Many believe it won’t last though, and that the end of the run begins at Pittodrie tomorrow. “We will certainly be going all out for the win tomorrow in an attempt to end their unlikely run,” Mark McGhee told us, “But we do appreciate how St Mirren have given early hope to the smaller SPL sides. We would love to be up the top end nearer the end of the season, hopefully starting with victory tomorrow.”

St Mirren haven’t played either of the Old Firm yet, so it’ll be interesting to see how they perform when the times comes, but for now, they are enjoying the limelight.

“I love how McGhee thinks Aberdeen are the only ones heading for victory tomorrow,” mused Tina, handing the newspaper to Valter.

“Well we will have to prevent them from doing just that.”

"I won’t be accepting any less than an attempt at doing so. At least it will take my mind off the situation regarding Perea and Gilmour. Still can’t believe what he said.”

“Not what I would expect from Gilmour either.”

Valter stood next to Tina as the first team players ran laps around the pitch. Their general fitness was holding up nicely so far in the season, even for the old guns such as Davids and Camara. “Yeah, he was adamant that if a lucrative deal came in then the club would take it.”

Valter shrugged, “Well I can’t say I blame him, but I didn’t have Gilmour down for being that kind of person."

“I guess at the end of the day, it really is about the money.”

Tina had a forlorn look on her face, still reeling from the whole Perea thing. Losing her star striker just wasn’t something she could contemplate, especially after only a short time at the club. Valter attempted to cheer her up by handing her a scout report for Aberdeen.

“I think we need to take advantage of their defensive woes, Tina,” he said as she took it from him. “They’re missing Ricky Foster, Jonathan Crawford, Zander Diamond and Rogvi Holm. We surely need to work on that, force their hand, you might say.”

Tina nodded, “It is probably our best way in. Their squad is extremely strong, especially in midfield. If we want to win that battle then we are going to need experienced heads out on the field. I’m siding towards starting Davids again, alongside Murray and Dorman. We need to come out on top when they come up against the hard working likes of Mark Kerr and Sammy Stewart.”

“That would definitely be a wise option. Travelling to Pittodrie is proving tough for those who have so far, no goals being conceded. If there was ever a time it would be now, that’s for certain.”

“Lee Miller is going to be a pain in the arse aswell, being their sole striker and having five already this season. The perfect job for Edgar, I think, to babysit him.”

“It would be the biggest test for him so far, and would prove whether or not he has the skills and ability to play at this age and at this level,” said Valter, retaking the scout sheet from Tina.

“We need to get the best out of Brandy again, like last week. If we can get him and Perea functioning as a proper strikeforce and get them to blend, we’ll have potentially one of the most devastating in the league.”

Valter nodded, “We better get on with it then,” he replied, calling the pair over.

[gavrenwick]

Saturday 19th September 2009

Aberdeen (2-1–1–5th) vs. St Mirren (3–1–0–1st)

Pittodrie

Scottish Premier League (5/38)

GK; Vincent Degre (8 apps, 0 goals)

DR; Michael Parkhurst (4 apps, 0 goals)

DL; Diego Contento (3 apps, 0 goals)

DC; Paul Wotton (4 apps, 2 goals)

DC; Malte Metzelder (0 apps, 0 goals)

DMC; Edgar Davids (4 apps, 0 goals)

MC; Andy Dorman (62 app, 17 goals)

MC; Hugh Murray (338 apps, 16 goals)

AMR; Edixon Perea (10 apps, 4 goals)

ST; Ciro Immobile (5 apps, 0 goals)

AML; Febian Brandy (6 apps, 2 goal)

SUBS; Mark Howard, Lee Mair, David Barron, Kyle Faulds, Alejandro Caiaffa, Tom Brighton, Billy Mehmet

“Quite a shift in the squad formation there, Tina,” said Valter, “It’s a good job I okayed it, you know, being your second in command.”

Tina laughed, “You make me smile, Valter.”

The gang were on the coach heading towards Aberdeen, the long three hour journey being filled with banter and general tomfoolery. The new craze was Nintendo DS’s, and nine of the guys on the bus had theirs out. Suffice to say that FIFA10 was the game of choice, general cries of foul play emanating from the back every ten minutes or so.

Today had been a good news day for Keaghan Jacobs, who received one of the most important phone calls of his career so far. Sixty four year old South Africa U-20 manager Thulani Kekana was the man getting in touch with Keaghan, giving him a spot in the South Africa U-20 squad for the U-20 World Cup in Egypt. Keaghan and his teammates would be squaring off against Honduras, UAE and Hungary, many expecting the Bafana-Bafana youngsters to get out of the group alongside Hungary.

Tina sat with the formation scribbled down on a notepad in front of her. Aberdeen would have been expecting Tina to go with the same formation as they had success with against St Johnstone, but that was an unsafe option. It was a big gamble to change the formation once again, but this could potentially be a tough game for St Mirren. Pretty much everything would rest on the experienced midfield Tina had chosen, because if they lost that battle, they’d most likely lose the match.

“It’s such a shame that Fabrice wasn’t deemed fit enough for this match,” mused Valter, eyeing up the pre-game fitness report delivered by John McCreadie. Two other names on the list were Ricardo Vaz Te and Rodney Sneijder, the latter a big miss considering his excellent influence in last week’s game. The fitness report highlighted a fault with wingers, but hopefully it would only be a one off.

“I know that look,” said Valter, eyes firmly planted on Tina. “What’s bothering you?”

“Anticipating McGhee, at the moment.”

“Even if he gets wind of what you are trying to achieve early on, you are so unbelievably tactically minded that you would be able to turn it back on him, or go down fighting trying anyway,” smiled Valter. “You really are one of the finest managers I’ve seen in a long time, and you will go far.”

Tina closed her eyes, “Well in that case, I better have a backup plan on paper just in case, hadn’t I? It would be the only natural thing to do if I am as gifted as you claim. And behave with the brown nosing, it doesn’t suit you,” she replied with a grin, turning the page over and beginning writing once more.

Valter sighed, “Was worth a try, especially considering I deserve a raise.”

[tenthreeleader]

Anticipating McGhee, at the moment.”

It's probably only gas.

But a fine post nonetheless! Tina for the league!

[gavrenwick]

Thanks tenthree

*****

The whole game was overshadowed by the fact that it was Aberdeen favourite Derek Young’s 250th game for the club today. There is no doubt he is going to be even more fired up for today’s match, especially if McGhee gets the most out of him like he has been doing.

There was a lot riding on today’s game, with many expecting St Mirren to finally show weakness and lose their first match in the league this season. Aberdeen are looking fairly strong, so it will definitely be a match of epic proportions.

The referee standing in the centre of the pitch is Charlie Richmond, but this his first St Mirren game of the season. He hasn’t officiated at an Aberdeen game either, but he did take charge of a St Mirren reserve team match ten days ago.

As expected, McGhee had opted for his tried and tested 4-5-1, meaning Davids would have complete control of Lee Miller. It was a battle he was more than experienced enough to win out in, but the only real evidence would be on the field. The players stood ready for kickoff, Miller and Young ready to open proceedings. And that they did, the whistle blowing.

There were warning signings pretty much from the off, Mulgrew rampaging down the left as soon as he received the ball. His cross was blocked by Parkhurst, but that wasn’t enough to prevent the corner. Mulgrew whipped it in, searching for Miller by all accounts, but only found Degre as the French keeper leapt to punch it away nice and cleanly.

Tina was pleased when Brandy was finally allowed to unleash some pace, the on-loan forward capitalising on missed interception by Considine. He earned a corner, one that Wotton nicely whipped in to the near post. Up popped the 6’5 Metzelder, as expected and he flashed his first of the game, and for the club, just over Langfield’s bar. Two minutes later and the same thing was happening again, but sadly the outcome was identical too. Metzelder got under the ball just a little too much, and his header flew well over the bar. The intent was great to see though.

It became clear very quickly that the pace of both Perea and Brandy was going to upset the Dons defence all afternoon, and it turned out to be the biggest weapon available to St Mirren. Considine was twice forced into errors by Perea, earning corners on both occasions. The first went to nobody in black and white, but the second almost reaped dividends. Wotton received the ball just on the edge of the area and lashed a shot at goal, Langfield doing well to spot and save it amongst the throng of bodies. “So bloody close,” mumbled Tina, pulling a face to match her words.

Twenty seven minutes in and the travelling visitors had their hearts in their mouth as Miller broke away from the defence to latch onto a clearance. His first touch was delayed, and that allowed Wotton to pressure him. Miller still managed a dangerous shot at goal, but Degre pulled off a great save to prevent him.

The next event in the game would absolutely infuriate any manager, let alone one whose side it happens for. Immobile received a great ball from Dorman, and took it delightfully on his chest. It got him into the box, but he miskicked and then went down, insinuating that Considine had impeded him. He hadn’t, and Richmond had no qualms in booking the Italian for diving. It was ridiculous to see, and Tina looked furious on the sidelines. He wouldn’t escape the wrath at half time.

Thankfully it was quickly forgotten by the home fans when they found themselves the subject of humiliation when Miller turned superbly in the box, and fired what has to be the worst shot ever seen high into the stands. It went out for a throw in, which made the derision towards him even heavier.

There was adulation as the referee brought to an end what can only be viewed as a pretty poor first half. The Wotton shot and Degre’s save from Miller had been the only chances on goal, leaving much to the imagination. Immobile getting booked for diving was embarrassing though, and he was lucky to even have the chance of remaining on the pitch for the second half.

“Well, I think words need to be had,” mentioned Tina as the players and staff trudged down the tunnel. Valter nodded in response, tilting his head towards Charlie Mulgrew.

“I think he’s injured, so there is a chance he will stop rampaging down the left hand side. Parkhurst hasn’t looked happy having to watch both him and Derek Young.”

Tina nodded, “Plenty to talk about in here it seems,” she said as they reached the dressing room.

[gavrenwick]

“We have a lot of work to do out there guys, but I know that we can. We need to keep eyes on Young and Miller because both have made you look foolish a couple of times. Miller could have scored twice, and both occasions I saw no-one try to close him down. We have to improve that or they will make us pay in the second half. They’re going to come out firing, so we need to be ready to hit back with our shots. Make it happen, boys.”

Tina turned to Valter as they walked back out, “With pace looking like our main weapon, I’m going to switch Brandy to the striker slot and put Immobile on the wing. Let us see how this pans out.”

The game re-kicked off with St Mirren, but to almost utter annoyance both Immobile and Dorman misread each other’s intentions and lost the ball immediately. That meant Pawlett was racing down the right, where he got taken down by Contento. It was an instant yellow from the referee, obviously having no choice but to book him. It was cynical and most likely deserving of the card it got.

In turn it was St Mirren who had the best chance of the whole game when Davids won the ball superbly in his own half. He lashed it high over the defence, and Perea saw the advantage to be had. He raced in front of Stuart Duff, just about squeezing through Duff and Considine, who was coming the other way. His first touch was superb, but the pressure got to him as Langfield raced out, Perea hitting his shot right into the keepers legs.

Aberdeen seemed to be crumbling a little bit, Perea taking advantage of the lacklustre Mulgrew, who now looked nothing like he did in the first half. If he was injured, or in pain, why was McGhee keeping him on? Derek Young added to their flailing performance when he crumpled Hugh Murray in the centre circle, picking up a yellow for his clumsy challenge.

“Immobile just isn’t alive out there, Valter. Get Billy prepped and on, we need to inject some life into this,” said Tina, eager to try and steal something from this match.

Peter Pawlett was the next to receive a yellow card, his pointless tug on Contento’s shirt a seemingly revenge filled move from the full back’s earlier foul. As the game moved on it became alarmingly clear as to why Mulgrew was still on the pitch when Aberdeen won a freekick about 25 yards out. He stepped onto it and smashed it goalwards, some real pace pushing it towards Degre. The keeper had it under control though, and was happy enough to jump up and see it go over his bar.

The introduction of Mehmet came when that freekick sailed out, and he was thrust straight into the action. Perea won the ball on the right and a superb mazy run along the edge of the Aberdeen box saw him play a neat little ball to Brandy. Brandy could have done one of two things, but he did neither and ended up losing the ball, much to even his own chagrin.

Sadly for St Mirren some lacklustre play led to their undoing, and it came in comical fashion. Young won another corner on the left, and Mulgrew sent it to the near post. There was Considine, who flicked his head at it rather weakly and pathetically. Degre hadn’t anticipated how weak the header would be, ending up being fooled by it as it rolled softly in at the near post. What makes it even worse is that the man meant to be there had left his post. Someone would pay heartily for it.

St Mirren needed to come back fighting as quickly as possible, but found it increasingly difficult as Aberdeen kept the ball well and held onto it like their lives were in danger. Corner after corner didn’t help this either, the ball rarely leaving the St Mirren half. When St Mirren did have the ball, they could do absolutely nothing with it.

The clock ran down so quickly that it wasn’t fun anymore, and despite instructions from Tina for the boys to chuck themselves forward in search of an equaliser, no-one was trying. A thirty yard Wotton freekick was weak and lacked direction, pretty much summing up the performance of today.

A Scottish match wouldn’t be the same if it didn’t have controversy, and as such it came two minutes into injury time. Mehmet was jumping for a header in the box after a superb Brandy run, Considine looking to have turned antagonist when he pushed him over. The referee waved play on, and to be truthful, it just looked like a desperate attempt from the players to salvage something they didn’t really deserve.

The final whistle couldn’t come quick enough for McGhee who looked extremely smug on the sidelines. Aberdeen had won this battle, but in real truth they had hardly done enough to deserve the three points. Equal share would have been more fitting for the general game, but it just wasn’t to be. Luck had been on St Mirren’s side since the start of the season, and now it went against them.

You can’t win them all.

Aberdeen 1 (Considine 69)

St Mirren 0

Attendance; 16,517

MOTM; Charlie Mulgrew

[gavrenwick]

Two sides had the chance to overtake St Mirren at the summit of the table, but they didn’t manage it.

Tony Mowbray welcomed Csaba Laszlo’s Hearts to Celtic Park, but the game was marred by injury on a dry warm afternoon. Both Calum Elliot and Andreas Hinkel were stretchered off in the opening twenty minutes. There was however two early goals for Mowbray, giving him something to cheer about. Zheng Zhi slotted home the opener after six minutes, and then fired a penalty in on the stroke of the half hour mark to give Celtic and ultimately unassailable lead.

It was once again a slightly quite week in the SPL, and that was proved as Hamilton entertained Falkirk at New Douglas Park. Steffi Rheinheimer had a well drilled squad in action, and they stood resolute to the barrage that Hamilton chucked at their goal. They stood strong for the whole match, and were pleased that by the final whistle they had ground out a goalless draw.

There was also a goalless draw in Edinburgh, Hibernian and St Johnstone the guilty culprits. Hibs had more than enough chances to put themselves ahead, but Riordan and Nish failed to hit the target the whole game. John Hughes won’t have been happy had St Johnstone turned in their late chance, on-loan St Mirren man Michael Higdon striking the post from three yards.

One of the eight goals scored this week was to be found at Tannadice Park, Dundee United playing Motherwell. It was a generally close game, with both sides having chances, but Motherwell stole the win when John Sutton headed in half an hour in. Dundee had nine shots at goal, but couldn’t make any of them count as Well keeper John Ruddy stole the show with some superb saves.

The final game of the week was a late kickoff between Kilmarnock and Hristo Stoichkov’s Rangers. Kris Boyd headed Gers into an early lead, Kyle Lafferty adding to the tally two minutes before half time. With Rangers comfortably in the driving seat, they only needed to consolidate, but almost lost what they had built up. Jamie Hamill tucked away a 67th minute penalty, and missed an open goal four minutes later. Kilmarnock could have completed the comeback, but their attacking intent waned and Lafferty finished the job two minutes from time.

| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
[color="#2e8b57"]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 1st   |       | St. Mirren    |       | 5     | 3     | 1     | 1     | 10    | 3     | +7    | 10    | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/color]
| 2nd   |       | Rangers       |       | 5     | 3     | 1     | 1     | 9     | 3     | +6    | 10    | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 3rd   |       | Aberdeen      |       | 5     | 3     | 1     | 1     | 6     | 2     | +4    | 10    | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 4th   |       | Hearts        |       | 5     | 3     | 0     | 2     | 5     | 4     | +1    | 9     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 5th   |       | Celtic        |       | 5     | 2     | 2     | 1     | 6     | 3     | +3    | 8     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 6th   |       | Dundee Utd    |       | 5     | 2     | 2     | 1     | 5     | 2     | +3    | 8     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 7th   |       | Hibernian     |       | 5     | 2     | 2     | 1     | 7     | 5     | +2    | 8     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 8th   |       | Kilmarnock    |       | 5     | 2     | 0     | 3     | 4     | 6     | -2    | 6     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 9th   |       | Motherwell    |       | 5     | 1     | 1     | 3     | 4     | 7     | -3    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 10th  |       | Falkirk       |       | 5     | 1     | 1     | 3     | 3     | 11    | -8    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 11th  |       | St. Johnstone |       | 5     | 1     | 1     | 3     | 4     | 13    | -9    | 4     | 
[color="red"]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 12th  |       | Hamilton      |       | 5     | 0     | 2     | 3     | 1     | 5     | -4    | 2     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/color]

*****

"At least we're still top," joked Valter in response to the league table he had in front of him.

Tina smiled, "I quite like the look of the table still. We aren't going to win every game, and we didnt play that badly today. We'll be fine."

[gavrenwick]

Sunday 20th September 2009

“And they have the cheek to say that I was ‘cagey’ in my press conference?”

Valter shrugged his shoulders, “Let them say what they want, Tina.”

“Do you think they ever apply common sense to anything they write?” snapped Tina, seemingly aggravated by what she had read.

“Just let it be! You seem to be letting it get to you way too easily. Since when have you ever paid attention to what anyone has written before?” he sighed in response.

“Since I decided that they are moronic. I wasn’t being cagey at all, even though I had every right to be if I WAS being cagey.”

Valter got up and grabbed his coat, “I’m off home. Your mood is seriously grating on me, and I can’t for the life of me understand what is wrong with you.”

Tina rolled her eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Valter nodded in response, “You had better be in a good mood.”

Tina frowned, and watched as he left. She lift open the lid of her laptop, and immediately clicked onto the BBC Sport website. It wasn’t her usual or first port of call, for sports news, but it would the job for her right now. She was just interested in checking out how the English Premier League looked, and BBC would be enough for that.

Manchester City currently leads the Premiership, one point clear of Tottenham in second. Al-Mubarak must be happy that his money is leading to some sort of early success for Mark Hughes, and many had tipped Hughes to be gone by Christmas. If he continues to do as good a job as he is doing now, there shouldn’t be any worries for his job safety. At the bottom is Portsmouth, but only because they had a points deduction at the beginning of the season. Paul Hart has done well to keep that set of boys together, and would be sat 14th had they not had the deduction to contend with.

Tina then clicked on to the Ligue 1 of France, interested to know how an old friend was getting on. Sadly, he wasn’t doing too well in the start of his season. Sochaux were sitting in the relegation zone, but only on goal difference. Francis Gillot was an old friend of Tina’s father, and she had grown fond of him on the occasions they had met. PSG were the side looking pretty at the top of the Ligue 1, but they could lose the top spot if Lille won their game in hand. Valenciennes and Le Mans are the basement, neither side having picked up a win in their opening six matches.

Germany was next on the list, and there was a surprise as the league leaders at current are Nurnberg. Bayern are only a point behind though, and with a game in hand are firmly expected to overtake the surprise package. Bochum currently sit bottom of the league, with no point from five games and just a single solitary goal courtesy of Diego Klimowicz. Bayern are distinct favourites to storm to the title, even though Wolfsburg are the current holders. They currently sit 12th, and are already being billed as one season wonders.

Italy next, and there was no surprise for Tina as the top three consisted of Juventus, AC Milan and Roma. There has only been four matches in the season so far though, and much is expected to change. Inter were the surprise disappointment so far, Mourinho’s men failing to register a win in their opening fixtures and sitting just above the relegation zone on goal difference. To no-one’s surprise Catania and Cagliari are joint bottom.

The final league was Spain’s La Liga, but with it only having started lately, not much could be taken from the two games most sides had played. Mallorca sat at the top of the table, enjoying wins in their opening three games. Atletico sat at the bottom without a goal or point, but with a strikeforce boasting both Forlan and Aguero, they can hardly stay there over the coming months.

Tina sat back in her seat. She smiled to herself at being top of the SPL table; it meant a lot to her and the players that they suffered a slight failure yesterday and still managed to hold on to the dominant top spot.

Motherwell were due to visit on Wednesday for the League Cup 3rd Round tie, and then the next five league games were all on TV. The end of September and all of October was going to be extremely busy.

[Panpardus]

Okay, finally just re-read everything starting from 'One hit wonder'

Re-read as I'm pretty sure I have read some of this before, but thought it would be easier to just re-start

It's got nothing on m123234231231 stories as far as depth, but it's not bad.

In all seriousness, great story you have going here Gav, keep up the good work, I'll try and keep more up to date this time though.

[gavrenwick]

Cheers so much, Pan. Without sounding bigheaded, I like to push my stories as a good example of how writing improves if you stick with it over time. I'm proud of where it's come from since One Hit Wonder, so thanks for reading from the beginning.

******

Monday 21st September 2009

“Two coffees, no sugar please,” requested Tina, Abbi smiling across from her. “Can we also get two pieces of chocolate cake? Thank you.”

The waiter nodded, double checked the order, and went off into the kitchen of the Cafe. It was a nice mild day in Livingston, and with Tina having training in the afternoon, it only seemed logical to catch Abbi before she went back to Holland tomorrow.

“I know you’ve probably heard already, but unlucky with the result on Saturday. It was one of those that could have gone either way.”

Tina nodded, “We gave it our all, anyway. We’re still top, and that makes me happy. We shouldn’t be anywhere near there, but as we are, we’re going to relish it.”

“You do right,” smiled Abbi in response, before accepting the two plates of cake and the coffees from the returning waiter. He kept double looking at Tina, almost as if he knew who she was, but couldn’t place her in the context of anything.

“So what will you be doing between now and tomorrow?” asked Tina between mouthfuls of chocolate cake.

Abbi shrugged, “Nothing much for today, but before I leave tomorrow I’ve got an interview with both Glenn Loovens and your own Rodney Sneijder for an article I’m writing.”

“If it’s a Dutch themed article, why not talk with Edgar aswell?”

Abbi shook her head, “So many people have done interviews with him in the past. A lot is expected of Rodney, while Loovens has become a rotation player at Celtic. Something different for the readers, I guess.”

“At least you can do your job with no worry of your boss going over your head,” mused Tina, still reeling from what had gone on with Gilmour.

“I’m a journalist, of course my goes over my head. If it isn’t a pro-Dutch piece, he rarely prints it. My article on you almost went the way of the dodo.”

“Is he that one dimensional?”

“He’s an alright guy, he just has the chance to act like a fool on more than one occasion,” laughed Abbi.

The pair continued to eat their cake, also finishing their coffees in the process. They sat just chatting broadly, before it came time to part ways. “Well I’m going to have to be on my way now,” mumbled Tina, “Training to be presided over.”

Abbi smiled and hugged Tina, kissing her on the cheek. “I’ll be back across soon, I’m certain.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” replied Tina, before she made her way.

Abbi picked up her bag and coat, heading to her car. Her phone rang just as she sat down, “Maarten, what can I do for you?” she asked, knowing exactly what he wanted anyway.

The voice on the end chattered away, Abbi smiling to herself in the process of listening. “Yes, I’m meeting both of them tomorrow before I come back to Holland.”

Maarten spoke once more, and his final words brought out the biggest smile on Abbi’s face. “I love you too, hubby.”

[chesterfan2]

Lawks a Lordy ! wasn't expecting that !

good work, fella, keep it up.

[Dalbeider]

I knew I didn't like that woman for some reason besides her job.

The fact that I almost popped a vein while reading that last line must mean you're doing something well, gav. Keep at it.

[Spiro]

Damn Tina, wake up and smell the Cassie... i mean roses lol

So this Abbi is married to her editor but pashing Tina on the side.

interesting

[Satio]

Lawks a Lordy ! wasn't expecting that !

good work, fella, keep it up.

I knew I didn't like that woman for some reason besides her job.

The fact that I almost popped a vein while reading that last line must mean you're doing something well, gav. Keep at it.

Damn Tina, wake up and smell the Cassie... i mean roses lol

So this Abbi is married to her editor but pashing Tina on the side.

interesting

I pretty much just wanted to say what the rest of the lads have said. Oh, and again, I'll say this: I love it!

[gavrenwick]

It is always nice to get the tongues wagging about characters. Abbi, as a character, is there to mirror something Tina strives to have, but seemingly can't get. Funnily, I don't like her either, which makes her all that more enjoyable to write for.

*****

Tuesday 22nd September 2009

“It’s raining heavily, Valter,” muttered Tina. “What was so important that you needed to drag me to the stadium to watch this reserve team match?”

Valter smiled as the rain gently rattled off the top of the umbrella. The main noise emanating from the almost empty St Mirren Park was Aberdeen’s reserve team manager Scott Leitch. He was yelling at his players, in this, the second half of the reserve team game. Much like the first teamers, it was 0-0 at half time and Aberdeen had just taken the lead.

“I just want you to realise who and what is also available for first team selection. The League Cup game against Motherwell is tomorrow, and I think some of these boys have done enough to warrant a chance in that game. Most of them are equally, if not fitter, than some of the players already appearing for you. I just think a few could do with the boost of a chance to prove themselves.”

Tina stood under the umbrella, carefully paying attention to what he was saying. He was right. He was always right, and that is why she had him as her assistant. He was the pillar of information and experience that she needed, as while she may have a great tactical mind, she was still relatively raw and unkempt. She had to learn as much as she could from him while he was around, because he wouldn’t always be.

“Well, the fact that you are mentioning this to me means you must have a short list of names?”

Valter smiled and hurriedly pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Stephen McGinn, Aaron Wildig and Dominic Kennedy are the boys I’d love to see given a chance. You should know Wildig well enough, as you did bring him in.”

“I had kind of forgotten about him,” Tina admitted.

“I’d just like to see them given a chance tomorrow. I think they may pleasantly surprise you.”

Tina frowned, continuing to watch the game from the under the rain free umbrella zone. “They haven’t helped the reserves win a game yet though, Valter.”

“Doesn’t mean they aren’t playing well,” he said with a smile. The rain really was pounding down now, prompting Tina to make an excuse to go and get a coffee.

“Still coffee and three sugars?” she asked, refusing to move anywhere just yet.

“Of course,” he replied. He just watched as she continually looked at her. “What?”

“It’s raining.”

“It certainly is. Be quick and you won’t get too wet walking up to the kettle.”

“And they say chivalry isn’t dead,” she muttered, but in joking of course.

“You aren’t getting this umbrella, dear. So you better get going to get that coffee.”

Tina lift up her hood, and turned to Valter after getting just ten steps away. “You know what happened to the last man who stood on the sidelines with an umbrella?”

Valter shook his head, “No, what happened?”

Tina just tapped her nose and walked away. “Hey!” yelled Valter, gaining no response as Tina disappeared into the stadium. He would have the last laugh though.

Three late goals from Billy Mehmet, Tom Brighton and Wildig saw St Mirren overcome the Aberdeen reserves and seal their first win of the campaign. Motherwell would be visiting tomorrow, and they had more than staked their claim for a chance at a run in the first team. It was a dilemma Tina didn’t like, but was more than happy to have.

[gavrenwick]

Wednesday 23rd September 2009

St Mirren (0-0–0) vs. Motherwell (0–0–0)

St Mirren Park

Scottish League Cup Third Round

GK; Mark Howard (0 apps, 0 goals)

DR; Michael Parkhurst (5 apps, 0 goals)

DL; Diego Contento (4 apps, 0 goals)

DC; John Potter (5 apps, 0 goals)

DC; Malte Metzelder (1 apps, 0 goals)

DMC; Paul Wotton (5 apps, 2 goals)

MC; Alejandro Caiaffa (9 apps, 0 goals)

MC; Aaron Wildig (0 apps, 0 goals)

AMC; Ricardo Vaz Te (9 apps, 1 goal)

ST; Ciro Immobile (6 apps, 0 goals)

ST; Edixon Perea (11 apps, 4 goal)

SUBS; Vincent Degre, Lee Mair, Jack Ross, Tom Brighton, Febian Brandy, Rodney Sneijder, Andy Dorman

The early training session of the day had turned out to be a bit of a failure for the players Valter suggested the evening before. Billy Mehmet was just doing a general job around the pitch, and rather unluckily pulled his hamstring. Mairi was already on hand, but the problem was a big one, and he will be out for up to four weeks now. Valter was also there, and he seemed extremely disappointed, especially after he played so well last night. Brighton would only make the bench again, Immobile preferred for this one.

One player did make it into the starting squad, Wildig given the opportunity to dominate midfield with Caiaffa. It was his big chance, and hopefully he would take it with both hands. He was here to gain some experience after all, and this match would be as a good time as any other. It was now an hour before kickoff, and Tina had to deal with the media.

“Two players are given their first appearances of the season today, Tina. Was that influenced by their performances at the reserve game last night?”

Tina nodded, “Howard had a decent enough game, and he was number one here last year. Vincent has been excellent for us, and done enough to warrant a rest for today’s match. Aaron played terrific last night, and now it’s time to step it up for him with today’s match.”

“Did you realise, come the squad selection time, that you only have three players on the pitch with any goals this season?”

“It was clear to me, yes. Perea is most likely going to be our top scorer this season, and I’m not that concerned if our defenders don’t register any, but hopefully some will come for midfielders over time. We have nineteen goals in eleven so far, and that isn’t a stat that worries me.”

Gilmour called an end to the press conference as the allotted time was up, but one reporter pulled Tina aside.

“Can I have a word for you?” he asked, his English not exactly correct.

Tina smiled, “I’m sorry, I don’t have the time I’m afraid. If you leave your number with someone standing over there,” she said, pointing towards Jackie and Gilmour, “Then they will get it to me and I can call you when I have time.”

“Please, it about Abbi van Beuren.”

Tina was a little shocked that he mentioned her, but she simply didn’t have the time to stop around for a chat. “Like I said, leave your number with someone and I’ll get back to you.”

The man nodded, and Tina smiled in response again. “Thank you,” she said before heading to the dressing room.

The man stood there for a second before leaving with the last remaining reporter. Needless to say, he didn’t leave his number with anyone.

[gavrenwick]

“This is definitely a competition we can do well in, boys. Last year you reached the final of the Scottish Cup, and while that is also a possibility, for now this is our chance at glory. If we get Celtic or Rangers then we can definitely hope that they don’t put out a full strength side, but for now we have Motherwell in front of us. They’re strong, no doubt about it, but they are almost certainly beatable. Let’s put the disappointment of the Aberdeen match behind us and come out strongly, and prove to them we haven’t now come out of the honeymoon period and we are to be taken seriously.”

The talk roused the players for the kickoff, and they trudged out into the rain free but very cool evening air. Tina wrapped her coat up around her neck, the chilly air not nice when it hits your back and ruffles your body from inside.

The game didn’t start in St Mirren’s favour though, and that was always going to be a problem. Motherwell broke down the left, Reynolds and Humphrey combined superbly to allow Reynolds to cross into the box. Contento rose high to get his head on it, but it went backwards into the feet of Sutton. He hit the ball powerfully, but an instinctive save from Howard kept it out.

It got no easier just a minute later as Gresko earned a freekick on the edge of the area thanks to a bumbling Wotton challenge. The former Blackburn man set himself up to take it aswell, and he bent it well enough, but Howard was equal to it once more. It wasn’t for lack of trying anyway, Motherwell were simply all over the Buddies in the early stages.

Thankfully both Caiaffa and Wildig managed to get the ball and work some pressure off of the defence. It worked too, and for the first time St Mirren had a chance to build something up. Some decent midfield work allowed Vaz Te to get in on the game, his run down the right bringing a corner for his efforts. Sadly the set piece failed to have any impact as it harmlessly sailed over the crossbar.

Sadly for the home fans the swing of play switched quickly back to the visitors, and it was almost harmful when right back Bandalovski broke away down the right. Contento had to pull inside to cover for the absent Potter, which allowed the full back too much time to cross for Sutton. Contento was no match for him, and Sutton made the header, but didn’t make it count as it flew wide of the target.

“We’re getting decimated out there,” said Tina, quickly running ideas over in her head. None immediately came to mind, not a viable temporary solution anyway. She had every faith that her tactic could win this one out. Motherwell weren’t about to let up at that point, and Reynolds had Howard scurrying hopelessly across for a shot, but he was more than relieved to see it go past the right side of the post.

Something changed in Motherwell almost after that miss, and they suffered the plights of wayward passing and it would eventually cost them. A stray midfield pass from Chris Humphrey found Wildig instead of his teammate, and the youngster made it count when he gave it to Wotton. The natural centre back playing defensive midfield played it to Caiaffa, who then unleashed a little bit of Colombian genius. He lift a delicious through ball over the head of Steven Saunders, allowing Perea to run onto it as they thought like one person. Perea took one touch with his right to lower the pace of the ball, and with our first proper shot on goal, we were a goal up.

The goal was meant to spur the home side into a frenzy, but on this occasion it had the exact opposite effect. Motherwell shrugged off the initial failure to stop the goal, and bounced back with some slick wing play. In truth it was the wings that were causing the most problems, Humphrey and O’Brien the two culprits. On this occasion Bandalovski pushed his way down the right, and the Bulgarian sent a peach of a cross to Humphrey on the edge of the area, who took a first time shot at Howard’s goal. It took too much of the wind and it rose high over the bar, a poor shot to end a fine move.

The home side were content though, and they had every reason to be. Their side was a goal up, and at current weren’t really getting troubled by the Motherwell attack. It should really have gone two nil, Caiaffa and Wildig combining superbly to set Caiaffa up for the shot, his lobbed effort beating Ruddy but not beating the crossbar. Any other day and it might have bounced back or even into the goal, but not today. Today was going to be a one of few goals.

“Tell Jack to get prepped for the second half, Andy,” she said to Millen who sat next to her. “Malte is looking to be wearing thin for fitness out there, and Humphrey is mugging him consistently.”

Andy nodded and shuffled across to where Jack was sat. He relayed Tina’s instructions and the defender looked genuinely happy to be given another shot at the first team, having been dislodged recently.

Tina was just getting ready to head down the tunnel for half time, when a heart stopping moment occurred. O’Brien took a wild but fairly powerful left footed shot that hit Potter on the knee. It then changed direction, Howard scrambling across to reach it. He didn’t, but was thankful that the post stopped it for him. Contento cleared, and the whistle was finally blown.

Now that was too close.

[gavrenwick]

“I don’t want my teamtalk to come across as degrading, especially considering we are a goal up, but we need to tighten up big time. Humphrey and O’Brien are having an absolute day out down the wings and they need stopping on a regular basis. Sutton is a danger in the air, so let’s get tighter on him aswell. Malte, I’m taking you off for Jack and then shuffling Parkhurst into the centre. Let’s try and finish the job here and make it to the quarter finals.”

A quarter final place gave St Mirren the chance at getting a favourable route to the semi’s, and from there anything was possible. If they made it through this afternoon, then everything would be put into getting to the final. The group strolled back out, closely followed by the staff. As soon as the referee emerged, the game recommenced.

It took one minute for things to liven up, but not in a good way for the home side. Murphy had the ball in midfield, and he beat Wildig with a deft turn. Wotton wasn’t having any of it and he charged after the young Well player, chopping him down from behind after getting done for pace. The referee had no qualms in handing out the first yellow card of the match,

The stopping of the game for the booking subsequently led to a nice break in any Motherwell brutality. The defence had a chance to solidify, allowing a breather for the midfield, and the chance to garner some momentum. That did happen, but only for the visitors. Archdeacon, who had come on at half time, was proving himself a handful for the St Mirren centre backs, and he won a corner fifty six minutes in. O’Brien was given the corner taking duty once more, and his whipped cross found Sutton. His header was weak though, and Howard had no problems in plucking it from the air with ease.

With the young midfield pairing seemingly having had little influence on the game since the goal from Perea in the first half, Tina came to the decision to remove one of them for an older head. “Dorman on for Wildig, Valter. Let the official know and get him stripped.”

A minute later and the switch had occurred, Wildig happy to receive applause for his efforts in todays match. He had done fairly well in his debut, and Tina was more than happy to have secured his signature for the season. Dorman though showed how important he is, instantly flicking a cross over the defence for Perea. Ruddy came out to meet Perea, but misjudged the flight of the ball. Perea headed it over the keeper, but was disappointed to see it hit the bar and go over. Ruddy was definitely more relieved.

Perea was seemingly the main St Mirren threat, and he struck gold when Caiaffa sliced the defence open with another deft ball. Perea had strayed offside, but having not realised, continued to play on. He struck the ball past Ruddy, who made no real effort to save it. That made Perea realise, and he checked across to the linesman, disappointed at seeing the flag raised.

As expected, Motherwell eventually found a way to turn the heat up on the home side. Their passing became slick, and that aggravated the St Mirren midfield massively. Humphrey and Gresko were the main problem as they constantly broke apart the right side of the defence. Cross after cross rained in on Howard’s goal, and the keeper was only able to handle so much at once.

The situation was made ten times worse when Motherwell manager Jim Gannon went for a three striker system. This would give Humphrey even more chance of testing the defence, and he would certainly get more chances at goal. Murphy and Humphrey combined superbly to play the striker in, and Howard was forced into a decision. He came out and slid for the ball, taking it excellently before he could open fire on goal.

Another Motherwell substitute saw Humphrey revert back to midfield, the newly introduced Jutkiewicz taking his place up front. By now Motherwell were absolutely dominating the match, taking fully control of the midfield and attacking relentlessly. It really wasn’t good on the St Mirren defence, and they weren’t coping well.

Bandalovski was the next to try his luck, and it was once again Humphrey causing the multitude of trouble for Parkhurst. The Bulgarian charged through the middle, easily bypassing Potter before meeting Parkhurst head on. The two locked horns very quickly, but Bandalovski got the better of Parkhurst by just about shrugging him aside. He now had a clean shot on goal, and he struck with power. Howard was prepared, and he got down quickly to palm it away, Potter doing something right and clearing the ball.

Motherwell were increasingly getting closer, but they blew their chance of making the four minutes of injury time count when O’Brien went in extremely nastily on Caiaffa. The Colombian went down in pain, and the referee had a word with the Motherwell player. It wasted quite a bit of time, and in the end it cost them their momentum.

As the final whistle went, Tina let out a massive sigh. St Mirren had managed it. Just.

St Mirren 1 (Perea 25)

Motherwell 0

Attendance: 4,397

MOTM: John Ruddy