Baby Sitting City - Part Two

[JimT]

Technical Details

FM 2008 ver. 8.0.2. running all available leagues in England, France, Germany, Italy, Portugal, Scotland and Spain with all teams playable using real players with masked attributes and a large Database. I start the game as an ex-International player.

Game Play.

Apart from recruiting staff the in game search engine will not be used. Players will be signed based upon their performance in an opposing team or as reported on by my scouts.

Background.

This story is a rewrite of an original tale called ‘Baby Sitting City’ which I stopped writing in May 2008. I stopped the story in a manner, which would enable me to return once I had an appetite for it again.

My intention to do so was scuppered by a massive board change in July 2008 which left the story in tatters and virtually unreadable.

Encouraged by others I have returned to the story – but it is a rewrite and, as such, will reflect more than a few, but hopefully, subtle changes. Because of this rewrite, I have not copied over any comments in the original story. They might not be relevant here.

As always.

Enjoy.

Life and Death.

The views of life held by some people can be many and varied. There are those who maintain that there are no certainties in life other than death.

We will all die sometime.

If that is true, and I see no reason to disagree with it then there must be at least two other certainties.

The first is that if you are alive and simply awaiting in a queue to knock on death’s door, then you must have been born.

The second is that at the moment of your birth you must have been pretty close to your mother at the time. In fact, just about everybody during the first few seconds/minutes of life outside of her body, is still attached to her. At the moment of your birth exactly where your mother happens to be is of no consequence. It can become very important later.

So there you are, snug as a bug in a rug, living in a very comfortable liquid filled environment with nothing to do all day and night except sleep when you feel like it and occasionally suck a protrusion that turns out to be called a thumb.

On really good days you may feel like giving those long things a good shake. They are called legs and also have protrusions but these ones are called toes. I don’t really know why there was a name change as they taste just as good as the thumbs.

One day, or was it night, I didn’t really know, I awoke and decided to give everything a good shake.

I must have broken something with all my wiggling because all of a sudden the walls, ceiling and floor started to close in on me. As this was happening all the liquid drained away and I found myself being slowly squeezed towards the door.

Well I wasn’t having that. I liked it in here. I started to fight against the force moving me towards the door but I was not strong enough to resist for too long. I think I managed to delay things a bit though. With all my struggling I must have damaged a few things as a lot of red stuff, I later found out it was called blood, started to contaminate my old home.

This struggle between me and the unknown irresistible object continued for a few minutes when, with no warning, all of a sudden the roof parted letting in a ton of what was called daylight and a pair of enormous thumbs attached to gigantic hands reached in and plucked me out of the house.

Jesus H. Christ – switch the heating on will you? It’s freezing out here! While you are at it, I would appreciate you removing all this crap and gunk from me. I’m a mess.

The next thing I know is that some sod cut through my food supply. How do I eat now? Not satisfied with that I am grabbed by the feet and dangled upside down like a side of beef in a butcher’s shop. As I hung there with the blood rushing to my head, I get a smack on the ass for my troubles.

What did I do to deserve that?

Naturally I start to cry and whoever my torturer is seemed satisfied with that. At long last I am treated decently as I am cleaned up, wrapped in some warm blankets and put to bed where, once I had finished crying, I eventually fell asleep.

I did not know it at the time but much later, I found out that I had struggled that much I had caused a fair amount of damage to my mother’s insides. So much in fact that she could not have any more children.

If my experience was anything to go by all those unborn babies owed me a massive debt of gratitude. I doubt that my mother saw it that way though.

Now I personally remember nothing of those events. I don’t even know anyone who does and exactly where you are on the planet is of no consequence to you at that particular moment in time as you are far too busy learning to breathe air, eat at one end, and dispel the waste at the other.

Your location could be important if you happened to be born in some starving drought ridden Third World country. If you were that unfortunate then the Grim Reaper would not just be around the corner, he would have his hands on you already.

If, on the other hand, you had been born in the Northern Hemisphere, particularly in Europe or North America then you had a pretty fair chance of survival and the Reaper was not liable to visit you under normal circumstances anytime soon. Dependent upon which god you worshipped or paid allegiance to the phrase three score years and ten might be relevant.

It is a phrase that I tend to discount when you consider that when it was written the majority of people were lucky to live into their mid-thirties and today, when the high eighties and nineties are considered normal, it makes a lot less sense.

Enough of conjecture – let’s stick to facts.

I was one of the lucky ones in that when I was born my Mother happened to be in King’s Lynn a town in Norfolk, England. Although I was born in the local hospital, we owned a home on the outskirts of town and the choice of King’s Lynn was no accident.

My Father was a serving RAF Officer currently stationed at RAF Marham just outside the town. He had selected King’s Lynn as our home of choice because he reckoned that most of his time in the force would be spent in East England or London. As it happened, that was a good choice because that is exactly the way his career panned out.

My very early life was spent mainly at home until I was about three years old when Dad was posted to a Station in Germany. After about a year there, I went the way of most Officers’ brats. A local nursery.

In my case, the selected Nursery was very local in that it was mainly staffed and populated by Germans. In spite, or because of this, it was a very good nursery and the fact that my new friends all spoke a different language was of no consequence as I soon became as fluent in German as they were.

We stayed in Germany for just under three years at which point it was back to our home in England. Dad had earned himself a promotion to Squadron Leader and was now stationed at Norwood, a Headquarters unit just outside London. For some reason Dad stayed at Norwood for five years which made me almost ten years old when he returned to flying duties, again at RAF Marham, which allowed us to move back home.

It was perfectly normal in all three services, particularly among the Officer Class, for children to be sent to boarding school at the first opportunity. I was no different.

My Father selected the school and settled on what, for me, was a particularly good choice. I attended Moyes Court School at Ringwood in Hampshire. It did not take me too long to adjust to the change in circumstances and make new friends. I was not forgotten by my parents either unlike some. They would visit me often usually about once a month to make sure that I was OK and was progressing as I should.

I never really knew what my parents wished for me in later life as it soon became apparent that whatever I did it would not be academically based. It was not the case that I was thick or lacked intelligence. I did all my classes as required and passed whatever test was set before me. I just had no interest in that kind of life. Working indoors as an Accountant or IT Specialist just was not my cup of tea. I preferred the big outdoors lifestyle.

In that respect I was very lucky in that the school was very sports orientated. I was given ample opportunity to try my hand at whatever tickled my fancy. I tried Tennis but discarded that as having a short career life plus I did not think I would ever win Wimbledon. Golf went the same way for the same reasons although I did carry on playing as a hobby. The track events held no appeal for me whatsoever. I just could not see myself completing a couple of million laps of a track just to win a Gold Medal with little or no monetary reward.

My Dad did his very best to keep me on a Rugby Field {Union of course} but the idea of spending six days out of every seven lying on a treatment table having a host of bruises treated did not meet my idea of a sport.

Hockey was dismissed as nothing more than a bunch of hooligans armed with sticks trying to knock seven bells out of each other on a weekly basis.

I did like football though.

[JimT]

Boarding School.

Luckily for me the school credited football with as much importance as other establishments afforded Rugby. We were blessed with some excellent training, match day facilities, and participated fully in local different age related league and cup competitions. We also had some pretty good coaches who were supplemented by the occasional visiting professional coach from local clubs. I learned a lot from those guys from Yeovil, Exeter and Southampton and will always appreciate the efforts they made to improve my game.

Although we never actually discussed it, I always appreciated the fact that my Rugby loving father allowed me to play and learn about football at the school. At the time, I suppose he still saw me as a young impressionable kid and he might even have hoped that I would grow out of it.

That was never going to happen.

It did not take too long for my coaches to perceive that I had a natural talent for the game and that I was more than willing to learn more. I attended every training session I could, even those that were way above and beyond the call of duty.

I was careful though not to neglect my studies in non-sporting subjects. If I was to carry on learning about football, my parents had to be happy. The only way I knew to keep them happy was to turn in respectable, not necessarily spectacular, exam results. This balance I managed with ease.

As I grew older, my physical attributes developed quite nicely thank you. I had lots of pace and stamina and, as I grew, the strength started to develop as well.

By now I was well in the sights of the visiting coaches and many was the time when I was dragged off to participate in one of whichever club’s junior games. Most such games were a definite step up in class for me but I managed to give a good account of myself every time.

By the time I was fourteen although I was not the finished article, I was well on my way to being so. All I really needed was experience at higher levels. By then I was settled as a right or central midfielder and could handle both positions with ease. My skill levels meant that I could deliver accurate free kicks from range, put in pinpoint crosses and corners, all held together with an excellent passing ability.

The main feature of my game was to practically make the ball talk with my dribbling skills. Many was the defender who was left wallowing in my wake as I progressed up the field with the ball at my feet. My football brain was second to none and I could ‘see’ things before they developed and adjust my pass accordingly. I was not goal shy either and possessed a vicious shot that many a player regretted stopping with his body.

Although I was not aware of it at the time many was the discussion held by the school’s coaches and the professionals. I would be fifteen in a few weeks and the pro’s wanted to approach my parents with a view to me signing a schoolboy contract with whichever club. Although they were not adverse to the idea, the school staff suggested that they should make the initial approach. Whereas the professionals could only talk football, the school felt that an approach by them covering the whole of my education might be more successful.

In the end the school won the argument and, at the next Parents Day my Mother and Father were seated with the Principal, a couple of Masters and a solitary Senior Coach. Whoever selected that representation of the school certainly got the balance right as far as my parents were concerned. The emphasis seemed to be on academic subjects but, in reality, the sole purpose was to get my parents to agree to me signing a schoolboy contract.

The school first concentrated of my academic achievements and prospects. They were confident that I would attain enough A Levels to be able to apply to any University in the country should that be the chosen path.

This pleased my Mother no end who obviously saw the apple of her eye as the world’s leading expert in whatever.

My Father was a bit more of a realist and brought up my obvious preference for the outdoor life. “I have no objections to that. It is just a pity that he selected the wrong sport.” Dad was still a massive Rugby fan.

Apparently, at this point my coach stepped into the discussion. Without being too over enthusiastic, he painted a glowing picture of my football skills and the need to allow me to move up the experience ladder. “Your boy has a talent Mr Thomson and that should not be allowed to go to waste. He is the best football player I have seen through this school in the past fifteen years.”

Although she did not object, my Mother saw her dreams shatter before her eyes when my Father asked for the school’s recommendation.

Needless to say that was that I sign a contract with a local club.

Eventually my Father agreed but imposed one or two conditions.

1. Whichever club I joined they had to agree that I stayed at the school until I was eighteen and had completed my education including A Level Examinations.

2. No further contract, nor any extension, would be contemplated until I had finished school

3. I would only be allowed to travel with the club if it was during a recognised school holiday. Nothing would be allowed to interfere with my education.

My Masters and Coach went to great lengths to explain that such restrictions could severely hamper negotiations with interested clubs. The clubs would be investing a serious amount of time and money developing my skills and most would be reluctant to do so without any kind of guarantee that I would remain with them after the end of the initial contract.

My Father however would not budge one inch. Take it or leave it seemed to be the order of the day. He also stressed that, although not a great football fan, he did have a fair idea of the better clubs in the area. “I will not sign my son up with some second class outfit barely above the standard of a local pub team.”

That settled the whole thing. My Mother and Father were content, if not overly happy, and the school knew exactly what they had to do.

As for me all I did was carry on playing to the best of my ability. I did notice that a few of the visiting coaches seemed to be around a bit more than usual. Abnormally they seemed to be accompanied more often than not. Not one of them spoke to me though.

Throughout this whole period, I was not aware that any discussions had taken place regarding my future. As was the way of such things in those days the future of the child would be decided by adults.

The adults did a pretty good job as I ended up at Southampton.

[JimT]

Southampton.

I am sure that like most young kids during their first days at their first job I looked just as lost as anybody did. It was not just the standard of the football that was above me, the training was also the most intensive that I had ever done. I was not about to give up though and I kept my weary body commuting to and from Ringwood and Southampton.

It took about three weeks but slowly and surely the aches and pains gave way to a superior fitness and the footballer inside me took over and I began to do myself justice during games.

Then followed the hardest three years in work terms of my young life so far. I tried to take in everything that the coaches told me and continually practised various skills/moves until I had them off perfect.

At the same time, I was really studying hard at school. My parents had displayed great faith in me and I did not want to let them down. My aim was an A Level pass in as many subjects as possible.

Of the two disciplines, by far the most enjoyable was the football. In that first year, I improved in leaps and bounds and my claims for a Reserve Team spot were becoming hard to resist. Towards the end of the season I actually made their bench on a few occasions without actually getting on the field if play.

Of great help to me were the players I had around me. You can’t fail to learn when playing alongside, even in a practise game, the likes of Alan Ball, Mick Channon, David Armstrong, and, one year after I joined Kevin Keegan.

Being fellow midfielders Ball and Armstrong were particularly influential. Even although the sun might be setting on their careers, nothing could detract from the knowledge they had in their heads. A knowledge that they were both happy to share with me.

The second season I was moved up to the Reserve Squad permanently and, although mainly starting on the bench, I actually got a few games in. All the time I was benefiting from the teachings of my coaches and mentors and I slowly grew in confidence as my ability improved. I actually started the last six home games of the season and did well picking up one Man of the Match and two goals in the process. Everybody at the club seemed satisfied with the progress I was making.

The only area of my game that was below par was my tackling, which was best described as poor. Jimmy Case who joined us from Brighton was a big help in this area and the improvement under his tuition was tremendous.

The third season, and final year of my schoolboy contract with Southampton, the Manager, Lawrie McMenemy put me on the First Team list. I was delighted particularly when Alan Ball said I thoroughly deserved it.

I started on the bench in all our Pre-Season Friendly games and got on the pitch in every game for at least 20 minutes. Once again, I had to handle a tremendous jump in the class of football being played and, as before, this took time. By the last two games, I thought I was slotting in well and, more importantly, so did everybody else.

I did not expect to start after the friendly games were over and that was the way it turned out. At that time, Southampton had a pretty good team, particularly in the midfield, and it would be hard for me to break into that group.

Come the third game, at home to Derby County, I was given a starting berth at right midfield. Already that season Derby were visibly struggling and The Boss obviously thought I would benefit from the comparatively easy ride.

It took me a good half hour to get into the game but once settled I made my contribution. During half time, the Boss drew me aside and told me to turn the screw on the left of their team.

This I proceeded to do and I became a real thorn in there side by keeping our forwards well supplied with the ball.

By now, I was thoroughly enjoying myself particularly as I was playing well and the fans began to encourage me.

With about ten minutes to go we were 2-0 to the good and Derby had virtually given up when I collected the ball on the right about ten yards inside our half. I could see my opposite number hurtling towards me I did not think that he was after the ball. I had the guy on toast all day and I reckoned that he thought it was vengeance time. I trapped and held the ball between both feet and, as he lunged at me, I jumped up bringing my knees up to my stomach still carrying the ball. He went sliding through the gap beneath my feet ending up behind me. When my feet hit the deck, I turned to him lying all over the pitch and gave him a cheeky wave goodbye as I headed towards the half way line.

Our fans loved it but Derby’s were not all that impressed.

Looking up I saw their keeper was well out of his area. I fired off a reasonably high lob over his head as he scrambled backwards. The ball cleared him and dropped straight into the net.

Our fans and players went absolutely wild. I had seen Pele attempt such a shot but failed and I had done it!

I stood still, feet apart, with my arms held aloft like a V and drank in the adulation of the fans and my teammates.

That goal was on TV for days after the event and it still appears to this very day.

The only down side was a day later when Mr McMenemy told me never to take the Mickey out of a fellow professional again. I could see his point and got him to wire off an apology to Derby County. I never waved at another player on the field again.

If I had expected to start the next home game, I was disappointed. In fact, it was a good few weeks before I got my chance again. I turned in another good display and from then on, I started regularly every time we were at home.

The Southampton fans soon recognised my talents and I was fast becoming a crowd favourite. In the latter half of that season, I was selected to appear for the English Under 21 squad and I actually played a few games. This was a totally different experience for me and another leap forward in skill levels. With the Under 21 Squad I was not a shining star, I was a jewel in a glorious crown as we hammered most of the teams we played.

Towards the end of that season, I, along with a couple of other Under 21 players, was selected for the full England Squad. None of us even made the bench that season but the experience of training with a bunch of household names was invaluable.

With the coming of my eighteenth birthday, my contract at Southampton expired. There was some consternation in the ranks when I would not sign a new deal immediately. Privately I assured Mr McMenemy that I would sign just as soon as my A Level results were published which was not before July that year. He understood perfectly that I was only keeping my word to my Father by not signing any new deals while I still had school commitments.

In due course, the results were announced and I was particularly pleased to have gained at least a B Pass in every subject. Leaving Moyes Court School for the last time I headed for home with a satchel full of A Level Certificates that would gain me entry into any University in the country should that be my wish.

Mum was particularly pleased and insisted that they all be framed and hung in my room.

By now my Dad was a Wing Commander and was being tipped for high office in due time, and although he did not get quite as carried away with my success as Mum I knew that he was proud of me. Although I was only at home for a few days Dad and I managed a couple of rounds of golf together along with some service friends of his. Both games went to the last hole with the honours ending up even.

For the first time I enjoyed being a man in the company of men. I did a lot of growing up in those few days.

Eventually I returned to Southampton and went to see Mr McMenemy. He was pleased to see me back and even more so when I signed a new contract with them for the next three years. The Boss was honest enough to admit that the deal on the table ‘was pretty standard’ and I might have got a slight improvement had I employed an agent.

He offered to introduce me to an agency, which duly happened, and I ended up being looked after by an employee of them called Kay Robertson. The fact that she was a woman did not bother me as, at that time, I figured agents to be nothing but number crunchers and either sex could do that. We never met at that time as all our business could be carried out by letter.

With my new contract signed and my affairs being looked after properly Mr McMenemy went on to tell me that I was now a permanent member of the First Team Squad and I could expect to start most games in the upcoming season.

“Don’t expect to start every game Jim. You are still a growing lad and we need to give the body time to catch up, but you will certainly feature in most of my teams.”

He was as good as his word. The one thing he did not say probably because it was outside his control was my continuing to be selected for every England Squad that year.

Although a different style of Manager Bobby Robson seemed to be just as intent on bringing me on gently in my International career, at least as much as McMenemy was in my club career.

By the end of that season, I considered myself to be a regular England International and began to look forward to the World Cup in Mexico next season.

Before that preoccupied me Mr McMenemy sent for me at the end of that season saying that several clubs were making enquiries about me. While he was more than happy to keep me at Southampton, he believed that I had advanced about as far as I could there and that maybe I should consider moving on to a larger club with hopefully better players on their books. I believed then, and still do, that his intentions were honourable and that money was never a consideration.

I said I would talk it over with my agent and get back to him in a couple of days.

In the event, it took about a week. I rang the Agency and, after a few ‘Who?’ and ‘Never heard of her’ I finally tracked down Kay Robertson.

I had to introduce myself as we had only ever spoken once and that had been over a year ago. Eventually we established who was who and I explained Mr McMenemy’s suggestion.

“I have never dealt directly with your manager but believe him to be an honest man. I believe him to have your interests at heart and, unlike some, is not being prompted by money. I will ring him today and get the details of the enquiring clubs and their offers, if any.”

She suggested that we get together anytime after today to discuss the possible move in detail and what I could expect from a new contract. We arranged to meet in the De Vere Grand Harbour Hotel in Central Southampton for tomorrow lunch.

My first reaction to Kay Robertson was one of total surprise. Not only was she an attractive sexy looking girl she was barely a couple of years older than I was. I decided quickly that this was no barrier to us conducting business together.

As we lunched in the Dining Room, the conversation revolved around purely personal issues as she got to know me better. Eventually we adjourned to the Lounge for coffee and found a quiet corner.

“I have to be honest with you here Jim. You have no contract with either me or the agency I currently work for. Virtually all we have ever done is to exchange phone numbers in the event that one ever required the services of the other. Should you decide to use my or our services then all that will change and you will be contracted to whoever you decide should act on your behalf.”

“Do I have a choice then?”

“Of course you do. You can sign with the agency, which, although they are very good, has the drawback of being able to change your contact at will. If you sign with me then you are stuck with me until the contract is terminated.”

“What are the terms of each deal?”

She ran through the main terms of each contract and, to be honest, there was little to choose between each. I asked her what the reaction of the agency would be if I signed with her and not them.

“They will take either a straight cash settlement figure or a percentage of your earnings over an agreed period. That bill is mine to deal with. You will not be involved at all. Your responsibilities to me will be a percentage of all your cash earnings be they in the form of a weekly wage or bonus payment or appearance money. Non-cash items supplied by the club or anybody else are excluded from this. For instance if your new club gives you a car then that is it. End of story. I do not look at the cash value of the vehicle and charge you.”

I asked for time to think it over. I never was one for rushing into things. She readily agreed saying that she would be booked into the Hotel ‘for a few days’ and could meet me at any time.

Until I decided who my representative was, she could not discuss any deals with any club.

It took me two days to decide.

[tenthreeleader]

Jim, I've been remiss in not bumping this effort as well. I get a fair amount of praise from people on the forum for the detail in my stories but I need to tell you this - when I read your work, I often learn something, such as in this post. Truly well done.

[JimT]

Negotiations.

We arranged to meet a couple of days later at the same Hotel but this time in the evening for Dinner. Although I never thought about it, I was glad that my upbringing and schooling had taught me how to behave at a dinner table. Some of my fellow players would be happy to tuck in with a spoon for the liquids and their fingers for everything else – all smothered in ketchup of course. I also knew which form of dress was appropriate for whichever occasion. At our first meeting, I had appeared in my 'smart casual’ guise, on this dinner date I was fully booted and suited.

I announced myself at Reception and waited until she appeared. This presented an opportunity for a few fans to besiege me for an autograph, which I was happy to supply.

I had completed the demands for my signature when I looked up and saw Kay patiently waiting for me.

“There are not that many footballers that I know Jim that would take the time to do that while waiting for their date.”

“Well I figure that if they are willing to part with their hard earned cash to watch me play on a Saturday, then the least I can do is acknowledge them off the field.”

She nodded her approval.

The Dinner was very good and the conversation restricted to social stuff pretty much as before. Over this meal, Kay introduced me to Red Wine, an Italian Vintage called Valpolicella in particular. Although I was no drinker, I thoroughly enjoyed it noting the label to get some for myself.

Kay was amused at my reaction and interest in the wine. “It has been all football with you Jim, you have led a sheltered life.”

I decided that she was not making fun of me. “Kay I have just turned 20 years old, and, if I look after myself, I have about fifteen years left to play before Old Father Time catches up with me. Then I can catch up with the wine, women and song lifestyle if that is what I want.”

“Jim you have an old head on some very young shoulders. I like that.”

With Dinner over Kay led me to a Ground Floor Conference Room, which must have been one of the smaller ones available. Apart from her laptop and brief case on a table, the place had been set up comfortably for two people with Coffee and Mints following us through the door.

While Kay set up her laptop and retrieved some papers from her brief case, I poured the Coffee before sitting down opposite her at the small conference table.

“Thank you Jim. Now I need to know who you would like to deal with your affairs?”

“I think you Kay. The idea of not really knowing who I am dealing with at the whim of the Agency does not really appeal. In a relationship like this trust is very important and I can’t see me warming to whoever walks through the door. There would be bound to be someone I did not take too, and that could be fatal.”

As I spoke, Kay returned some of the papers to her brief case then switched on her laptop.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I doubt that either of us will let the other down.

Now to business. My fee for acting on your behalf is 10% of all cash earnings that I negotiate for you but only in relation to your football activities. For instance, should your Father end up as the big white chief of the Royal Air Force and someone wants to interview you about him then, while I am happy to negotiate the fees for this, I will not take my percentage. That is classed as outside the realms of you being a football player. Similarly, whether as part of a football contract or not, inanimate objects such as cars, accommodation, insurance policies are not classed by me as a cash payment, therefore do not attract any fee. I am happy however to negotiate such things into any deal.

The contract between us has no fixed term – it is open-ended and can be terminated by either party at will. Should I terminate the deal then that is it, everything stops at that point and we owe each other nothing. Alternatively if you terminate the deal then I will be due, as a single lump sum payment, the total amount of fees due on your current football deal.”

As she was speaking I listened intently making notes where I considered a point she was making to be important.

“Well Jim, what do you think?”

“As you know Kay I take time over important decisions. I’d like some time now please.”

When I filtered what she had said through my mind, there really was not a lot to think about, she certainly wasn’t grabbing every penny she could lay her hands on. The inanimate objects could just as easily have been included particularly as she was perfectly willing to include such items in any deal.

I needed to clear my head so I reached for the phone and rang home.

Hello Dad.

No, no problem, just a bit of business I need to take care of first.

Over the weekend if not Monday. How is Mum?

Oh! I had forgotten about that. She is still addicted then?

What do the powers that be have in store for you?

Well congratulations. Group Captain eh! Then what?

Will Mum be going with you?

Don’t forget to let me know.

OK cheers Dad.

I hung up and continued with my thoughts initially dwelling on my family then reverting to football and my immediate problem.

“OK Kay. Where do I sign?”

Kay reached for the phone and asked for a waiter to come in.

When he arrived, she asked him to witness our signatures on a document. This he was happy to do. He was even happier when he left with a Twenty-Pound note in his fist for his trouble.

With all the formalities complete, it was time to have a look at the interested clubs.

“Actually Jim there are quite a few but really only three worth looking at unless you want to drop down a Division or two. I doubt that you would want to do that and it is not a course I would recommend anyway.”

“Not with a budding International career at stake Kay.”

“Precisely. The three clubs are Charlton, Leicester and Manchester City. Not the greatest in the world but a definite leg up from Southampton in terms of the future. All three are rebuilding their squads slowly but surely and see you as a key member of their midfield. As I said before I am no football expert – I will be, but not just yet. The only club that rings any bells with me is the Manchester one.”

“You might be thinking of the other one, Manchester United, they are a lot more famous than City. More famous than most I would say.

“When it comes to football knowledge Jim it appears that you have a good start on me. I’ll have to do some studying.”

“While I’m concentrating on the football you could be checking out contracts or whatever.”

We both smiled at each other. I think we are going to get on together.

“What I do know Jim is that none of those three clubs, or any other for that matter, have actually made an offer to Southampton. Each has submitted what they call an enquiry and Southampton have granted permission for all of them to discuss a contract with you. After that, Southampton will listen to offers for your services. I know that this sounds like a ‘wrong way round’ transfer but I assure you it is an accepted practice.”

I’ll take your word for that.”

“What I propose to do is to call each club tomorrow and listen to what they are prepared to offer. I will need the details of your current contract. In the meantime, I want you to talk to friends or football veterans’ whose opinion you respect and find out which club they think would be best for you. We can get together again here tomorrow evening and compare notes.”

That was the way it was left. I spent the following day with my ear either glued to the telephone or listening to the opinions of people I respect in the game. I assumed that Kay was just as busy talking to Chairmen.

When we got together that evening, we decided to sit in the Bar and drink Valpolicella, my new favourite drink.

“Well Jim how did your day go? Any progress with which club would be best for you?

“Most people were of the opinion that all three clubs would probably struggle in the top division this year. Long term most felt that City would be the first to recover and start to get a decent squad together. Having said that nobody actually recommended any of the three clubs that are interested. How did you get on?”

“Quite well actually. The best offer by far is from Manchester City and I think I could even push them for a bit more once they are actually talking to Southampton. I have already rung Mr McMenemy and I believe he is probably taking to their Chairman as we speak.”

“So what is the deal?”

“Two year contract at £3300 per week plus an all expense paid company car with a single occupancy clubhouse thrown in, and that would include a valet service. I believe I could push the weekly wage up slightly and get some insurance and bonus payments thrown in, but the important thing is that it is only two years. If you do well they will be back at the table in about a year when we can go for some real money.”

I was impressed. It certainly knocked the stuffing out of my current £550 per week wage.

There was nothing else we could do until the clubs agreed a deal.

Mr McMenemy rang Kay on the Saturday having completed a deal with City. Kay then spoke to their Chairman again and negotiated a further £300 per week wage increase plus the inclusion of a Comprehensive Health and Accident Policy and some nominal bonus payments for progression in competitions that the club entered.

On the Monday, the newspapers were full of my £3.5M transfer to Manchester City and I was free to return home for the holiday.

By then I had also lost my virginity.

[JimT]

10 - 3. Praise indeed from an appreciated source.

As you know my story is as much about life as football. Both can be a very complicated business.

I often feel that I get too bogged down in the detail of something but find that the 'throw away' line in 2009 can often lead to a major crisis or event in 2011. Detail can be an imortant part of any story.

Once again - thanks for the bump.

[JimT]

Manchester City.

Joining City as I did at the beginning of the 1985-86 season I had the World Cup in Mexico to look forward to, all I had to do was maintain the standard of my play. I obviously managed this as I was selected for the England Squad virtually from Day One and it was never even suggested that I be replaced with anybody.

The Cup itself was a great disappointment to me. I strained a thigh muscle in training just before our Quarter Final match against Germany. I suppose that was a bit of a blessing in disguise as I was never associated with that team nor the result. How we managed to lose the game I will never know. At 2-0 up and in complete control of the game at the start of the second half nobody could see us losing. Somehow, we managed that difficult feat. I was gutted.

It did not take me long to realise that City were a mediocre team and badly needed an injection of quality. That was not my department though so all I could do was play to the best of my ability. It was not long before the fans were well and truly won over and I was well established as their favourite player and the star of the side.

With the benefit of hindsight, I could not have picked a worst time to join the club. Billy McNeill was Manager when I joined and he was the first of thirteen managers I served under over the next fifteen years. To say that City was a troubled club at the time would be an understatement. During this traumatic spell for the club, as well as going through managers like a hot knife through butter, the club also had to contend with the Formation of the Premier League and several changes of Chairman.

It was hardly surprising that, under those conditions, my haul of medals and trophy’s was exactly nil. In spite of this and several approaches by other clubs, it never occurred to me to move on. I was very happy at the club and the fans loved me and I them. The furthest thing from my mind was a change of club.

None of this affected my football though and I just got better and better confirming my status and importance to the club. The club was always keen to update my contract as and when it became due and I was happy to extend.

Kay’s expertise grew with every passing year as she gradually built up her own stable of clients and began to understand the ways of the football world a bit better and to establish her own contacts. Eventually she left the Agency and became her own boss.

Our relationship continued to flourish although there was never any question of marriage as we were both content with the pure sexual relationship. She taught me everything I knew in that area and, even if she had other men she saw during her travels, I never created a fuss.

Although I had other women share my bed on occasion none of them set any bells ringing. I was not promiscuous by any standards, I was just doing what every young man in the world enjoyed doing.

Eventually Bobby Robson gave way to Graham Taylor as England Manager and my supply of England caps dried up, as I was never selected again. Many was the pundit who disagreed with this decision but they did not select the team, Taylor did.

Although I thought his nickname of Turnip Head to be particularly appropriate I bore him no grudge over my non-selection. In fact, I grudgingly had to admire the man as, irrespective of results, he stood by and played the hands that he himself had dealt.

My International career saw me grab a total of 56 caps, scoring 33 goals in the process. Not a record-breaking haul by any standards but I was proud of it.

When Kevin Keegan renewed our Southampton days by joining City as Manager at the first opportunity he offered me a contract renewal as Player/Youth Coach which, after due consideration I accepted. That saw me start to study for my Coaching Certificates and, after two years, I was as qualified as I ever would be as a Coach and Manager.

I still had no desire to leave City and when Keegan, as one of his last acts as Manager, offered me a contract as a Youth Coach at the club I readily agreed. I was well content in my role at the club and respected for my efforts on the training field. I had a good eye for young developing talent and that skill was valued and recognised by my various superiors. My worth to the club was never questioned and I had a job for life if I wanted it.

From then on I settled down into what I thought would be my sole occupation for the rest of my working life.

How wrong can you be?

[Spav]

Jim, your work provides an engrossing and absorbing counterpoint to the many "I got a call from the Chairman offering me the job at Arsenal - here's my results" type of stories found here. Like tenthreeleader, I too appreciate the detail and effort that goes into your work.

[JimT]

The Awakening.

The beginning of the end of a long period in the doldrums probably began for Manchester City when we moved at the end of the 2002/03 season from Maine Road to the 48,000 capacity state of the art City of Manchester Stadium. The move seemed to instil a new awareness of the club and its potential capabilities within the players. Somehow or other we were no longer a sleeping giant more of a slumbering one.

The awakening process progressed even further in 2007 with the ownership of the club being acquired by ex-Thai Prime Minister Dr. Thaksin Shinawatra at a cost of several million pounds. In addition to providing some much needed stability to the Boardroom Shinawatra promised that funds would be made available to the then Manager Stuart Pearce for the purchase of good players.

This heralded a period of new investment in the club playing staff, which had been severely lacking for some time. Up until the Shinawatra takeover, the club’s annual investment in players had been less than that of many Championship sides and that, for a club like Manchester City was totally unacceptable.

After a while, the new owner let it be known internally that he intended injecting some proven talent into the Management of the club with Stuart Pearce being the first to enter into redundancy negotiations.

In February 2007, Shinawatra announced that Stuart Pearce would be leaving the club at the end of his current contract in June 2007. I felt that such an announcement at that time to be in error. The news did nothing to steady the ship at all. Our results remained poor and the more rebellious players actually openly ignored the Manager and his instructions.

The effect upon the majority of the staff was just as calamitous. Instead of concentrating on doing their jobs and working with the players, the majority were very nervous about their jobs and the identity of the new manager. A few of them had genuine cause to be worried.

In June Stuart left the club along with a fair few of his coaching staff. I was one of the few retained and was offered a new contract by the club. A contract I was more than happy to sign.

He following month Shinawatra announced the appointment of former England manager Sven-Göran Eriksson as the clubs new manager. He wasted no time in appointing his own handpicked team into the backroom staff at the club. All the usual suspects, headed by Tord Grip, put in an appearance.

Sven was quick to assure me that my position as Youth Coach was safe and secure during his watch, a fact I appreciated.

During that close season, he applied his knowledge of European Football and brought in about half a dozen union citizens, some from former Eastern Bloc countries to bolster the team. They all settled in pretty quickly and, at the beginning of that season began to produce some decent results on the pitch.

At the end of the season in May 2008, we were in eighth position, our highest finish for years. I thought that with our new players having a successful season under their belt, they could improve the following year and, with a couple of new additions, the team should be able to push for a European spot.

Unfortunately, that was not to be.

Eriksson’s second season started quietly particularly as he made no signings during the close season. By November, we were struggling to stay out of the relegation zone and a lot of the sparkle had left those players signed last year.

A series of five buys during the January transfer window reeked more of panic buying than it did of any planned progression of the team, particularly when none of the players lived up to their billing.

Just after Christmas Sven had to go home with flu like symptoms and his good friend and long time side kick Tord Grip took over the reins. He had as much luck as Eriksson had and the threat of relegation really began to hover over our heads.

Eriksson’s flu turned into pneumonia and the man became seriously ill. He was not expected to return anytime soon. Grip carried on pretty much as before with the same results.

Towards the end of January Sven was moved from his home to Hospital, where he stayed alive, just, in an oxygen tent, on heavy doses of various drugs. Given the severity of the illness, and his age, 61 years old, there was a lot of speculation as to whether he would survive or not. In any case, he was not expected back at the helm anytime soon.

Shinawatra had to take some action. His first choice skipper was out of the frame in hospital and his ‘temporary’ stand in just was not doing the business. A vision of the millions of pounds invested in the club going down the plughole was fast becoming a reality.

I found out weeks later that he made a special visit to Sven in hospital to discuss the problem in detail but he found that the Swede could barely talk, and anything that was coming out made little sense.

From that fruitless hospital visit, Shinawatra called Sven’s long time partner Nancy Dell Olio at their home to arrange a visit there for 4th February 2009.

I was never a party to the details of that discussion and I never wanted to be. It must have been very difficult for them both.

The results of Shinawatra’s thoughts and that conversation soon became clear.

[JimT]

Spav. Thanks for the appreciation. It all helps to keep me going.

If I could just get the font size correct I would be a happy man.

[JimT]

A Chat.

Monday 23rd February 2009 is a day that will live long in my memory.

By now, I was 43 years old, 44 in May, and I was still very happy with my life in general and my coaching job at City in particular.

My father had retired from the RAF having reached the dizzy heights of Air Commodore, a title that he particularly relished. Now free of all work commitments and financially comfortable he spent most of his time on the golf course and taking in the odd rugby game.

Mother seemed happy enough with her lot just pottering about in the gardens at home and drinking tea with friends most afternoons.

Everything in the Thomson households seemed to be perfect.

By now, I had given up the clubhouse, but retaining the valet service, and had purchased a large, two bed roomed flat close to the ground. Why I had opted for the second bedroom I will never know because I had never contemplated marriage, let alone children. Perhaps I just thought I needed a junk room.

Kay was still, to all intents and purposes, my one steady girl friend and neither of us could see that situation changing in the future. By now, she was a fully registered football agent with a pretty good stable of clients and was doing very well financially thank you very much. Her clientele were mainly on the UK Mainland but in the past couple of years or so, she had picked up a few continental players, mainly in France and Germany.

With her clients scattered in such diverse locations a lot of her time was spent travelling just moving from hotel to hotel. She never really saw the need for a fixed base and choosing a good location would have been difficult anyway.

All this obviously curtailed the amount of time that we were able to spend together but I figured that, if that was the only fly in the ointment, then we were lucky. I think Kay thought the same.

Anyway, I digress, back to my ‘significant’ day.

Initially it was just like any other day in my working life. I crawled out of bed, got the percolator up and running, went to the loo, and then washed shaved and showered. So far nothing unusual.

Standing in the kitchen in fresh shorts pouring the fresh brew down my throat, I debated whether to have a cooked breakfast or not. Eventually I decided upon a couple of rounds of toast and marmalade.

Dumping the dishes etc. into the sink, the valet service was due later today; I donned a clean tracksuit and trainers. Depositing my wallet in my pocket, I collected my keys and carrying my football boots headed for the car park.

My one obsession in life apart from football was fast cars and, as my earnings increased, the cars got progressively faster and faster. Although never the fastest production car on the planet when I bought my first Porsche, I was hooked. Every car since then had to be a Porsche and the latest in the line currently parked in my spot was a 911 Turbo Cabriolet capable, according to Porsche, of 193 mph. The fastest I had driven this one was around about 180 mph on a German holiday. That was fast enough for me.

Kay, my ever so friendly football agent, loved it.

About ten minutes drive later, at a legal pace, I was parked outside Manchester City’s Training Ground and, swapping my trainers for the boots, headed for the training pitches. As usual at this hour, I virtually had the place to myself with only two or three players running circuits. Everybody else, including the other staff, would be inside the complex getting changed.

I strolled over to the designated Under 18 Training Area and started to work through my normal warm up exercises.

About five minutes into the routine, I was stopped by a voice behind me.

“Mr Thomson.”

Turning I found myself face to face with a soberly dressed Mr Shinawatra, the Club Chairman.

“Good Morning Mr Shinawatra. What can I do for you?”

“For a start Mr Thomson you can allow me to call you Jim. I believe that to be your favourite term of address?”

“Correct Mr Chairman; unless you happen to be a young trainee then things are a bit more formal.”

He smiled at my initial means of establishing my authority.

“Would you accompany me please Jim?”

So saying he turned and walked slowly towards the running track surrounding the pitch with me at his side. Once on the track he continued to walk round it. We had completed about quarter of a lap before he spoke again.

“Jim, I used to be a politician. There are some who would say I still am but I do not give that opinion any credit. Most people describe politicians as human beings who have had their knowledge and intelligence removed and the resultant spaces filled with hot air. As a politician, I plead guilty to having had to expound a lot of this hot air in order to achieve an objective.

Where is this going I thought?

“As I am no longer a politician the hot air is of no use to me and I have had to replace it with not just intelligence and knowledge, but also good powers of persuasion and the ability to see, and deal with, any impending crisis. I like to think that I have achieved that ability.”

He went silent while we completed another quarter of a lap.

“As a non-politician I do not profess to know everything about anything but I do have a good knowledge of certain things. For instance, the very fact that I was able to buy outright this wonderful football club demonstrates my ability to make money. That in itself also demonstrates a knowledge of football in that I was able to ‘see’ Manchester City as a sleeping giant just needing a prod.

I was still with him but I could not see any point so far.

“I also know a lot about women and how to keep them happy. That however is a purely personal thing and is not necessary for this discussion.”

OK so you are good in bed. So what.

“I also know an awful lot about you and so far, I like what I see.”

I did not know whether to feel flattered or embarrassed.

We carried on walking while he collected his thoughts.

“Stuart Pearce did not have the nuance to return his club to the glory years which is my one objective. He therefore had to go. I saw Sven as the saviour of the club given enough time and money and while he had a decent first season with us I was beginning to harbour some doubts even then.”

I could make a reasonable guess at where this was going now.

“Maybe if it had not been for his poor health he might have turned things around. I doubt even that now. On reflection, I think that Sven was showing signs of burn out even as I offered him a contract. Now I face a terrible dilemma.”

We completed the quarter of a lap in silence, then, he stood still for a few moments before, he began to speak again, continuing our slow walk as he did so.

“I cannot allow the club to continue as it is without a Captain to guide the ship. Tord is doing his best but even he admits that the task is beyond his capabilities.”

He had obviously discussed the problem with others before talking to me. That indicated something that had been brewing for at least a few days. This was no spur of the moment conversation.

“I cannot appoint a new leader while Sven still has control, even if in name only. I cannot sack him while he is ill. The fans, the press, everybody would crucify me if I did that. Even the players would turn on me losing faith in the club and their performances would deteriorate even further.”

Silent again until he had completed the quarter lap which this time coincided with our start point and the Entrance/Exit to the training ground.

“Jim, your car is here?”

“At the entrance.”

“Your clothes?”

“All I have in the car is a pair of trainers everything else is at home.”

“Change into your trainers and follow me then please.”

With that, we both left the Training Ground and he headed for a club limousine and waited on me changing my footwear. When done I jumped into the Porsche and followed the limo to the City of Manchester Stadium.

During the short drive, I had some serious thinking to do. I may be a lot of things to many different people but one thing I was not was a fool. I suspected that I had just been taken part way through an interview process for the job as Manager of Manchester City Football Club.

Quite how he had got to my level was a bit of a no brainer either. All of Sven’s people would resign their positions. Of that I had no doubt, leaving all the Senior Coaching positions vacant. Of the Coaches remaining I was, as far as I knew, the only one with a Full Pro Coaching Certificate. As his chances of appointing a qualified suitable outside candidate were practically nil under the present circumstances then it would have to be an in-house replacement. That left the finger pointing firmly at me.

Just exactly how he intended transferring power was a matter for him but if that involved sacking Sven then I was in for a very rough ride indeed.

Did I need that kind of hassle?

The answer was a very firm No.

[JimT]

The Approach.

Security waved me straight through at the main staff car park. Either I was expected or Shinawatra had telephoned ahead. I loitered in the main driveway while Shinawatra parked up in a bay close to the main entrance to the ground and offices.

Shinawatra waved me forward pointing to an empty bay close to his car. My theory was confirmed when I saw that he was directing me into a bay reserved for Sven Göran Eriksson, Manager, Manchester City Football Club.

He allowed me to catch up with him before resuming his somewhat sedate stroll as he headed for the Entrance accompanied by the Chauffeur.

Walking through the corridors of power alongside a man that wished everyone a very good morning accompanied by a dazzling smile was an experience I will never forget. Passing through a Secretary’s Office that seemed to have one for every day of the week also opened my eyes. Remembering his earlier remark about keeping women happy, I wondered how many were actually secretaries.

His office was something else entirely. Rather than a plush area complete with practical desk and equipment, this was a palatial living room that would have graced Buckingham Palace. I had never stood on such a lush carpet in my life before and, although I was no expert, I could read the names on the various pictures that adorned the walls. Van Gogh and Picasso were only two that I recognised, and they were not prints either.

Mentioning me to sit on one of the luxury sofas in the room, he occupied the opposite corner.

“Have you breakfasted Jim?”

“Only toast and coffee so far.”

He spoke to his driver, in presumably Thai, and he shot away to do his master’s bidding.

We sat together in silence while I gazed about me in utter amazement at the sheer luxury of my surroundings. If this was the visible benefits of wealth then roll on wealth. Even a lottery winner could not aspire to this kind of facility. This needed real money, Billions was the operative word here not Millions.

“Do not allow your surroundings to faze you Jim. They are merely the trappings required to impress fellow Chairmen and Business Men, friendly or hostile. I do not just look after Manchester City from here, I find it convenient to run most of my business interests from this fair city.”

“Some trappings,” was my only comment which appealed to his sense of humour.

Just then the Chauffeur{?} returned with a hot trolley containing every imaginable breakfast dish which he began to serve to us both.

“I asked Jim that the selection be confined to the English Breakfast. I trust it is to your liking.”

“Most definitely.”

"The only superior breakfast I know is the Scottish one but I would not expect you as an Englishman to subscribe to that point of view. You need to be neutral to make such judgements.”

Not being an International Connoisseur of breakfasts I made no comment merely contenting myself to consuming a plate full of very well cooked, and hot, goodies.

While we were eating, Shinawatra contented himself by talking about the various pictures on the walls. Filling in the blanks as it were. Every so often, he would ask a question about some small detail of my life. The fact that they were small only demonstrated that he already knew most of the big things.

He was particularly curious as to me status with fellow International Players and ex-club mates, both currently in and out of coaching/management.

It did not take me too long to realise that he was ascertaining the depth of my contacts within the game.

A very shrewd man was our Mr Shinawatra.

As the trolley and the remaining food was wheeled out leaving behind some fresh coffee he began to speak again taking up where he had left off at the Training Ground.

“Tell me Jim, speaking hypothetically, if I had appointed you as the Manager and not Sven what would you have done.”

“Virtually the same as he did Chairman. The club badly needed new blood in the form of better, more committed players. I am not saying that I would have signed the same players he did. Nor am I suggesting that those players were not right for the club. I simply had never heard of them and unless my scouts happened to turn them up, I would never have been in a position to employ them. As it was, they performed adequately for the first season but they have all fallen away this term. I do not know the reason why but, if I were the Boss that is an area I would certainly be looking at.”

“Why do you think Sven went for Continental players and not the home grown variety?”

“That’s an easy one. Availability would be a high consideration, closely followed by cost. The home grown product is a very expensive commodity when compared to the Continental variety.”

“I put no restrictions on the amount he had to spend to achieve the objective.”

“I’m not suggesting that you restricted him in any way. He spent what, £40M or £50M on good continental players that initially achieved the aims of the club. Signing similar calibre British players, even if their clubs were willing to deal, would have cost £60M or £70M. That would have been the initial difference.”

He sat there for a minute or two absorbing what I had said.

“Jim, if you were in charge what would you do to turn things around?”

“There is very little, in point of fact nothing, I can do about injecting fresh blood into the club this season. We are well outside the transfer window so no matter how many millions you gave me to spend I could not get any players in here in time to do anything about our current problems. It is also far too late to set up any decent loan deals. Next season would be a different story but our priority at the moment has to be remaining in the Premier Division. All I could try to do would be to motivate the players afresh, get them to play to their full potential, and tinker with our tactics a bit. Please note I did say try. There is no guarantee that I would be successful.”

My somewhat negative response got him thinking again.

The silence lasted a bit longer this time.

I just sat there admiring the view. The ball was firmly in his court all I could do would be to respond to any proposition he felt he had to make. I figured that my somewhat pessimistic response might have blown any chance I had of securing the position. Foremost in my mind though was the problem of Sven. He would have to deal with him first and that was not going to be easy.

He seemed to make his mind up.

“Jim, if I had a clear vacancy and I offered you the job of Manager at Manchester City Football Club would you accept subject to an agreed contract being drawn up.”

“The short answer Mr Chairman is yes. In reality, the answer is a bit more complicated than that. Sven would have to be completely out of the picture and I would not be a party to his removal. I will not take the job on the back of somebody else’s misfortune. How you achieve the clear vacancy is not my concern but it must be clearly seen as an act decided by you and the Board. I will not be involved at all. It is one thing for you to risk being reviled by all and sundry but for me to be seen in that same light would make my position untenable before I had even entered the office.”

“I understand perfectly Jim. I have the beginnings of an idea as to how it might work but I will need time to discuss the legalities with our lawyers and also get the Board to agree with my plan.”

Now what had he dreamed up?

“I have already told Tord that you will not be available today so there is no need to worry on that count. What I want you to do is to leave here now, go home and change into respectable clothing, then return to this office at One o’clock this afternoon. By then I should have some news for you.”

At that, we shook hands and I did exactly as he had asked. I went home.

[JimT]

Hidden Clauses.

I was home in less than fifteen minutes. The lady from the Valet Service was there. I had forgotten about that. I told her just to carry on as though I was not there and I would try to stay out of her way. I establish that she had not yet cleaned the Bathroom so I told her to hang on until after I had another shower which would happen once I got some coffee down my throat.

Showered, partly changed and complete with coffee I sat in the lounge and called Kay on her mobile.

“Hello Kay, its Jim.”

“Hello dear, and to what do I owe this privilege as if I didn’t know?”

“Well for once you would be wrong, know it all.”

I then filled in all the details of this morning’s events ending with my appointment back at the factory.

“It sounds to me as though you could do with your favourite agent by your side.”

“While that may be true, unless you can get your lovely silk clad backside to me by one then you’re about as much good to me as two tons of sugar in a diabetic centre.”

“Don’t be so cruel Jim. I’m in Newcastle so getting there by one is out of the question but if you can get what’s his name to set up a conference call to include my mobile at least we can all talk together.”

“I guess I’ll have to settle for that then. His name is Shinawatra, and don’t you forget it.”

“Now would I? In the meantime, I’ll make arrangements to travel down to you after the call so I’ll see you tonight. No need to make a hotel booking I assume.”

“If you do you had better book a double.”

“Oh you are forceful, but I love it. See you tonight – about seven or eight I would think.”

“OK, see you then.”

I was glad that Kay would be participating in the call as she could contribute more to any contract discussions than I could. Seeing her tonight would be an added bonus. It had been about three weeks since we had last shared my bed and I was getting peckish,

I had plenty of time to spare so I just sat there are mulled over my possible future. One thing for sure was that my days as a Youth Coach in Manchester, or anywhere else for that matter, were well and truly over. Once I interviewed for the Manager’s job this afternoon, whether I got it or not was immaterial. I was declaring myself as fit to Manage and that was the route I would have to stick to in future. Nobody would employ a failed manager in any capacity other then as a manager.

If I failed to secure the position this afternoon I would be instantly unemployed. That did not worry me too much as I knew that I was young enough and good enough not to be out of work for too long. Besides, I could do with a holiday and I fancied stretching the Porsche on some decent limit free roads. Perhaps Kay would fancy that as well. If not I was confident enough that I would find a willing German or Italian lady to share the adventure. My rugged good looks on a fit frame driving a top of the range sports car with a wallet full of cash and plastic would be an irresistible combination for many a young lady.

That apart I thought that by moving on I would be able to improve on my current wage of £2700 per week. The prospect of a decent holiday followed by a new challenge on higher wages really began to appeal.

The lady cleaner was still hard at it in the kitchen washing my clothes when I completed dressing and dropped off my cup.

I was fully booted and suited, back in Sven’s slot, and standing in Reception by five to one announcing that I had an appointment with Mr Shinawatra. I was ushered upstairs into his outer office where he was talking to one of his harem, err secretaries I mean, and seeing me he told me to go straight through.

He was right behind me.

I explained Kay’s request that he set up a Conference Call, which he was only too happy to oblige. Once we had established that everybody could hear the other he got straight down to business.

“Jim I have the full support of the Board on what I am about to propose to you. That means that you too enjoy that support. I have also discussed the situation with the club’s lawyers and the proposal is completely legal. There would therefore be no possibility of recriminations against you or the club by any outside party. Do you accept what I have just said?”

“Of course I do. A lie would not serve your interests at all.”

“Thank You. I am only able to offer you the position of Caretaker Manager at the club.”

Kay chipped in. “The duration of this position?”

“The contract would run from today, this afternoon to be precise, and finish on 31st May 2009.”

Kay again. “The extent of my client’s powers?”

“He will to all intents and purposes except one, have the full authority and power as though he were Manager of the club. The exception is that he will be unable to make any decision that would affect the club after 31st May 2009, e.g. new contracts, players, etc.”

Kay and I remained silent.

“The reason for the lesser position is of course, ill or not, the continuing presence of Mr Eriksson as Manager at the club. As you know, it would be impossible for me to sack him at this present time. Should he recover prior to your contract expiring he would be unable to return until after that event.”

Kay again. “What of my client’s future after 31st May 2009?”

“Towards the end of your contract, probably in May, the club would assess the ability of Mr Eriksson to return to his former position. Dependent upon that assessment and your performance as Caretaker, would determine whether you would be offered another contract or not. If that is in the affirmative the contract would be as Full Time Manager of the club and be for a term exceeding one year. If we are unable to offer you a new deal as Manager, you can, if you wish, return to your former position here with a salary increase or leave the club with our blessing and a generous gratuity. Because we would be offering you a ‘new’ position, the employment laws of this country state that we would have to advertise the job thereby setting up an open competition for the position. As the man ’in situ’ as it were, you would enjoy a considerable advantage. Do you any questions at this stage?”

“The only question I have at the moment Mr Shinawatra is at what level of my performance you would consider offering me this new deal, ignoring any other variables?”

“Retention of our current status.”

I certainly had something to think about. In a nutshell I was being offered a two month trial as Manager where success had only one measurement. We had to stay in the Premier League. We were currently in 11th spot only eight points above the drop zone and not playing at all well. We had played out of our skins on Saturday to earn a 0-0 draw against Bolton Wanderers at their place. With eleven games to go including Manchester United and Liverpool both away and Arsenal at home, any one of whom could bury us on a decent day, let alone a good one, I thought that survival, although possible, was by no means certain.

“May I continue Jim?”

I nodded yes.

“There is one more requirement Jim before we discuss details and that is the you Jim, not me, you, remove from the staff all those hired by Mr Eriksson. Without the head, they have shown themselves to be totally inept. For the same reason that I cannot sack Mr Eriksson, I cannot sack those men, but you can, and will. I will fully pay up all their contracts that will not be a problem. This proviso will not be in your contract nor will it ever be mentioned by anyone outside this room. The sackings will be your first duty as Caretaker Manager.”

Now I really had something to think about. I was being asked to take over a club with nine vacant slots in the Coaching Staff including the three most important. Assistant Manager, First Team Coach and Reserve Team Coach. I had no doubt in my ability to hire replacements but the upheaval would be tremendous.

“I think I need to talk to my agent privately Mr Shinawatra before we can progress.”

Certainly Jim, just press this button when you are ready to continue talking. In the meantime I will send in some fresh coffee.” So saying he pointed o a red button on the telephone consol then left the room.

“Did you get all of the Kay?”

“Yes Jim, but call me on this land line number using your mobile.”

“Hello Kay, this alright.”

Yes, now is there anywhere you can go that will increase the distance between your mobile and his landline?”

“There is a balcony, I will try that.”

“This OK Kay?”

“Perfect. His phone is still set to Conference and this way he is out of the loop and we can talk without being overheard.”

“You are a very sneaky woman Kay – but I like it.”

“He does not want much your Boss does he?”

“Do you really think so?”

“Jim all he is asking is that you do not sign anybody beyond May. That we will have to negotiate over as if you are to fulfil his second requirement and sack Sven’s men you will need replacements. Nobody will sign for only three months. As to the sackings I believe the majority would leave anyway with Sven out of the loop.”

“I agree Kay.”

“As to the rest of the deal I say Why Not. If nothing else, it will be a helluva ride and get you valuable management experience without any of the pressure normally associated with the job.

“Well that’s true I suppose.”

“Make no mistake Jim, you are going to need it. Taking this job will close all the Coaching doors that are currently open to you. From now on you can only be a Manager.”

“I had realised that.”

“Now get that man back in so that I can screw as much out of him as I can – unless you want to talk dirty to me that is.”

“There will be plenty of time for that tonight.”

With that comment, I hung up the mobile, returned to the office, and pressed the red button.

Now it begins I thought.

[JimT]

The Offer.

“Well Jim do you have a decision for me?”

“Not yet Chairman. Kay does have an issue we need to discuss before we reach the final details of the deal.”

“Very well Miss Robertson, fire away.”

“Thank you Mr Shinawatra.”

I was impressed – she had remembered his name.

“We have a problem with your stipulation that nobody is signed to the club beyond May of this year. By removing all the staff brought in by Mr Eriksson, we will be looking for replacements, but nobody will sign a deal lasting only three months. Any replacement will be looking for a two, if not three, year deal.”

“I can appreciate your problem Miss Robertson. Perhaps I was a bit hasty there. Staff are excluded from that stipulation.”

“Excellent. Another concern is the presentation of Mr Thomson’s appointment to the Media and Public. Given the existing circumstances that will have to done very carefully if my client is to be given a reasonable opportunity to do his job.”

“I agree wholeheartedly Miss Robertson. It is also very much in my own interests that the news is accepted in the best possible way. We intend, provided we can reach an agreement here today, to hold a Press Conference later today. During this meeting, we will emphasise the predicament that Mr Eriksson’s illness places us in and that we had to come up with a solution that not only helped the club but also gives Mr Eriksson to opportunity to return to his duties. Once that is firmly established in the minds of the press we will then discuss the procedure should Mr Eriksson be unable to return to us. A very brief summation Miss Robertson, but I hope I have assured you that we have no wish to start your client’s term of office under a load of bad feeling from the press or public.”

“Thank you Mr Shinawatra, I have no further concerns on our discussions so far.”

Shinawatra seemed pleased that he had satisfied Kay’s, and my, concerns. He shuffled the few papers on the table in front of him, and then addressed us again.

“If you will allow me I want to present the details of the package we have on offer today. I assure you that the majority is negotiable.”

“Please continue Chairman.” I said.

“The contract is for the position of Caretaker Manager of Manchester City Football Club and will terminate on 31st May 2009. The start date is today. During that period, the club will pay you £15,000 per week. At the end of the period, apart from any other considerations, the club will pay you a bonus of £50,000 should we still be in the Premier League. If we are relegated no bonus is payable. At the end of your contract, the club will pay a termination fee of £25,000. The single objective of the contract is to maintain the club’s position in the Premier League. To help you achieve this you will have access to a transfer fund of £16M and a weekly wage budget of £808,000 per week. I am at your service Miss Robertson.”

The silence from his telephone went on for so long that I was beginning to think Kay had been cut off. When she did speak and had finished I bet that Shinawatra wished she had been,

“Quite frankly Mr Shinawatra I am surprised at what a low value you put on your club remaining in the Premier League. The numbers on offer are paltry to put it mildly and, as such, are totally unacceptable to us. Do you want to hear my proposals or would you prefer to adjust them in an upward direction yourself?”

Shinawatra looked quite taken aback. Whatever he had been expecting it certainly had not been Kay’s words. To be honest neither had I.

“I think Miss Robertson it would save time if I heard your proposals first.”

“Very well. The term of the contract is acceptable but should contain the circumstances under which my client would be offered the position as Manager of the club after 31st May in particular a deadline for this to happen. This deadline date should be well in advance of 31st May. I understand the Mr Eriksson’s salary to be £58,000 per week. My client will require a similar wage. The bonus payment for still being in the Premier League should be £250,000 and the termination payment a further £250,000. Those payments will be made irrespective of any other payments, including each other. I do have further proposals but I would suggest that we settle those before moving on.”

Shinawatra was deep in thought as he considered Kay’s demands.

“I accept that the salary level should be set at £58,000 per week, but believe both bonus payments should be £175,000.”

“Mr Shinawatra should my client achieve the minimum requirement in the contract of retaining your current status then this will attract TV revenue next season of approximately £30M. Under those circumstances the bonus payments we are requesting are minimal.”

“Put like that Miss Robertson I can do nothing other than agree to your terms.”

Wow! If Kay kept this up, I could retire on 31st May.

“With regard to the contract containing a clause guaranteeing your client the position of manager after 31st May I have no choice but to refuse that request. Such a clause would be completely against the Employment Laws of this country and the club could end up in serious trouble.”

“Nice try Mr Shinawatra but I am sure you are aware that, although most positions are advertised, any replies can be completely ignored, or, even if an interview is granted, the result is a foregone conclusion.”

“I agree with your view of the procedure Miss Robertson But I still cannot agree to guarantee your client the position. All I can do is to guarantee that he will form part of a short list and be considered alongside any other applicants.”

“Mr Shinawatra earlier in our discussions today we accepted a secret condition of employment that we terminate the contracts of various employees. Surely we can come to a similar arrangement over my client’s future employment?”

“Miss Robertson it is one thing for me as Chairman of the club to make an arrangement such as you speak, but quite another for you to attempt a similar deal with me. I have already agreed to pay your client over the next eleven or twelve weeks a sum of £1M which you will attempt to increase as we progress. In return for this your client’s most important undertaking is to see the club safely through to the Premier League next season, compared to that the dismissal of a few employee’s is of no consequence.”

There really was no answer to that. I could understand Kay’s dilemma. She could persevere with the request and risk losing the whole deal or she could back down by simply accepting my inclusion on a short list.

There is a third choice Kay. Accept the deal as is, allow me to keep them in the Division, and, towards the end of the contract, hawk my services to other clubs. Would she consider that?

“In that case Mr Shinawatra we are agreed on all clauses so far.”

“Correct.”

“We will require various other clauses to be included in the contract. The club will pay all living and travelling expenses incurred by my client between now and 31st May. The club will also pay, for the same period, all living expenses arising from living at his flat in Manchester. The club will arrange for a clothing allowance of £25,000 to be immediately made available to my client. Should the club not offer my client a new contract at the end of this deal then the club will pay a tax-free allowance to my client at the rate of £500 per week, until such time as he is gainfully employed. I believe that we both know that whether he be a success or failure as your Caretaker Manager, a return to Coaching, Youth or otherwise would be impossible for Mr Thomson. Acquiring a suitable position might take some time. I can pause now or carry on, as you wish Mr Shinawatra.”

“There is no need to pause Miss Robertson I accept all your proposals and all clauses will be included in the contract at the level stipulated by you.”

“Thank you. Our final request is that the club purchase for his exclusive use a top of the range vehicle to his specification with all expenses paid as before. This vehicle will be registered in my clients name and will be his property. The vehicle is to be delivered into my clients hands on 1st March 2009 subject to any dealership restrictions. Irrespective of the reason for any delay to this delivery date, the club will pay my client compensation at the rate of £1,000 per day until delivery is complete. I am now at your service Sir.”

I cannot speak for Shinawatra but I was amazed at her demands. She was including items I would never have thought of, and he was agreeing! This was not negotiation, it was sheer bloody blackmail. OK so you want us to do your dirty work for you, well, in that case, it is going to cost you. That’s what she was saying to the man.

Shinawatra was silent for a while.

“Before I can decide on the vehicle Miss Robertson you will have to tell me the make and model you desire.”

“In that case we will require a top of the range Porsche”

“Please bear with me for a while Miss Robertson.” With that, he left the office. He was gone about ten minutes, during which time, bearing in mind the current telephone set up, Kay and I remained silent. I whiled away the time composing a couple of lists of staff.

He returned about ten minutes later. “Miss Robertson, the club will supply your client with a Porsche GT2, with every conceivable extra delivered by their Bolton dealership. Do we have an agreement?”

“Yes we do Mr Shinawatra, but I should warn you that my client will not lift a finger until he is in possession of a fully signed, witnessed contract approved by me and our Solicitor.”

“I understand perfectly Miss Robertson. I will have a secretary prepare the complete document and have it faxed to you and your solicitor as quickly as possible. Please endeavour to reduce any delay to an absolute minimum as we have a tight schedule here.”

With that, he disconnected the call and had a secretary guide me to the Executives Lounge where I enjoyed fresh coffee and sandwiches while I waited for the paperwork to catch up with me.

That took about an hour before he, accompanied by a secretary, joined me complete with two copies of my contract, which we duly signed with the secretary as witness.

Handing me my copy he said, “Welcome to the club as Manager Jim. My secretary here will escort you to your new office where I believe you have some work to do. You will find a new secretary already in place there; if she is not suitable changing her is not a problem.”

“I’m sure that she will be quite suitable.”

“Hopefully so. A Press Conference has been arranged in the Conference Room for five this evening. Obviously, you are required to attend. Apart from that, I am sure that our paths will cross over the next few weeks. Now if you will excuse me, I have a car to order.”

He was smiling as he left.

[tenthreeleader]

I wish Kay had negotiated my last contract.

[JimT]

You and me both brother

[JimT]

Comings and Goings.

Shinawatra’s secretary left me clutching my lists and new contract in my new secretary’s office still adjusting to the fact that I was now Caretaker Manager of Manchester City Football Club. That would take some getting used to. It was hard to believe that I had turned up for work only seven hours ago as a Youth Coach at the club.

The only other occupant of the room was a woman, introduced as Pauline Anderson, late twenties early thirties I would have guessed. She was attractive enough without being in your face and her slim figure was adorned with a blouse and skirt combination that, although smart enough, looked old, or at best, passed its sell by date. No doubt there was a reason for that.

“Can I get you anything Mr Thomson?” A pleasant enough accent free voice I thought.

“Pauline, yes my name is Thomson, but all I am is the Caretaker Manager of this club, and, as such, a direct, possibly temporary, replacement for Mr Eriksson. I answer to Jim so let’s have none of that Mr Thomson nonsense. Unfortunately the circumstances of my appointment dictate that we have little or no time to get to know each other so we will just have to pick things up as we go along.”

“Firstly I need to know that you want to work with me, or do you want to jump ship now?”

She didn’t hesitate

“I’d like to stay Jim.”

“Good I’m glad that is settled. Here is a list of some of our current staff. I want to talk to all of them individually on the telephone within the next hour. I don’t care if whoever is half way across the Atlantic on a 747 you get him on a telephone to me.”

“Yes Jim.”

“This second list of names has a position alongside each one. While I am talking to the other lot, you contact the people on this second list. Tell them who you are and that you are calling on my behalf. Apologise for me being unable to speak to them personally at the moment then tell them that I want to offer them whatever position is alongside their name. Instant decisions Pauline, they are either interested in which case I want to see them here tomorrow, or they are not, in which case you simply scratch their name off the list. You OK with that?”

“Yes Jim.”

“Good – is that the door to my office?”

“Yes.”

“Good, then that is where I will be. Get some coffee into me. Ground not instant and white with no sugar. I’ll probably need more than one cup so you had better order a jug full.

Although not as plush as the Chairman’s, and minus the pictures, the standard of comfort I would enjoy in my office was not far behind. Facing the door was a huge, highly decorated, desk. It was a magnificent piece of furniture. Sitting behind it in a very comfortable chair, I noticed a bank of switches above the left hand drawer pillar.

Pressing the first button revealed a door opening into a large dressing room complete with bath, shower, toilet, and a full-length sliding door wardrobe.

The second button opened an area alongside the dressing room revealing a very large plasma TV screen with a well-stocked drinks cabinet underneath including crystal glasses. As that opened a remote control popped up on the left hand side of my desk.

The third button opened up a large filing cabinet to the right of the dressing room, while the fourth caused a wide screen computer screen keyboard and mouse to rise in the centre front of the desk.

I pressed the fifth button just in time as it revealed a telephone consol to the right of my desk, which rang as it appeared. Lifting the handset, I found myself talking to Pauline. She had Tord Grip waiting along with a few other Eriksson men.

Telling her I would talk to Tord I asked her to speak to me before patching through any of the others.

I explained my new position to Tord and awaited any comments he might care to make. As I had expected he wished me well in my new position but explained that, as an Eriksson man, he felt that we would not work well together, therefore, he would resign his position with immediate effect. While accepting his decision I managed to make it sound as though it was one I regretted.

Pauline was back on the line when Tord finished and I asked her to talk me through the console, which she did quiet lucidly. I also picked her brains as to how we handled resignations, sackings and hiring’s. Again, she had no trouble in bringing me up to speed. Passing on the news that Tord had resigned I asked her to start the procedure with him. Anticipating what my objective was she suggested that she checked in with me after every call to receive instructions. A very astute young lady was our Pauline.

Within the next thirty minutes or so another seven staff had resigned. They were certainly, and unwittingly making my task a lot easier for me. I actually only released two. One was Youth Coach Alex Gibson, who I had never rated, and one scout who had never submitted a single report in two years at the club.

By now, I was more than a little edgy, as no coffee had appeared. Striding into Pauline’s office, I saw that she was in the process of adding milk to the cup. That calmed me down a bit.

Accepting the cup from her hand, I had a sip then put it down on her desk.

“Pauline, coffee, above all else, and in peril of your life, is paramount with me. When I want one it takes priority over everything else.”

“Now who supplied this coffee, you or some underling?”

“It came from the Executive Restaurant.”

“OK ring them and pass on my compliments and that I want the same coffee I had when I breakfasted with the Chairman this morning. Don’t they even think about serving me this crap again under any circumstances. Furthermore, when I order coffee I want it in here hot and ready to drink in ten minutes if not less, I do not mean thirty minutes later. If they do not like what I am saying or object to my tone then tell them to take that up with Mr Shinawatra.”

“Finally while you are on to them order a fresh brew of the decent stuff.”

Back in my office, I concentrated on the buttons again.

The next in line opened the internal curtains hung over the full width of the office bay window. The next opened the sliding doors in that window, allowing access to a balcony furnished with comfortable tables and chairs. The balcony afforded an excellent view of the playing pitch.

The next button did not appear to do anything, or if it did then I could not work out what. The last I ignored as, if its predecessor was unfathomable then this one would be an equal mystery. I would have to get Pauline to explain them to me.

The fresh coffee arrived in less than ten minutes. Somebody somewhere knew what was good for them. I tested it and expressing my satisfaction invited Pauline to join me in a cup in my office.

“How are your calls progressing?”

“Quite well Jim. I have spoken directly with six candidates and they will all be here tomorrow morning to talk things over with you. Three I have left a message on their answer phone, including my own mobile number, in case they do not pick up until later on.

“Good thinking Pauline. Make a note of the time of the last call, add one hour, and then book the whole time in as overtime. I will sign off on your time sheet.”

“Thank you Jim.”

“Now will you please explain those last two buttons to me?”

The first one operated the intercom on the balcony to the Home Team Dug out, while the second locked the connecting door between my and Pauline’s office.

I made no comment.

“I am sorry Pauline if I was a bit abrupt or even sharp with you today but I had no time for any niceties. Hopefully I will be able to do better once I am more organised.”

“I’m sure you will Jim, and your manner was not a problem for me today.”

“How long have you worked for Mr Eriksson?”

“I never have done. This morning I was in the typing pool when word came from the Chairman that I was to be your secretary.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“Delighted. I jumped at the chance. Apart from prestige the job brings a substantial salary increase with it.”

“Why did he pick you?”

“I doubt very much that he did the actual picking. That was probably more of my supervisors doing.”

“But you were glad of the promotion.”

“Oh most definitely. I am divorced and it is difficult to maintain a flat, eat and keep up with fashion on a secretary’s pay.”

“Well this new job should help in that respect. Is there anything I can do for you immediately that would make your lot easier?”

“No thank you Jim. Provided you can tolerate two year old fashion for a few days I will be alright.”

“I think that I can put up with that. Not that I could tell the difference anyway.”

That raised a giggle.

“Right girl, I have 20 minutes before this bloody Press Conference. Is there anything else you and I need to sort out before we go our separate ways?”

“Only your start time in the morning and my hours of work.”

“Well this week I will probably be in the office around eight, although that could easily be pushed back a bit to eight thirty as things ease. As to your hours, I am afraid that they will have to be flexible for some time, including Saturday working. If you exceed your normal eight hour day or whatever then just book in the excess as overtime. Would any of that create any social problems for you, boyfriend, sick mother?”

“No. That will be fine.”

“Right then, where do we eat around here?”

“You are classed as Executive Grade therefore you are entitled to free meals in the Executive Lounge, or delivered to your office. It is open from eleven until eleven with the general public being admitted after six. They tell me the food is pretty good.”

“We will be the judge of that tomorrow.”

“Oh, I am not allowed to eat there during working hours. It is strictly reserved for Executives, their Personal Assistants and Guests.”

“Well that rule has just been amended Pauline.”

“I do not want to be the cause of any problems for you Jim.”

“Pauline at the moment there is me, and there is Shinawatra, and I am doing, and about to do him, some pretty big favours. They are big enough for him to think that the sun rises and sets in my backside. I can think of no better time for me to establish my rules over those of others. Therefore, if there are any more silly snobbish rules around that need changing then just let me know and I will fix it. You are my Secretary and, as such, important to my welfare and peace of mind. Neither of those facts determines that you should be treated as some second-class citizen.”

“Thanks Jim.”

“Now where is this damn Conference Room?”

[Kewell08]

I've just caught up on this. Great work, keep it up. I love it!

[JimT]

Shinawatra Meets the Press.

Over the years I had attended many a Press Conference although I had only been on the rostrum once and that was over twenty years ago when I moved from Southampton to City. My memory of the events of that day were now lost in the mists of time.

Looking down on about twenty odd pairs of eyes while under the scrutiny of an assortment of TV Cameras and lights was therefore, to all intents and purposes, a new experience for me.

There was a lot of curiosity in the room. I am sure that more than a few expected some announcement about the state of Sven’s health. Given the relatively short notice of the Conference, some may even have expected an announcement of his death. Whatever their expectations my presence on the rostrum did nothing to clarify matters.

It appeared that the only representatives of the club on the rostrum today would be Shinawatra and myself. The Chairman explained as we awaited the appointed hour, that I would meet ‘the more important’ Board members later tomorrow morning.

He also had a question for me. “Have you fulfilled your first task?”

“Yes. They have all left within the past two hours.”

He looked pleased.

Consulting his watch, he reached forward and switched on the bank of microphones on the table in front of us.

“Ladies and Gentlemen would you please settle down in order that we may begin.”

As everybody moved towards their selected seats, I got a glimpse of a few familiar faces. Gaby Yorath, or Logan as she was now, was there. We had a few dinner dates a number of years back but nothing ever came of it and she eventually met and married Kenny Logan a Scottish International Rugby player. Although we saw little of each other those days, we still remained good friends.

A huge mobile smile that went by the name of Andy Gray took up a seat towards the rear of the group. Andy had interviewed me a few times for Sky Sports and our friendship had developed from there.

Another friendly face was that of Adrian Chiles of the BBC. He was constantly being ribbed, on and off camera, for his devotion to West Bromwich Albion, one of football’s perennial underachievers. It never seemed to bother him.

My search for familiar faces was interrupted by Shinawatra starting the proceedings.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Manchester City Football Club. Please allow me to recount some recent club history before addressing the main objective of this conference.”

“Even before I purchased a controlling interest in the club it was apparent to me that Manchester City were not performing to the full capabilities of a club of its stature. In due course, once all the financial affairs and Board reorganisation had been accomplished I was able to turn my attention to the activities of the team on the football pitch.

The end result of my attentions was the appointment last year of Sven Göran Eriksson as Manager of the club. As a mark of my respect and confidence in his ability he enjoyed the use of a substantial transfer fund to purchase the players he considered necessary to turn the team around.”

He paused to drink some water.

“Last season with Sven at the helm and a few new players we were successful enough to finish eighth in the League. Hopes of at least a repeat, if not an improvement this season, were high.”

“Unfortunately this has proved to be not the case. Whether Sven was already being affected by his illness or not is one explanation that I have seen in some of your reports and programmes. Whatever the reason Sven’s illness increased in severity until he was unable to function properly at the City of Manchester ground and left for home. From there he eventually ended up in hospital where he remains in a critical condition to this day.”

“I, everybody at Manchester City, and I am sure football fans worldwide wish him a full and speedy recovery.”

There was a sprinkling of applause at his last remark.

Cynical bastards I thought, if Sven had been sitting here attempting to explain the failings of the club, they would have gladly torn him to pieces.

“The club has therefore been Managerless to all intents and purposes since last December. A situation that could not be allowed to continue indefinitely.”

“Last week I called an Emergency Board meeting attended by every Director. It was a very long, very stressful meeting. The end result was that the Club would appoint a Caretaker Manager and we would recruit from inside the existing club organisation.”

After discussions lasting all day, today I am pleased to introduce to you all Mr Jim Thomson, a former Youth Coach at the club, who has agreed to fill the position of Caretaker Manager. He has signed a contract to that effect valid until 31st May 2009. Although titled Caretaker he will enjoy the full rights authority and power as though he were the Full Time Manager of the Club.”

Shinawatra again sipped at his water.

“I will now take any questions you may have.”

Most of the assembled press held up a hand. Shinawatra pointed to one.

“Rob Smith, Granada TV. Mr Shinawatra did you at any time discuss the situation and subsequent decision of the Board and the choice of Caretaker with Mr Eriksson?”

“I did visit with Mr Eriksson at the hospital prior to the Board Meeting. Unfortunately due to the severity of his illness we were unable to hold any meaningful discussions.”

“Ivan Gaskell BBC TV. What position, if any, does Mr Eriksson hold at the club with this new appointment?”

“Mr Eriksson remains in his position as Full Time Manager of Manchester City Football Club. However all football duties and responsibilities have been transferred to the new post. That situation will remain until such time as Mr Eriksson is fit to return to his duties.”

“Gaby Logan, BBC TV. Should Mr Eriksson be fit to return to his duties substantially before 31st May what would be the situation then?”

“Quite simply Mr Eriksson is unable to return, fit or not, before 31st May. Jim Thomson is in charge from now until that date, irrespective of the status of Mr Eriksson’s health.”

“Andy Gray, Sky TV. The alternative to the last question Mr Shinawatra. What happens if Mr Eriksson is still unfit to continue on 31st May?”

Shinawatra laughed and held up his hand to forestall any more questions.

“A very good question Mr Gray. I wish I knew the answer.”

Still with his hand up, he became serious again.

“I think Mr Gray the best way I can answer your question and, no doubt, a few of the others that are surely waiting to be asked, is to run through the options faced by the Board last week.”

“The first choice we had was to do nothing. That course would certainly have not improved the fortunes of the club and could even have led to relegation to the Championship. That was not acceptable to the Board nor, we felt, would it be acceptable to the fans.”

“The second option would have been to sack Mr Eriksson and start the sometimes lengthy process of finding a suitable replacement. Manchester City is not the kind of club that kick’s a man while he is down and I am not that sort of person either. That option was discarded as being totally repugnant to the Board.”

“After a lot of wrangling we decided that by appointing a Caretaker Manager on a short term contract we might solve both problems. The appointment would put a guiding hand back on the helm and with the full powers as a Manager hopefully take us clear of danger. The second benefit would be that a short term contract might enable Mr Eriksson to return to the fold in the near future.”

“Mainly because of the term of contract we were prepared to offer we would be unable to attract suitable candidates outside of the club. An appointment from within was the only solution open to us.”

“Looking at our current staff the outstanding candidate was Mr Thomson. He had done, and was doing, an excellent job with our Under 18 Squad plus he was the only candidate in possession of the EUFA Pro Coaching Certificate. This would enable an instant appointment without having to seek exemptions from the FA. Fortunately for us Mr Thomson accepted the position.”

Shinawatra had another drink.

“Having solved our immediate Management problem we still had to consider the long term future of the club. We decided to tackle it as follows.”

“In early May we would seek medical opinion as to when they thought Mr Eriksson would be fit to carry on as Manager of the club. If this was determined to be prior to 31st May then Mr Eriksson would resume as Manager on 1st June 2009. Mr Thomson would either revert to his previous position suitably rewarded or, leave the club for new pastures with our blessing.”

“Alternatively if the Doctors were of the opinion that Mr Eriksson would have to remain in their care substantially past 31st May, or were even unable to estimate a likely date for his return, then we would actively have to seek a replacement Manager. This would not necessarily mean that Mr Eriksson would be sacked. Removed from the position of Manager Yes, but granted supernumery status at his current salary level within the club until the end of his current contract, which would be 30th June 2010. At that time, he would be free to enter into an open competition for the post of Manager.”

“In the meantime, the club would assess the performance of Mr Thomson as Caretaker Manager and the availability or otherwise of suitable candidates would be sought. Once in possession of all those facts the Board would decide what course of action would be in the best interests of the club.”

The long answer to Andy’s question seemed to satisfy their curiosity over the fate of Sven.

I knew that the time when I would be the focus of their attention was fast approaching. This could be a smooth, or very rough, ride.

“Rob Smith, Granada TV. Mr Shinawatra how have the players and staff reacted to Mr Thomson’s appointment?”

“I have no idea. You will have to ask them or Mr Thomson.”

“Mr Thomson, would you care to answer my question?”

[JimT]

I Meet the Press.

Now it was firmly my turn to face the hacks thirsting for knowledge. Although not looking forward to it I had to provide them with satisfactory answers to their questions. If I did not achieve that today, I would be forever hounded until they were satisfied. I had enough to do without fending off the press on a daily basis.

“Certainly Mr Smith. I did not become Caretaker Manager until earlier this afternoon and have had no opportunity to talk to the players as yet. I am therefore unable to pass on any opinions they may have. I will speak to them all tomorrow morning when all will be revealed but no doubt, by then, some of you will have sought them out and have the answers already.”

“Within the past two hours I have spoken to all the Coaching Staff and informed them of my new position at the club. Four have elected to remain at their posts, eight have resigned, and two I sacked as not being up to the standard required at this club.”

All hell broke loose as almost to a man the Press jumped to their feet shouting questions at the top of their voice. Shinawatra and I ignored the outburst until it had quietened down of its own accord and everybody returned to his or her seats. Most held an arm aloft.

Shinawatra spoke first.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, if there are any further outbursts of that nature then this conference is over.”

“Please continue Mr Thomson.”

“Thank you. I will not speak for everyone who resigned as their responses ranged from ‘In that case I resign’ to more fuller explanations for the reason they felt they had to leave, but I will précis the replies of Hans Backe and Tord Grip who gave the fullest explanations.”

“When a club hires Sven Göran Eriksson they do not hire one man. Unconsciously they hire a team with a proven record of accomplishment where each member of the team works very well alongside the others Remove any one member of the team and the unit becomes dysfunctional. With the removal of the head of the team, no matter how temporary, the others felt that they had no alternative but to resign. Those that made the effort assured me that I was not the cause. The club could have appointed Wenger or Ferguson with exactly the same result.”

“I stand by my decision over the sackings. That is my right as Manager and I have expressed my gratitude to those who elected to remain at their posts.”

“I have contacted nine possible replacements, six of whom will be here tomorrow to discuss terms.”

“Ivan Gaskell, BBC TV. Can you give us the names of the staff you hope to sign?”

“Not until after they have signed on the dotted line.”

“Gaby Logan, BBC TV. Can you tell us how you intend to turn things around on the playing field?”

“Obviously I have been appointed too late to acquire the services of any additional players that might have helped us this season. Similarly, the prospects of any decent loan deals this close to the end of the season are just as unlikely. I therefore have no choice but to go with the players currently on our books. I hope that the players respond positively to what is virtually a complete new training staff and methods. I expect that I will tweak our tactics slightly and, combining both events, I believe that we will still be in the Premier League next season.”

“Adrian Chiles, BBC TV. How confident are you of achieving the objective?”

“I am very confident. It will require a few matches but we have sufficient time to make the necessary turn around.”

“Andy Gray, Sky Sports. What contribution do you see yourself making to next season’s team given the short duration of your contract?”

“A lot would depend upon who would be carrying the torch. All I can do, as an absolute minimum is hand over a team fit for purpose and I believe I can achieve that. With regard to signing new players that is unlikely to happen until the identity of the new manager is established. All I can do is to get our scouts out there searching for players of better quality than those already on our books. I will not be compiling a short list as such; all I will do is to retain the Scout lists giving any new manager at least a start point for obtaining new players.”

“Rob Smith, Granada TV. During May when the club announce that they are looking for a new manager, would you apply?”

“A lot would depend upon the then circumstances. If I thought that I had done a good job and felt that I had a lot more to contribute, then the answer would be yes. You forget however that by then it is not a one way street, I could be the subject of offers from other clubs.”

I noticed the start of surprise at my comment from Shinawatra.

“Andy Gray, Sky Sports. Mr Thomson you are renowned throughout football for your loyalty to Manchester City and are perceived by many as a ‘one club’ man. Are you seriously suggesting the possibility of you leaving this club at the end of your current contract?”

“Of course. I came into work this morning very happy with my lot as a Youth Coach at a club I love. All that changed with the offer, and my acceptance, of the post of Caretaker Manager. As we all well know, there is no club in the world who would offer an ex-manager a post as a coach. They come with too much baggage and far too many independent ideas. Both items can be very disruptive at a new club. When I accepted the Managerial post, I closed the door on all coaching jobs. If I want to remain in the game, it can only be as a manager. Hopefully that would be with Manchester City but that decision is not mine to make. Not yet anyway.”

There were a lot of surprised faces in that room.

With all the more important questions being put and answered and nobody apparently inclined to ask any more, Shinawatra brought the proceedings to an end.

As we were leaving the Conference Room, he drew me to one side. “Don’t forget our meeting tomorrow. I will pass the time on to your secretary. It appears that we have a lot more to talk about than I originally thought.”

Back in Pauline’s office, I was surprised to see her still sitting at her desk. When I entered, she rose and went to her en-suite returning with two steaming hot coffees. By then I was slumped in a spare chair pulling my tie loose and unbuttoning my collar.

“Where did you get that from?”

“While you were out I spoke to the Chef at the Executive Lounge and arranged for a machine etc to be delivered here. It makes more sense than him having someone on permanent coffee making duties. The equipment he sent is temporary. A new, better machine will appear tomorrow as will decent cups, saucers and spoons, and all the other necessaries.”

“Good thinking girl.”

She asked how the conference went.

“More or less as I expected. There was a bit of a furore when I announced that eight staff had left but, apart from that, no great problems.”

I informed her that Shinawatra would be calling through an appointment with him and some Board Members for tomorrow. I said that, at this early stage, we should accommodate him with regards to time.

“How are your calls going? Are they all in or are you still on overtime.”

“Overtime I’m afraid but there are only two to go, and so far, no rejects.”

“Good.”

I drained my coffee cup. “I have an appointment with my agent in about an hour so it is time I wasn’t here. I’ll see you in the morning and thanks for your help today.”

“Good Night Jim.”

[Goofus]

Morning Mr Jim Thomson

Your consent will be needed to include you in a series of short stories closely related to a real-life television series, entitled 'This Is Your Life'

Please state whether you accept or decline as soon as possible

Thank you and have a nice day.

[JimT]

Goofus. I regret that at this time of the season I am far too busy to assist with your request.

Perhaps later in the year it might be possible but not in the immediate future.

Thank you for your kind invitation.

[O\'Hara_fan]

Jim, I must say I love this story. Very indepth and thats why I like it. Keep it up and I'm sure you will.

[JimT]

Agent Speak.

It was almost a relief to get into the sanctity of the flat. With the coffee brewing I hung up the suit, dumped the rest in the laundry basket, changed into casual shorts and shirt then half sat, half slumped on a settee attempting to give my brain a rest.

It had been a long an very busy day and I was feeling the effects. I was aware that I would have other busy days ahead. I had still to hire and settle virtually a complete new staff, plus I still had the players to contend with.

Although I was on speaking terms with the vast majority of them I had been, up until today, ‘only’ a Youth Coach, therefore my influence over their futures and fate was, to put it mildly, minimal at best. As Caretaker Manager all that had changed. I most definitely now had a big say in their destiny. How they reacted to that change would determine to a large degree my success or failure at the club.

As I mulled over the day’s events my thoughts moved on to my future. For good or bad, better or worse, over the next three months I would be managing a football club. Not just any old club either, but Manchester City an organisation I had grown to love. If I was successful and the gods were willing, I could continue in that role at City. If I failed, or ended up as a second choice candidate, then that would be a very hard day for me as I walked through the gates for the last time.

Shinawatra, I thought, you have really stuffed me.

As I thought that, I conceded that I would have to accept some of the responsibility for my situation as well.

I must have dropped off as the next thing I knew was the telephone ringing. It was Kay. “I’m about ten minutes away. Put the kettle on.” Having just woken up I was only too happy to oblige.

Greeting Kay with what was intended as a welcoming peck on the cheek some developed into a full-blown ‘I want you badly’ kiss, to which she responded in full.

After a while, she stepped back. “Steady boy, we have all night for that. We need to take care of the inner man and woman first. Have you eaten? No. Well a chat over coffee first then food.”

As usual, Kay spoke in her normal staccato fashion, supplying her own answers without waiting for a reply. She usually got things right though.

The first coffee disappeared in silence. As I was pouring the second cup, I said, “You really stuck it to Shinawatra this afternoon. I would never have dreamt of half of your demands, let alone asked for them.”

“That’s why people with a certain set of talents employ people like me with a different set of talents. You concentrate on your talents and I will make sure that you are well rewarded. What we gained today is by no means an exhaustive list. We could have included other items but with only a three-month window, most of them were either already out of sight or not worth the effort. Next time will be a lot different.”

“Jim you do know that having taken this step there is no going back for you?”

“I had worked that out earlier.”

“I have never touted your talents to other clubs mainly because I knew that you were happy here but also because I perceived you to be somewhat lacking in ambition. That latter trait can go against you when Chairmen are considering hiring new faces. It is also something that I do not like in any man in my life. Apart from our professional relationship, the only thing that kept me coming here was the sex, which is pretty good. Now that you are displaying a bit of ambition I think you will be seeing a lot more of me in the future.”

Seeing the expression o my face she jumped quickly in. “Don’t panic. I am not proposing marriage or anything like that; it is not that kind of relationship. I am content with that side of my life.”

I did not say anything but I was relieved to hear that.

I poured out the last of the coffee.

“What I do propose to do Jim is the make every Chairman considering a Management change aware that you are now prepared to leave Manchester City. Until you have been in the job a few weeks I do not expect much reaction and who will react when the time comes will a lot depend upon your performance.”

“What kind of clubs are we talking about?”

“Well certainly English. The continentals will not even look at you until you start to build a bit of a reputation. The best you could hope for now would possibly be Championship Sheffield Wednesday but only because they are in free fall hurtling towards the First Division. Even they will not make any definate approach until you have demonstrated your capabilities here at City.”

“Apart from them and the unforeseen I think you are looking at First or Second Division Clubs. That obviously puts a bit of a damper on your budgets and earning power but given a couple of good seasons I think we could well have you back in the Premier Division.”

Although not exactly a bleak picture the prospects she was outlining did not exactly inspire me. I would just have to prove everybody wrong.

“You don’t look overjoyed at your prospects Jim.”

“I’m just contemplating life outside the Premier Division and it is not inspiring. Given a complete freedom of choice I would prefer to stay here at City.”

“Well let’s hope that it works out that way, but Shinawatra will have to dig a lot deeper than he might think to keep you here. Now how about food? Are we making a phone call or going out?”

Deciding to make a phone call, I got on with that while Kay collected her overnight bag from her car and headed for the shower and bedroom.

Kay was back in the lounge wearing a long silk robe that would have graced any Hollywood Star about five minutes before the food arrived. By now, I had cleared up all the coffee things and had the table set ready for our meal. The coffee was replaced by a bottle each of red and white wine.

Laying the food out on the table next to the settee, we ate and drank while making light conversation. The only football topic was Kay enquiring about the progress I was making towards replacing the Staff that had left. Updating her, she volunteered her services saying that she knew of a few good people hanging around the scene that would be only too happy to get back into harness, particularly at a club like Manchester City.

With our meal complete Kay fiddled with the TV remote while I cleared up all the debris. I was quite domesticated really.

Kay had found a talk show on one of Sky Sports Channels where I was the main topic. As well as simply reporting the facts, illustrating them with excerpts from the Press Conference, they had he usual posse of experts and pundits all expounding their personal theories on the implications of my appointment to all and sundry.

While most were adopting a ‘let’s wait and see approach’ the only wholehearted support for me came from Andy Gray who thought I would open a few eyes as a result of my spell as caretaker.

By the time we had ran through that a couple of times I was more than ready for bed, and not just for sleep either.

[JimT]

Tuesday 24th February 2009.

The clatter of my alarm penetrated through my thick skull and. leaning across Kay, I managed to hit the correct button just beating her fumbling fingers to it.

“Get that bloody poker out of my back. Haven’t you had enough yet?”

Kay was never at her best first thing in the morning.

Laughing I got out of bed and beaded for the kitchen where I got the coffee on the go before heading for the shower.

With Kay preferring more sleep I ended up on my own in the kitchen, by now fully booted and suited, and quite refreshed after a second coffee.

Sticking my head round the bedroom door all I could see was a few strands of hair sticking above the duvet and absolutely no signs of life. Leaving her to it, I collected my bits and headed for the Stadium.

Shinawatra was no slouch I thought as I pulled into Sven’s old parking bay. He was gone, and there I was in all my glory, Jim Thomson, Caretaker Manager, Manchester City Football Club, the sign now read. It made good reading.

Something else that looked good that morning was a smartly dressed Pauline with a coffee in her hand, which she promptly handed over.

“Good Morning Pauline. Welcome to the first day of the rest of my football life.”

“Good Morning Jim.”

“Are you still on overtime or have you signed off yet?”

“The last call was about eleven and I signed of at midnight as requested. Everybody will be here this morning. No fixed times but all should be here by lunchtime.”

“Good girl. If any turn up before I talk to the players then hold them here until I have finished. Apart from that just wheel them in as and when they arrive, but only one at a time in my office please.”

With that, I entered my office and, sitting at my desk, I switched everything on, including the intercom I think. All those switches would take a bit of getting used to.

Bringing up what used to be Sven’s Diary on screen revealed nothing but blanks apart from team fixtures and travel arrangements.

Discarding that course as a waste of time, I buzzed Pauline and asked her to put me through to whoever would be best to learn about club procedures, unwritten rules, etc. She suggested Bernard Halford, the club General Secretary. A fifteen minute chat with him and I was a lot better informed.

As nobody appeared by quarter to nine, I left Pauline in charge and headed for the Training Centre and the Dressing Rooms there.

I found Eric Steele, our goalkeeping coach, Stefano Marrone, the fitness coach, Paul Power, a youth coach, and, Jim Cassell, the Academy Manager, all cutting very lonely figures among a host of players.

As the senior present, I had Stefano get some order into the noisy rabble that was my team. Not an easy thing to do with a bunch of high-spirited football players, but he managed in the end.

“Good Morning everybody. Just in case some of you have been living on another planet for the past few years, I am Jim Thomson, ex-Youth Coach, now Caretaker Manager of the club. I am sure however that the majority of you know me and have varying opinions about me as a man, a coach, and, my suitability to carry out my new duties”

“As it happens your opinion of my suitability are of no consequence to me or to the club. The Chairman and the Board have appointed me and that is the beginning and end of the story. The powers that be believe I can do the job and all I can say is that I will give you and the club my best efforts.

“I have not arrived here carrying a new broom. Certainly initially, you will see little or no changes in tactics and training. As we progress, that will change – but not dramatically. All I ask is that you attempt to adjust to my ways and instructions. I will not be asking you to do anything you are incapable of.”

“You will find that I operate an open door policy where you are free to grab me at any convenient time to discuss any fears or problems you may have. It is my intention, once the dust has settled, to spend a few hours each training day here so you will find me accessible”.

“As you can see we are a bit short handed Staff wise today. That is something I hope to correct between now and tomorrow. I am confident that we will be better served by tomorrow morning.”

“Now does anybody have any immediate questions that won’t wait?”

I let the silence run for a minute or two.

“Good. Now, with the shortage of staff, training will be a bit different today. All the goalkeepers will train under Eric Steele as normal. All the Youth Squad will be under the direction of Paul Power. Everybody else, Reserves, First Team, whatever, will be under the direction of our Fitness Coach, Stefano Marrone. A good day’s fitness training will not do any of you any harm; it might even do some of you some good.”

I ushered them all out while grabbing Jim Cassell and telling him to get back to the Academy and look after our future.

I watched the players, as they split into three larger than normal groups and settle down to their training. I did not regret confining the majority to fitness training. It would not do them any harm plus I had long felt that we had been somewhat lacking in that area.

So far, I had detected no great signs of dissent, not that I had expected any. The people were professionals and, although a great source of enjoyment to them, treated their job as football players in a professional manner. Well, most of them did.

Returning to my office, I entered via an external corridor door, thus bypassing Pauline. Once I was settled, I buzzed for her to come in, hopefully with some coffee. She duly appeared carrying a cup of the brew. She was learning fast.

“I have four fit looking guys waiting for you in my office.”

“OK. Wheel them in, one at a time.”

Over the next two hours I interviewed, and signed up nine new staff in the confines of my office. A telephone call to Kay, still in my flat, instigated return calls from a further three who promised to appear first thing tomorrow to sign up.

By twelve thirty, I had a complete staff and was a lot happier bunny than I had been when I started.

[Goofus]

No problems, Jim,it's just a story anyway.

[JimT]

Tuesday 24th February 2009.

I escorted a rather nervous Pauline into the Executive Restaurant where we were attended to by an attractive and attentive waitress who never treated Pauline any different than she did me. This contributed greatly to her settling down and enjoying the surroundings.

About half an hour into the meal, a gasp from Pauline caused me to follow her eyes where I saw that Shinawatra had just entered the restaurant accompanied by a group of about half a dozen. Seeing us on the opposite side of the room, he strode over accompanied by a fellow suit.

He was graciousness itself in welcoming us both to the Restaurant and shook Pauline’s hand warmly. His sole purpose was to publicly bestow his blessing on us both. He was very successful in his objective as, after he had left us, many of the diners left their tables to shake our hand and welcome me to the club.

Before he left he enquired if there was anything he could do to make life a little easier on me.

“There is just one thing Mr Chairman. I had a conversation with Bernard Halford this morning during which I learned that I might be violating some unwritten rule by dining here with Pauline as company.”

“If that is so Mr Thomson, then I know nothing of any such rule. However if there is such a thing I am sure there is a perfectly good reason for it.”

“I also found out from Bernard that Executive Status starts at Personal Assistant level. Perhaps if Pauline could be elevated to the higher position that might save any possible grief in the future.”

“That is a very good idea Mr Thomson.” Turning to his companion he said, “Make the necessary arrangements please Bernard. Welcome to the Club Pauline.”

With that, he rejoined his group closely followed by Secretary Bernard.

“I think you are now a fully paid up member of the Executive Society now Pauline.”

“So it would appear. He had no need to acknowledge me in that way or to agree to your P.A. suggestion.

“That was just his way of bestowing his seal of approval on us. The fact that he did speaks volumes about the nature of the man. How does it feel being my P.A. as opposed to Secretary?”

“Very nice, thank you very much. I think that you had other motives other than easing my passage into the Executives Lounge.”

“Yes, I was wondering how I could get you a decent pay rise. As the Manager that would not have been a problem, as Caretaker though, it would be difficult. This way all my objectives have been achieved.”

From then on, the conversation was just about getting to know each other better.

Apparently, she had been with the club about five years having moved on from a previous job with an IT company. The Boss of that company just happened to be her ex-husband. A good enough reason to move on I thought. Although the marriage had not been particularly good, the actual divorce was not acrimonious and he had provided her with a decent two bed flat and a few thousand in the bank. Setting up home and furnishing the flat had severely dented the bank balance and it was not until last year that she could say she was actually breaking even financially. The promotions of yesterday and today would certainly go a long way to easing her financial problems and, provided she kept her head, she could even save a bit once she had restored her wardrobe, which was a bit dated.

“One thing about eating here Pauline is that your food bills will go down.”

“They are not all that much anyway. I have had to shop with one eye on the price tag and another on the contents of my purse. I eat to live and luxuries like the ‘Smoked Salmon’ today are just that – unaffordable luxuries.”

Since the divorce, men had not played a big part in her life other than the odd fling, which was mainly a sex thing rather than any budding relationship. At least she was open and honest about it all.

When we got around to me, I was just as honest. Yes, I did have a long-standing girl friend of about fifteen years standing. There were no plans for us to marry and I believed that if either suggested such a course of action both would run like hell. I believed that Kay had other men on her travels but I had no great objection to this, just as she had no objection to me seeing other women. As it happened, the ‘other women’ in my life were very few and far between as, in the circles I moved in, the majority of them were married. I was not that desperate or foolish enough to get involved with a married woman. Those things had a nasty habit of blowing up in your face through the tabloid newspapers. I had seen more than a few careers ruined by such actions.

“Anyway enough of this chit chat Pauline, I have a stack of work to do in the office.”

So saying we headed back to our domain where, as I entered my office, I instructed her to keep the coffee coming.

She did.

[JimT]

Tuesday 24th February 2009.

It was a matter of seconds to get the computer up and running and all my papers in some sort of order.

I brought up the Staff Screen and started to fill in the blanks and update the others.

As Assistant Manager, I had hired Eric Black a long time friend on a two-year contract. Eric had been discarded by Birmingham City when they appointed Trevor Francis as Steve Bruce’s replacement. That was something I never really understood unless it was a personal thing. To my mind Eric was a first class Assistant with a leaning towards an adventurous style of play within a 4-4-2 formation. Good at judging players ability with a sound knowledge of tactics I was optimistic of him contributing greatly to the team. What really helped was that we did not need to get to know each other. We had been friends for years and well understood each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Also on a two-year deal, I had German Reinhard Stumpf as our First Team Coach. He had served his apprenticeship well as Assistant at Kaiserslautern and Wolfsburg before moving on to Galatasaray as First Team Coach. Personal reasons had caused him to leave there and stay out of the game for about eighteen months, but he had made it known that he was available again about three months ago. A strict disciplinarian with very good tactical knowledge he would be an asset to my team.

Tony McAndrew I had poached from Aston Villa where he had been an excellent Youth Coach. Bumping him up to Reserve Team Coach had clinched the deal, which would expire in 2010. A first class coach with a singular talent for handling younger players I knew our reserves would be in good hands.

Richard Cook had been one of Kay’s recommendations and I had hired him as a General Coach purely on her say so. He was apparently very good at passing on to players Attacking and Defensive techniques. This was his first job out of the lower divisions so he was inexperienced at our level. He could not help but learn from his colleagues. I thought he would be all right.

Jim Cassell was the manager of our Academy and he had also elected to stay with us. I was very glad to have him as he was an excellent coach, perhaps a bit weak tactically but that was compensated for by his excellent other skills. At 61 years of age, I doubted that he would be with us long but I hoped that he would at least see out his current three-year deal.

Goalkeeping Coach Eric Steele had also elected to stay on after my appointment. He was a first class keeping coach with very good management skills. He was signed to us for two years.

Another good friend who had elected to stay with City was our Fitness Coach Stefano Marrone and I was very glad to have him. He was the best Fitness Coach I had ever trained under. As well as using the normal fitness routines present at other clubs, he seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of techniques that nobody had ever heard of. With this unique combination, he managed to get things out of players when they felt there was no more to give. Unusually for football players his fitness sessions were a definite favourite.

Tommy Söderberg in addition to being a youth coach with us also managed the Swedish Under 21 Team, and he was excellent at both jobs. Contracted to us until 2011 I originally had him down as an Eriksson man but apparently, I was wrong. Currently attending a funeral in Sweden when I spoke to him yesterday, he was more than happy to support me and was keen to remain at the club. An excellent Youth Coach I hoped he would extend his current deal when the time came – and if I was still here of course.

Paul Power was another I want to stay man and an excellent Youth Coach into the bargain. He was contracted with us until 2011 and was another I would like to extend given the opportunity.

With all three Physiotherapists resigning, it was very much a case of back to square one and I had been lucky. Very lucky in fact.

Spaniard Sabino Padilla and German Peter Giegle had both been unemployed when I was looking and both jumped at the chance to join City. They were both absolutely first class Physio’s and both would be great additions to the team. I had them on the books until 2011.

Kay had come up with a third candidate. Baybora Acemi was a German National who had developed his Physio talents over four years at 1.FC Köln and he was very good at it. He had no hesitation in accepting my offer of a contract at City until 2011.

With those three in place, I reckoned I had one of the strongest Physio Departments in the country.

Scout Derek Fazackerly was another that I was glad to see remaining at the club. A very good scout he also possessed some good coaching skills and had actually been City’s Assistant Manager for a spell in 2002. We had obviously worked together in different capacities over the years and we got on well together. His contract was due to run out in 2010 and I wanted him to scout England for us.

Graham Carr was the weakest of our scouts but was still capable at his job. I wanted him to Scout our next opposition for the duration of his current deal that expired in 2012. He had some experience as an Assistant at a few lower league clubs but did not have much of a reputation as a coach.

I had managed to nick Bobby Hope from West Bromwich Albion where he had been a successful scout. At 65 years of age, I did not expect him to go beyond 2010 when his deal expired. If he turned up a couple of half decent players in that time, I would be pleased. I sent him off to scout Scotland.

Enrique Castro, he preferred to be known as Quini, had been scouting for Real Sporting in the Spanish Lower Leagues since 1998 and had turned up a few gems in his time there. I hoped he could do the same for us. His allotted territory was obviously Spain.

A year as a Scout at Portsmouth had honed Christian Karenbeu’s skills, which were considerable. He would only sign for one year but I hoped that after a successful spell with us scouting France he might be persuaded to extend.

Erich Beer a scout at Hertha BSC the 62 year old had gladly signed with City but I suspected more by way of a last fling than anything else. He was a particularly good scout adept at finding talented youngsters contracted to us until 2010. Naturally, Germany would be his territory.

That then was my back up team for better or worse. Personally, I thought it was better even although there were a couple of areas where we could improve. Generally though, considering the time I had been at the helm, I thought that I had done well to attract such quality men to the club.

Having logged all the Staff on to the system I sat back doing some serious thinking.

My thinking was concentrated on one man.

About three or four years ago after a meal in a local restaurant I had sat in their bar enjoying a drink as I relaxed after the meal. Another solitary male joined me there and we got talking. Nothing heavy, just casual talk.

As is the way of such things, we kept bumping into each other and became friends. Apart from an exchange of telephone numbers we had never been to each other’s home and had never ‘agreed to meet’ at any specific time and place. I never met any of his friends or family and he none of mine. We just kept bumping into one another.

One obvious common denominator was football. Every so often, but not every meeting, he would dig a tattered old notebook out of an inside pocket and suggest that I ‘have a look’ at such and such a player at some obscure club or other. All his tips were absolute gems and we had actually signed three to longish deals. All three were currently in our Reserve Squad knocking on the door of our First Team.

You just knew that this guy would someday turn up the next Rooney or Ronaldo. I just hoped that I was in a position to act upon his information when this happened.

I had not seen him for a month or two but that was nothing unusual.

I opened up a file marked Private and typed in his name. Nothing else – just the name. Even the best search engine would only produce several thousand hits with no clues.

Apart from anything else, my man had no web identity. He was about as close to being Mr Anonymous as you could get.

With me now finished with the computer, I buried it in the desk again then buzzed Pauline to join me in a coffee.

“Tomorrow morning Pauline I will be at the Training Centre just to make sure that everybody is singing from the same hymn sheet. I should be back here by about ten or eleven. When I get back, I want to have a look at all the player files. They are not mentioned on the computer.”

“I thought you would have known all about them.”

“The Under 18’s I know well, with everybody else it is a case of knowing of them as opposed to knowing about them. There might be something in a file that determines my attitude to one or another player.”

“OK Jim, I’ll start now. Shinawatra rang. He had to cancel today’s meeting. Other business. He will be in touch whenever he can find a convenient slot.”

With that, she left with her coffee and disappeared through the connecting door.

My mobile rang. It was Kay. “Jim I am doing a bit of business while I am here this evening. I’ll probably eat out so you had best make your own eating arrangements. I should be with you by about eight.”

The good news was that I would have company in bed again tonight. The bad news was that this would be the last time for a while. It was unusual for Kay to spend any more than two nights in one town.

On my way home, I stopped off at a local fish and chip restaurant and stocked up on fuel. I did not see Mr Anonymous.

Back in the flat I discarded the whistle and flute and padded about in shorts and tee shirt. Eventually I settled myself in front of the plasma scouring the Sports Channels. I was still very much to the forefront of today’s stories. There was a lot of discussion and conjecture over my appointment. Funnily enough, nobody actually said I could not do the job.

Somebody had faith.

Kay arrived just after eight announcing that she was off to Monaco in the morning to ‘take care of a young Belgian’ on her books at that club.

We made the most of the time left to us.

[JimT]

Wednesday 25th February 2009.

With an early flight to catch Kay was out of bed with me the following morning. Even after coffee, her disposition did not improve a great deal.

Promising to see me again should anything turn up on the job front, and, in any case, before the end of the season, we said our goodbyes in the car park.

After my initial coffee with Pauline, I was at the training ground seeing the players and staff off on their inaugural training session together. My initial impression was that the jury was still out on both sides. This was no more than I expected. There would be a lot of adjustments made as they got to know each other.

None of the new staff seemed intent on introducing any revolutionary training methods and were more concerned with assessing the ability and fitness of their charges. I thought this to be a very sensible approach.

Leaving Eric in charge on the field I gathered the scouts together and briefed them on their areas and what my expectations were. I told them to spend the day assessing our current squads then moving out tomorrow. Hopefully they would turn up better players.

Everybody on the staff seemed to adopt the attitude that we were all on a contract and wanted to do the best for the club thereby earning a renewal. The fact that I would be first up in the renewal stakes was totally incidental to them.

How the players felt was so far totally unknown.

I hung around for an hour watching the various drills then deciding that things were running as smoothly as I could have expected I returned to my office.

Occupying the centre of my desk was a massive pile of seventy-five player files.

I almost asked for a brandy in the coffee.

“Do you like to watch football matches Pauline?”

“Occasionally, why?”

“My first game in charge is against Blackburn on this coming Saturday afternoon. That leaves me free all day and I thought I might do a bit of retail therapy. Do you fancy coming along as an advisor?”

“To what, the shopping or all day?”

“Well we could get together for lunch, do the shopping, mainly suits shirts etc., take in the match, then have dinner together.”

“Sounds OK Jim, what time and where?”

“I’ll pick you up about midday if that’s ok.”

With that settled we chatted for a while longer before heading for the Executive Lounge and an early lunch.

Back in my office, I rang Nicholas Jones, one of the better tailors in town, that I had dealt with before. Once I had established that I was a returning customer, arranging a home visit for Saturday afternoon at such short notice was not a problem, as did my requirements, which would see the best part of £10k entering their coffers.

My next call was to Chaophraya Thai Restaurant, which was reckoned to be one of the best in town, to book a table for Saturday night. Again I was a known customer, haven eaten there before, so a Saturday booking proved to be no problem. I also ordered the Royal Chaophraya Set Menu for two. Even a known customer could not order that walking straight in off the street. The food took 48 hours to prepare. It was well worth the wait though.

Satisfied that I had Saturday organised as much as I could I was unable to postpone things any longer. It was file time.

[JimT]

Wednesday 25th February 2009.

Manchester City Under 18 Squad.

I knew this squad well.

By far the majority of the players were not up to scratch and would be unlikely to further their careers at this club. While most of them were, or eventually would be, capable of performing at lower league or Championship level there were only two players that I would consider retaining as Premiership prospects. Considering the restrictions placed on me by my contract, I was fortunate in that both were already on long-term deals.

Abdtsalem Ibrahim was a seventeen-year-old Norwegian Under 21 Attacking Central Midfielder who, in twenty three appearances for the club had scored four goals and provided six assists. Although not a particularly good return for that number of starts, he was improving with each game demonstrating an ever-increasing ability.

Euan Miller would be eighteen in January 2010 and was contracted to us until 2011. He was a decent striker with six goals in twelve appearances. In that time he had also contributed three assists and earned four Man of the Match Awards. I reckoned that he was going to be a very good player if handled right.

As for the remaining seventeen players in the squad, my contract determined that they would simply be allowed to continue with their current deals. If that meant some leaving, as it did, then I considered them to be no great loss to the club anyway.

With the easiest of the squads completed in just under an hour, I returned to Pauline’s office for coffee and a chat.

The chat mainly comprised of the arrangements for Saturday. She seemed to be impressed with both my choice of tailor and restaurant.

I did not loiter too long as I still had a long way to go.

Manchester City Reserve Squad.

Of the total squad strength of twenty-three, four were currently out on loan to other clubs. As there was nothing I could do about them immediately, I put their files to one side.

As to the remaining nineteen, I did just as I had with the previous lot. Studying each file in turn and supplementing the contents with what I knew of each player a familiar pattern began to emerge. All of them could play a bit but not to the standard of our level. At most three or four might make it a journeymen Premier players but the rest were more suited to the Championship or lower leagues.

As with the Under 18 players, I allowed them to remain on their current deals. I had after all no choice but to do otherwise.

One thing I did do was get a memo off to Shinawatra asking what I could or could not do in the event of some club wanting to sign a player that I considered we had no need for. Did I turn down every request or tell them to ring back on 1st June? I also pointed out that unless the current policy was modified somewhat we were in danger of losing some potentially very good players.

I would be very interested in his reply.

With the dross in the squad dealt with, I had a look at our four loan players.

I was not surprised to see that three of them had come to us via Mr Anonymous.

The first of those was Richard Martin a twenty one year old goalkeeper currently at Alfreton Town in the Blue Square Premier League. So far, he had started in eighteen of their games producing five clean sheets in the process. He was learning and improving quickly and could be a serious candidate as our starting Reserve keeper next season. He was contracted with us until 2010.

Another Anonymous man was nineteen-year-old Michael Conner currently plying his trade at Rochdale in the Blue Square Premier League. He had not enjoyed a particularly good stay at Rochdale as he had been mainly confined to the bench. On his rare appearances, he had shown up well as a good right back. He was within the last six months of his current deal and would leave in June this year. Purely on the strength of his original recommendation, I would have liked to extend him to give him a chance to show us what he was made of. That would have to wait until my memo elicited a response.

Also at Rochdale, but enjoying a lot better luck, was the last Anonymous man, Chedwyn Evans, a twenty-year-old striker who had accumulated seven goals, three assists and three Man of the Match Awards to his name. Not too shabby I thought for a youngster. Like his teammate Connor, he too would leave us in June. He could be a loss to the club.

The last loan player was Jack Hobbs a Central Defender at Coca Cola League One Oldham Athletic. He was turning in some steady performances there and, at twenty years old, had plenty of time on his side to develop into a good centre back. He was signed to us until 2011.

With Hobbs put to bed, I had completed two of the three piles of files. I collected both piles and took them into Pauline where, after dumping them on her table, I slumped in a chair demanding coffee.

This she was happy to do and, while I was working my way through two cups, she returned all the files to their proper place.

I was half way through the second up when she returned to her desk. “I don’t suppose there is anything I can do is there?”

“Not really Pauline but thanks for the offer.”

“How much is left for you to do?”

“The hardest of all. The whole bloody First Team.”

“How long will that take?”

“Hard to say, certainly two hours, if not longer.”

“You will be exhausted by the time you finish Jim. I will stay on with you and keep the coffee supply fresh and regular. You don’t have to make it overtime either.”

“Thanks Pauline. I’d appreciate that, and it will be overtime, as for the meal we will have afterwards, that won’t cost you a penny either.”

I finished my drink, then mentioning Pauline to sit still, I poured out my third cup and just stood there drinking, clearing my head.

A look at my watch showed it to be almost five.

I thought for a minute or two.

“I’ve changed my mind Pauline. The work can keep until tomorrow morning. Dinner is still on if you fancy it?”

She fancied it.

[JimT]

Thursday 26th February 2009.

The First Team.

I awoke with a clear head and mentally congratulated myself on being alone in my bed. I suppose that if either Pauline or I had taken advantage of the situation last night the awakening could have been entirely different. As it was, we simply enjoyed each other’s company over some good British food. I think it was a case of both of us deciding independently and unconsciously that now was not the right time for us sexually.

As I stood in the shower, I reflected upon what was a wise decision considering that I still had a mountain of work to get through. Spending the best part of the previous night satisfying a woman’s needs was not exactly the best preparation in the world for the work I had to do today. I would need a clear head, not one clogged up by lack of sleep or a brain full of sexual images from the night before.

By the time I had showered, the percolator had done its work and I was able to relax even more by sipping at the brew. While I was contemplating what to have for breakfast, my thoughts drifted on to the dietary needs of the players. With more and more continental managers coming to the UK this was a trait that they brought with them. A few years ago, it was not even a consideration, those days it was fast becoming the norm. I would have to talk to the Head Chef whoever he was.

Another adjustment I had yet to fully make was to the different dress code that went with the new job. As a Coach, it was normal to done a tracksuit and trainers which took seconds and the number of creases in the apparel was immaterial.

As Manager I had to be fully booted and suited, including tie, at all times. Who I would meet, and where, throughout the course of a normal working day was very much in the hands of the gods. I was however expected to look the part at all times.

As I dressed, I quickly reviewed the contents of the wardrobe and made a mental list of my tailoring requirements for Saturday. It was quite a list.

I was in the office by eight pleased to see a bright eyed and bushy tailed Pauline ready with my coffee. I had that first cup with her and during the conversation asked her to make an appointment with the Chef at his/her convenience.

Collecting the second cup, I then moved into my office.

I had barely settled myself behind the desk when Pauline buzzed through with a ‘request’ to meet with Shinawatra and other Directors in the Board Room. For ‘request’ insert ‘order’ was my first thought.

In the Board Room Shinawatra introduced me to the Executive Chairman, Garry Cook, the Life President, Sidney Rose, and a couple of Directors, Bryan Bodek and Panthongtae Shinawatra.

Then followed a period of inconsequential social chat over coffee that did nothing to reduce the pile of files on my desk. During a chat with both Shinawatra’s I managed to mention yesterday’s memo.

“Ah yes. We had been discussing that earlier,” said the Chairman. “It was not my intention that you be blocked entirely from contract negotiations with existing players. Anyone currently on our books that I considered worth retaining could certainly be offered a new deal, but no more than one or two years at the most. Anyone not worth retaining could be offered to clubs, transfer listed and/or simply allowed to see out their current deals should there be no interest from other clubs. What you are not allowed to do was to enter into negotiations with, or sign, any new players. That fell within the remit of whoever was in charge on 1st June.”

With that cleared up, I spent the next half hour trying to extract myself from the room, which I eventually achieved. Back in my office I returned to reviewing yesterday’s lists offering new deals where appropriate. As to the dross I instructed Pauline to start the removal procedure by offering them to clubs, any offers made by clubs would be accepted. Those raising no interest of any kind would be transfer listed.

With that achieved, I felt a bit better. I also felt more like a Manager than I did under the previous conditions. At least now, I could shape the destiny of some of the team.

I buzzed through for more coffee and handed over the printouts with my instructions to Pauline when she arrived.

Manchester City First Team Squad.

Of the 33 strong squad, four were currently on loan. Of those Giorgos Samaras, a striker at RFC Liege was the only one worth retaining. His current deal was in force until 2010 so I had nothing to do there.

The other three Matthew Mills, Marc Laird and Daniel Sturridge would all return from loan to find themselves transfer listed and in the Reserve Squad. I noted their files accordingly for Pauline’s attention.

Michael Ball, Shaleum Logan, Gary O’Neil, Iliasu Shilla. Ishmael Miller, Bernardo Corradi, Sun Jihai, Ashley Grimes and Kelvin Etuhu were all, according to their files, of no great use to the first team squad.

As a consequence I Marked them all up for listing and relegated them all to the Reserve Squad.

As I did so I realised that I might have to call upon their services towards the end of the season. Injuries and tiredness had a bad habit of biting you in the ass when least expected. I would cross that particular bridge when I came to it. A spell in the reserves might just be the tonic they all needed.

I dropped the files I had completed so far into Pauline collecting a coffee as I did so.

The Chef would see me at lunchtime in the Executives Lounge. About the only free time he had was when people had just finished eating and the pots were being washed. That suited me fine. We could chat over coffee.

Pauline also produced a, thankfully small, list that was a series of calls from old friends, in and out of the game, offering their congratulations on my appointment to the hot seat.

I said I would start returning the calls once I had finished with the player files. I had no wish to spend hour’s gas bagging on a telephone so I suggested that she fit a few in at a time when I had a gap in my schedule. I did not mind if it carried on into tomorrow or the day after.

“How much progress have you made Jim?”

“Thirteen down, twenty to go.”

I drained my cup and returned to my empire to carry on with the familiarisation process.

Possibly, because I had now reached the better players the procedure was easier and quicker than before. The hard bit for me was to dispel any preconceived notions when I reached a familiar name. I decided to ‘go with the experts’ in their assessment despite the fact that the majority of the reports had been written by people no longer at the club. If they were wrong, it would show up on the football field and I could take action

I managed to work through about a dozen before lunch.

Once Pauline and I had reached the coffee stage of lunch we were joined by the Chef.

It transpired that Sven had already raised the subject of dietary control with him, but had never actually followed it through by setting anything up.

As there was already a reasonable catering presence at the Training Ground all the Chef needed to do was to appoint a Chef in charge of playing staff food. This he was happy to do at my convenience. We arranged for that event to start on the coming Monday.

I was pleased to have ticked an important box.

From speaking to the Chef, I made a quick trip to the Training Ground where, in consultation with Eric and other members of staff, I selected a team for tomorrows match. With that accomplished, it was back to the factory.

Back in the office I started by returning a few of the calls Pauline had received.

Bobby Robson, Sir Bobby I suppose was, as ever, generous with his praise advising me to ‘keep it simple’ and I would be all right.

Glenn Hoddle, who had been unemployed since leaving Wolves in 2006, was just as generous with his congratulations as Sir Bobby had been.

Blackburn Rovers Manager, Mark Hughes, was another good friend I had known for years. He had often tried to coax me away from City with no success. As usual, I expressed my surprise that he was still at Blackburn. His answer was always the same.

“I like it here.”

I was sure that during his five-year tenure other clubs had tried to hire him. The fact that he was still in place spoke volumes about his loyalty to the club.

Deciding that enough was enough I was soon engrossed in the files again.

About an hour after my afternoon break, I had studied all the files without moving anybody into the Reserve Squad. I had a twenty-one strong First Team Squad including one on loan, provided we managed to stay clear of serious injury or suspensions I reckoned that we had enough players to see out the season.

On paper, the undoubted stars of the show were defender Vedrun Corluka, midfielders Valon Behrami, Martin Petrov, Riga and Elano along with striker Rolando Bianchi.

Provided their paper statistics transferred to deeds on the field, we should avoid the relegation trap.

I could not see this team breaking into any of the top four positions but an entry to a European Competition was not beyond the realms of possibility. All we needed for that was a decent run.

As I studied the squad, I realised that I was probably doing the same as Sven and Tord had done at the beginning of the season. What gave me the right to think that I could better their on-field performances?

[JimT]

Saturday 28th February 2009.

After my normal leisurely start to my day, I was at the Training Ground watching everybody being put through their paces by a fast settling in new staff.

Eric had our chosen squad for today’s match off to one side where they were practising various dead ball situations. They seemed relaxed and happy with their lot in life.

When Eric was satisfied that they had mastered the new drills he moved them on to more familiar territory by leading them through what was more or less warm up exercises. There was no point in straining anything on a match day.

Before I left to collect Pauline, I had them gather round when I told them that they would not see much of me this evening in the Dugout. I preferred to watch this first match from my bird’s eye view balcony. Any instructions or changes would be relayed to them via the intercom and Eric.

Pauline actually had a flat in Ashton-under-Lyne, which was not that far from our stadium, or my gaff, for that matter. I arrived about tem minutes early but Pauline must have been looking out for me as she soon came tripping out of the block.

Having already explained the programme for the day to Pauline earlier in the week we had decided to start with a pub lunch somewhere close to her home thereby missing all the Manchester City Centre traffic. She guided me to a local pub, which at this time of day on a Saturday was quiet, but was still able to serve food from an extensive menu.

The food was good and the company even better.

Arriving after lunch at my flat to meet the tailor I told Pauline to explore to her heart’s content while I got the coffee on the go. This she did and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself.

We had barely finished our drinks when the tailor arrived. Suggesting that he do all the measuring first thereby enabling us to relax while we discussed my requirements including styles, colours etc. I just gave myself up into his hands. He was the resident expert after all.

With all the measuring done, I discovered another expert in Pauline. She was familiar with men’s fashion’s, the ‘in’ colours, and, before too long I had an order list made up of several suits, a couple of top coats, a sheepskin jacket, a blazer complete with Manchester City Badge, four pairs of shoes, a few pairs of casual trousers, a mountain of short and long sleeved shirts, and enough underwear and socks to keep an army going for a week. I was impressed with her attention to the small details of the order that I would never have thought of. Matching belts for the trousers, and a tie to go with each long sleeved shirt were added to the list.

I think I made a mistake when I told her that the club was paying. She still managed to bring it all under budget though.

One last item we both forgot was added at the suggestion of the tailor. A Dinner Suit complete with all the trimmings. Working at a club of the stature of Manchester City I was bound to need one sooner or later.

Surprisingly the whole thing was completed by just after two fifteen, which gave us plenty of time to get to the Stadium for the match.

Arriving at the Boardroom about half an hour before kickoff, we were met and made very welcome by Shinawatra. Ask how I intended watching the match I repeated my bird’s eye view statement to the team earlier. “A lot depends upon how the team perform. I am flexible enough to be in the Dugout in minutes if required.”

He seemed to approve.

As I had indicated to Pauline earlier the room was absolutely swimming with food and drink and we nibbled to our heart’s content.

Eventually I excused myself saying that I would catch up with her in the office before going off to tend to my team in the Dressing Room.

Robert Enke was our ‘no contest’ starter between the sticks while Valon Behrami was in a similar position at right back. As the only and at that barely, left back on our books Michael Ball was not in the Reserve Squad all that long. I left him on the Transfer List though. The two centre backs were Richard Dunne and Vedran Corluka, on paper the outstanding candidates.

Riga started on our right wing while Huszti appeared on the left. Elano and Michael Johnson occupied both central midfield berths.

Rolando Bianchi and Ishmael Miller both started as our strikers.

On the bench, I had Isaksson as backup goalkeeper, Shilla as a defender, Perrin and Ireland as spare midfielders and Petrov doubling as a midfield/striker reserve.

We all figured that this team was as good a start place as any. No doubt, some changes would be made as we went along.

Manchester City v Blackburn Rovers. Premier League.

A cool dry day and a capacity 48,000 crowd greeted both teams as they hit the field. The first five minutes laid down the ground rules. Rovers were defending and hoping to hit us on the break while we, as the home team, were going all out for the jugular from the start.

Rolando Bianchi scored the first goal of my term in charge. An unstoppable shot after some excellent team play put him in the shooting position.

A few minutes before the half time whistle I moved to the Dressing Room making sure that Pauline was content before I left.

M half time talk was the ‘more of the same’ variety while warning them that no team under the leadership of Mark Hughes would lie down or roll over. The players seemed to be happy enough with their efforts so far.

The second half developed into a bit of a battle as Rovers came slowly out of their shell.

In the 78th minute, Michael Johnson had to be substituted with Martin Petrov after an accidental full flight collision.

Some seven minutes later, Riga, running on to a pass by Petrov, was tripped in their box by Bertrand. The referee had no hesitation in pointing to the spot.

Huszti stepped up and we were 2-0 to the good.

Matt Derbyshire pulled one back just before full time, but it was far too late for Blackburn.

Manchester City 2 – 1 Blackburn Rovers

The Aftermath.

Later, after seeing Pauline into the Board Room and talking to my staff and team in the Dressing Room, I was sitting in my office enjoying a glass of wine with Mark Hughes. His only gripe was a claim for handball by Dunne early in the second half.

I gave him the same reply that I had given the TV Crews. “Well I have seen them given for less but I think it would have been unjust. I doubt that anybody could seriously suggest it was deliberate. More ball to hand I would say.”

Once Mark had left I joined Pauline in the Board Room where there was still quite a crowd. As we had a couple of hours, if not longer, to kill we contented ourselves with coffee and a few nibbles speaking to whoever was so inclined.

As people drifted away, we moved back to the office where I got the plasma up and running, chucking the remote to Pauline. I dug out a couple of clean glasses as Pauline Channel hopped and finished off the wine that Mark and I had started earlier.

With Pauline comfortable in an armchair, I sat behind my desk and contemplated the match and our performance.

I was very happy with the three-point start to my managerial career. I was particularly pleased with the performance of Robert Enke in goal. He had earned a well-deserved Man of the Match Award mainly due to his second half performance. It was not a case of him singlehandedly keeping Rovers at bay, the defence in front of him had performed adequately enough by breaking up the majority of their attacks.

Overall, I thought that adequate was possibly the best way to describe the performance of the whole team. I was aware though that against a better, more attack minded, outfit, it could easily have been a different story.

My problem was that there was not a lot I could do about it before my current contract ran out.

I opened m eyes as I dispensed with the football thoughts and watched whichever programme it was that Pauline had finally latched on to.

As the programme ended, she turned to me saying, “I suppose you would like to see what the rest of the world has to say about your team?”

“Well it would be nice to see if the ‘experts’ agree with my valuation.”

As she flicked through the channels she asked, “And what was that?”

“Adequate. Five, maybe six, out of ten.”

She flicked through the various Sports Channels eventually settling on one that was running through today’s Premier League games. It took a while but eventually the Manchester v Blackburn game was featured.

As well as showing the highlights of the match, the assembled pundits soon dispelled any penalty claims Blackburn may have had with Dunne’s ball to hand. Well at least that is settled I thought.

The collective verdict on our performance was not so good. The result was credited to Blackburn not playing to their full capability. The experts were still puzzled by the continuing lack lustre performances being turned in by my players. The team that had promised so much last season was just not performing to its full capabilities.

To a man, they classed the rectification of that state of affairs as my top priority if the club was to avoid relegation.

By now, it was as near time to move to the restaurant as made no difference. We drew some funny looks from the security staff leaving the ground this late. “I think Pauline that your reputation is now in tatters while mine has gone up no end.”

“Typical chauvinist pig attitudes.”

I laughed.

Although Pauline had eaten in the Chaophraya before I think the meal had been limited to the sit in equivalent of a take away. Probably a Green Curry or some fish dish. I, on the other hand, was a semi-regular diner and was recognised as I pulled up outside the entrance. My car was instantly whipped off to some hidden car park. Pauline was again impressed.

After a warm up drink in the small bar area we were shown to our secluded table where we could enjoy our food and each other’s company in relative privacy.

While I had eaten the Royal Set Menu before, this was Pauline’s introduction to the dish. She was amazed as different dishes kept appearing over the next two hours. The different flavours were very well thought out and, when the palate needed refreshing, along came the very dish to do that.

Time was of no consequence here. You were actually encouraged to take your time over each dish with some even being presented in different parts.

All together, an entirely different eating experience.

At the end, Pauline was surprised that she was still sober considering all the different wines, drinks and sauces that had formed a part of some dishes.

Eventually it was time to go and my car appeared at the front door like magic.

I considered the ‘your place or mine’ approach but decided that still to be a bit premature. We were not that close – yet. Getting there – but not yet.

[JimT]

Monday 2nd March 2009.

As a day in the life of Jim Thomson, yesterday virtually didn’t exist. I stayed in bed until gone ten then, when I finally crawled out, spent the rest of my waking hours eating, drinking coffee and watching TV.

A thoroughly enjoyable day.

This morning, after an initial coffee with Pauline, I grabbed a second cup and headed for my office.

So far, the only comment she had made on Saturday was to thank me again for ‘a wonderful day’. She had thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing, particularly the shopping. “It has been a long time since I was shopping for men’s things, and that dinner just topped everything off.”

I made the pretty standard ‘we will do it again sometime’ comment and left it like that.

It wasn’t that I did not like the woman, nor that I found her unattractive, it was just that with my future here anything but secure, I had no wish to complicate things further with any female involvements. Whether that resolve lasted as long as Kay’s absence was another story.

Sabino Padilla had submitted an Injury Report on Michael Johnson. He was suffering from bruised ribs, but should be fit for selection for our next game away at Hull this coming Sunday.

Crystal Palace faxed an offer to loan Bernardo Corradi for a month. As they would pay 100% of his wages, I accepted the offer. As a safety measure, I did include a recall clause.

Sunday 8th March 2009.

Once again, in conjunction with the other staff, I selected the team on the Friday morning. I intended making the Saturday a repeat of my previous Sunday.

I resisted the temptation to experiment a bit by including a couple of new faces and stuck with the same starting eleven as last week, including a now fit again Johnson.

Hull City v Manchester City.

It did not take too long to see why Hull were firmly entrenched bat the bottom of the table and slowly being detached. They were terrible.

The most disappointing feature of our early game was that, in spite of the poor opposition we appeared incapable of finding the net. It took us over half an hour to score – and that was a soft penalty converted by Riga.

Once we found the route to goal though it was all downhill for Hull. Bianchi in 39 and Riga again with a second from open play in 41 saw us run in at the end of the half 3-0 to the good.

How do you reprimand a team that is leading 3-0? The short answer is that you don’t. You just hope and pray that they maintain the initiative, show some decent form and add to the goal tally.

Fortunately, my lot elected to go the more goals route. Riga in 66 and 75 brought his personal tally up to four and the team to a 6-0 lead. Bianchi made a complete hash of a second penalty in the 77th minute.

Somehow or other Hull managed to slip one in during time added on but it was no more than a token gesture.

Hull City 1 – Manchester City 5.

The Aftermath.

The after match TV interview was reasonably painless. We had after all won the game fairly easily and picked up another three precious points. The interviewer was more interested in any news of Sven but I was unable to oblige him.

Commiserating with Hull manager Phil Brown in his office later was a much harder task. What do you say to a man who has just seen his team soundly beaten, is staring relegation in the face, and could even be unemployed in a few weeks. The answer is not a lot.

Monday 9th March 2009.

Enjoying my first work coffee of the day in Pauline’s office, we just chatted socially for a while.

If I had expected any recriminations from our date and my lack of follow up then I was disappointed. Perhaps I had failed some sort of personal test applied by her. As it happened because of my current circumstances, I was not overly bothered.

I had no qualms about loitering in her office. At this stage of the season, you could virtually throw away the fax machine and the telephone. Player movements were, to put it mildly, minimal at best. Besides nobody would actually move until the start of the next transfer window in July.

Even if my ability to sign any players had not been restricted by my contract, this early I was not inclined to make any moves anyway. There were two reasons for this.

Firstly, until we were mathematically confirmed as being a Premier Club next season, or even better, qualified for a European Competition, the better players would not join us. I was not in the business of signing players of an equal or lesser quality then those already on our books.

The second reason was purely selfish. Although it was very early days yet, there was no word, or even the slightest rumour, from the Boardroom about renewing my contract. I was not about to improve Manchester City as long as there was the remotest possibility that I might be in opposition to them next season. I loved the club – but not that much.

Eventually I moved into my own office and tackled what little paperwork there was.

Riga had not just scored four goals on Sunday he had broken the modern day club record for most goals scored in a match. The previous record holder was on loan Samaras with three in a match against Blackpool.

Crystal Palace withdrew their loan offer for Corradi.

Hucknell Town in the Blue Square North League wanted to extend the loan of Vladimir Weiss by an additional month. As he had made fifteen appearances for them, they were obviously making good use of him. I accepted their offer. The final decision was down to Weiss now.

Saturday 14th March 2009.

Mark Chambers had turned seventeen today and was eligible for a professional contract. As he was already earmarked for release, there would be no such offer from me.

Manchester City v Watford.

For the third game on the trot, we fielded an unchanged eleven. This was a match where we should have seen Watford off with no trouble. In quality terms, our players were streets ahead of them.

From the kick off our superiority was demonstrated by us pining the opposition firmly in their own half. We mounted attack after attack but we were continually foiled by their goalkeeper who was having one of those games where he could do no wrong.

The one exception to our superiority was Bianchi who never really got going. He continually made the wrong decision, running when he should have stayed still and vice versa. In short, he was having a nightmare of a game.

Even with a spluttering Bianchi, we were still confident and a fluke goal by Bangura for Watford in the 18th minute did nothing to dent our confidence.

During the interval, I put Miller on in place of Bianchi, a move that initially made little difference.

Watford had by now adopted an all out defensive stance that, in spite of our superior skills, we had difficulty in breaking down. On the rare occasion, we did get through to their area there was Lee, their goalkeeper, still in magnificent form.

With three minutes to go we managed to win a corner which Riga took finding Miller in the clear. One half volley later and we were level pegging.

In spite of our continuing efforts, we were unable to secure the winner.

The fact that Lee secured the Man of the Match Award was testament to our superiority.

Manchester City 1 – Watford 1.

[tenthreeleader]

Jim has an intriguing combination of common sense v mercenary, which makes the character a lot of fun to read. As always, well done!

[JimT]

Monday 16th March 2009.

Sitting in my office over coffee with Eric Black in attendance, we spent some time discussing the performance of the team on Saturday. Against Watford, there was no doubting the superior skills inherent in my team. The problem was that the individual players were not applying their skills to the full extent. On paper, we looked very good but on the ground, we were not the real deal. When Watford shut up shop, we did not have the necessary guile to open them up and acquire the points.

We were not a sandwich short of a picnic; we were half a loaf short.

Eric and I had been friends for years and each completely trusted the other. He fully appreciated the position I was in at the club and had every sympathy for the predicament I was in regarding the status of my contract.

“You do realise Jim that if you are not offered a new deal here you will be finished at this club?”

“Yes Eric, I was aware of that before I signed on the dotted line. I could not go back to coaching either here at City or anywhere else for that matter. It would have to be a management post if I wanted to remain in football.”

“I suppose Kay is out there looking for you?”

“Well it is very early days Eric. Two wins and a draw is not the kind of performance that will have clubs beating her door down for my signature. Not only will I have to maintain those kinds of results but also I will have to avoid relegation before they even start sniffing the air. I can also appreciate Kay’s difficulties in getting me a new position. Having spurned so many opportunities to move both as a player and as a coach, I am perceived as a Manchester City man through and through. In many respects, they are not all that wrong either. We will just have to wait and see.”

We continued discussing the players for a while before deciding to field the same team as Saturday for our next match against Liverpool on Wednesday night.

With that decision made, Eric went off to the training ground to try to spark some life into our reluctant stars.

As for me well I just buzzed for more coffee - what else, and settled down to working my way through a mini-pile of paperwork.

Long term injured right back, Nedum Onuoha had started light training again. Although he was best described as adequate, he would eventually give me some right back options.

Bobby Hope had completed scouting Scotland. He only had one highly recommended player. Twenty-eight years old French central midfielder Benoît Pedretti was a £4.9M valued player currently on a long-term contract at Glasgow Celtic. Hope rated him as being ‘on a par’ with Elano, which was praise indeed. I placed him on our short list.

I faxed Hope assigning him to Italy to scout for more players.

A memo invited the club to apply for the single Euro Vase place for next season. I forwarded that on to Shinawatra. Next season – his decision.

Reserve team central defender Sam Williamson was wanted on loan by Blue Square North Nuneaton Borough. I accepted their offer for the listed player.

That afternoon Tommy Söderberg rang me saying that he had been approached by struggling Championship side Plymouth to be their new manager. Tommy was an excellent Youth Team Coach and I had no desire to lose him. We talked it over for a while before I offered him a new deal, which included a £1000 per week pay increase. He promised to think it over for a couple of days but not make any final decision until we had spoken again. I could not ask for more than that.

Wednesday 18th March 2009.

While not exactly dreading our visit to Anfield it was definitely something I was not looking forward to. The talent at Liverpool’s disposal was more than enough to knock most teams out of sight, let alone a struggling to find form Manchester City.

In spite of this, I believed that, provided everybody played to their full capability, we could at least give them a game. Whether my players were up to that was a different matter. Bianchi, in particular, had struggled against Watford but there was nobody near his standard of play that I could confidently start in his place.

If he had another mediocre game then Miller would again come into play. It was a case of wait and see who turned up, the star or the journeyman.

Liverpool v Manchester City.

Anfield was its usual intimidating place. You could hear the crowd and the anthems in the dressing room. Fortunately, that did not seem to be having any adverse effect upon my players.

I had been wondering about which players would turn up for the game. I had my answer within five minutes of the kick off. The Manchester team on the pitch wanted to beat Liverpool. They were made to work hard just barely surviving a couple of good chances we had in the first twenty minutes.

In spite of that good showing Liverpool ran in off the field at the end of the half 4-0 to the good, thanks to a brace of excellent goals by Torres and Borodin. My team had not rolled over though, they were still trying.

In the dressing room, I tried to rally the troops by saying that nobody on the planet could have prevented their goals. “Those guys will play all season and never reach the heights they have today. It is a one off performance that everybody has every so often.”

I went to great lengths to say that we were doing well in spite of the score line, and that we actually had Liverpool worried on a few occasions.

The words worked.

In the second half Liverpool barely got a kick at the ball. We dominated the field of play and Borodin and Torres might as well have stayed in the dressing room, as they never got a sight of the ball let alone a kick.

With ten minutes to go, we had reduced the deficit to one goal via strikes from Riga and an on fire Bianchi with two goals.

Unfortunately, in spite of some tremendous pressure, that was as close as we got.

At the end, I told to players to stay out and acknowledge the fans. Not just ours either. The Liverpool fans appreciated good football when they saw it and realised that today their team had been lucky.

A small consolation maybe, but a consolation nonetheless.

Liverpool 4 – Manchester City 3.

[JimT]

Jim has an intriguing combination of common sense v mercenary, which makes the character a lot of fun to read. As always, well done!

I've been called many things in my life but mercenary is a new one.

Makes a change I suppose.

[JimT]

Thursday 19th March 2009.

After the match last night, I had spent some time in his office with Rafa Benítez Liverpool’s manager.

Although he was polite and swift to congratulate me on my team’s performance, I was obviously talking to a very troubled man. Possibly the reported rumours of behind the scenes problems between him and the American owners were actually based on fact. I did not pursue my thoughts though. That was his business, not mine. I had enough troubles of my own without involving myself in somebody else’s problems.

The following morning after a good night’s sleep, I enjoyed my first working coffee with Pauline in her office. I actually asked her if she fancied going out to dinner again and was pleased at her affirmative reply. Due to International commitments, we actually had a free weekend at the end of this week.

“Do you fancy making a day of it again?”

“I don’t see why not, but this time it is my turn for the retail therapy. You might not enjoy that.”

Making no comment, we proceeded to arrange for me to pick her up at two on the Saturday afternoon.

Carrying my second cup into my office, I was just in time to take a call from Porsche’s Bolton Dealership. My new car was ready for collection anytime today. We had already arranged that they would purchase my old one so it looked like a smooth transition. I wondered if today counted as a £1000 day or did I have to ‘make do’ with £18,000. An intriguing thought. Whatever the outcome of that it was still the easiest money I had ever earned in my life.

There was an enormous pile of paperwork to be seen to but before I tackled it, I spent some time contemplating my position so far.

In spite of the decent run of results since taking over, other games had conspired against us and we were still entrenched in the centre of the league table. With seven games to play, we were on 38 points only five clear of Wigan currently occupying the top relegation spot. They were building a bit of a cushion between themselves and the other two relegation zone clubs though.

In the opposite direction, we were 13 points adrift of Reading in the last European Qualification place.

With Manchester United and Arsenal still to come the outcome of my management career at City was far from settled.

Dismissing the conjecture from The Brain I began to tackle the paper pile.

The first fifteen or so sheets politely informed me that no club was interested in the named players I had put out to offer. Working my way through the names, I was not surprised at the reaction. Nobody in his right mind would want any of those guys.

The Chiefs on High informed me via a memo that the Free Transfer market would close in seven days time. Once I had worked my way through the remaining paper, I thought that I had better have another look at the market. Somebody worthwhile may have been added or slipped through the net.

A second memo, this time from Shinawatra, informed me that we had applied for the European Vase vacancy. The results of that would only interest me if I was still I the seat on 1st July.

Bernardo Corradi was raising a bit of interest in the market. Avellino, Rostock, Bari, Spezia, Modena, Frosinone, Vicenza, Pisa and Rimini had all offered him a contract. None of them were willing to part with any money though. They were all Bosman offers.

Dorchester made an offer of £5,000 for listed Under 18 left back, Christopher Chantier. They also offered £11,000 for Defensive Midfielder Andrew Tutte, also an Under 18 player. I gladly accepted and gave them permission to talk to the players.

Sam Williamson, also listed, a Reserve Centre Back, was another player creating interest from a few clubs. Shelbourne, Colchester, Leyton Orient and Sheffield Wednesday all met our valuation of the player and I accepted all the bids granting the necessary permissions at the same time. About half a dozen other clubs all made bids that were substantially below his value. I rejected all such bids, I just could not be bothered entering into negotiations.

Another £11,000 offer was tabled for the services of Vladimir Weiss from Chester, Cambridge City, Dagenham & Redbridge and Mansfield. Again, I accepted and granted the necessary permissions’. Clyde, Morton, Livingstone and St Johnstone all offered him a deal under the Bosman ruling. Looking at the clubs involved, I could not see us earning any cash from his transfer.

Tommy Söderberg accepted my offer of a new contract. He would now be with us until 2012.

Friday 20th March 2009.

Today it was a case of one staying and one leaving.

Joe Hart totally rejected the idea of him going on loan to Bury or anywhere else for that matter. He was quite vehement with his refusal.

Sam Williamson agreed terms with Sheffield Wednesday and would join them on 1st July with an initial £60,000 coming in the other direction.

The remainder of the day passed quickly and quietly.

Reminding Pauline that I would collect her at two tomorrow I was soon headed for home.

[tenthreeleader]

All managers are mercenaries, Jim ... otherwise we wouldn't sign contracts. I hope the day with Pauline goes well!

[JimT]

All managers are mercenaries, Jim ... otherwise we wouldn't sign contracts. I hope the day with Pauline goes well!

Down boy. It's not like that - I think.

[JimT]

Have I just accidently cracked my Font Size problem?

[JimT]

Saturday 21st March 2009.

Remembering to switch off the alarm last night did nothing to overcome old habits. I was awake at seven as usual but did no more than roll over and get myself comfortable again. The sleep lasted until almost ten this time and I lazily took my time at getting up and starting the day.

By twelve, I was 100% with it and eager to go. The trouble was I had nowhere to go until two. I passed some time with a phone call to Mum and Dad at home. As it had been Christmas since my last visit, we all had a bit of catching up to do.

By half twelve I left the flat and walked round the corner to my bank where I topped up my wallet with a few hundred pounds. In spite of carrying a multitude of plastic, in some situations there was no substitute for cash.

While in the branch, I had an on screen look at my account. I had not been paid for the day I collected the car but the £18,000 addition made good reading. Overall, the weekly addition of £58,000 was not doing me any harm either. No wonder the Manager smiled at me.

I then spent about a half hour so so programming into the new Sat Nav my regular addresses. I considered adding on the addresses of all the clubs in the Premier but thought that might be tempting fate a bit.

By now, it was as close to picking up Pauline time as made no difference so I started up and drove round to her place.

Surprisingly she was waiting outside for me.

“No, you’re not late. I just thought that parking in the City Centre would not be easy so I rang for a cab and was just waiting on him to hold until you arrived. You can park over there.”

Very considerate I thought.

Once parked and back with Pauline the cab duly arrived and whisked us off to the delight’s of female retail therapy.

I was determined not to complain too much – if at all.

Some two hours, several stores later, and I was doing my impression of a mobile baggage cart at an airport. There always seemed to be ‘just one more’ thing to buy.

With the amount of bags I was carrying finding a seat in a cafe or restaurant was virtually impossible so Pauline, apparently satisfied with her shopping, suggested grabbing a cab and heading for her place. I thought that was a brilliant idea as I was by now well into the throws of coffee withdrawal symptoms.

Pauline’s flat was a similar size to mine, just as neat and tidy, but had what mine lacked, the personal touch, or should that be the woman’s touch.

Saying so as she was making the coffee she remarked that she wouldn’t mind coming round and weaving her magic on the place if I wanted.

“Six months or a year ago I would have ripped your arm off accepting that offer. With my current situation I’ll have to take a rain check on it, as I might not even be here after May.”

“Oh! I had forgotten about that. I think that you are doing reasonably well so far and I know lots of people who agree with me.”

“Unfortunately your friends and acquaintances’ are not the people who make the decisions around here.”

By now, we were both comfortably seated drinking the magic brew.

“You don’t really think Shinawatra will let you go, do you?”

“Hard to say, but I remember when I first met him with some of the senior Directors we were discussing new players. At that time, he referred to that as the problem of whoever would be in charge on 1st June. That told me that I was not considered a candidate on that particular day. So far, I have seen or heard nothing that would lead me to believe that he has changed his mind.

“Oh dear. What will you do then?”

“That is very much in the hands of my agent, Kay. She will be presenting my case to any Chairman looking for a new manager as and when she gets the news. It is very early days yet but I would need some decent results over our last seven games to even be considered by anybody, let alone a decent club.”

“Do you have any say in the choice of club and do you have any particular preference?”

“Yes definitely. The final choice of club is mine to make, but in making that decision, I would be guided by Kay and possibly a few others whose opinion I respect. As to preference well Man U or Arsenal will do me.”

She laughed at my obvious humour.

“If I am forced to leave Pauline what do think will happen to you? I assume that you have some preferences?”

“Well I would not like to return to the typing pool. That would be a definite step down. I am also aware that I am pretty new at this P.A. lark and I would be lucky to be retained by whoever the new man would be. Similarly I would be unlikely to be transferred to work with another Director.”

“So where does that leave you?”

“Either on the dole or, if you wanted me, I could come with you if it was possible.”

“Well I am flattered Pauline. I did not think that you thought that much of me either as a boss or as a man.”

“Well now you know, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t think the dole would suit you. As to coming with me, I have no objections. You have certainly showed me in the relatively short time we have worked together that you have enough about you to do a good job. Yes there is a lot to learn yet but I’m confident that you will get there.”

“Thank you.”

“Whether I am able to take you with me or not is an entirely different matter. A lot will depend upon whichever club I end up with. They might not be able to afford a P.A.”

“More hands of the gods stuff then.”

“I’m afraid so Pauline.”

From there the conversation turned to what do we do with the remainder of the day. Eventually we settled on the early showing of a film that Pauline wanted to see at the local Virgin Complex followed by dinner at a yet unknown restaurant.

We were able to get a waitress served box at the cinema where we made good use of the drinks and nibbles on offer. The film was not too bad as I remember. A cross between a war film and a romance.

As it was a Saturday night and we had not booked anywhere, our choice of restaurant was strictly limited. Eventually we ended up in a reasonable Peking Chinese Restaurant that served reasonable food from a pretty extensive menu.

In the cab back to Pauline’s flat, I explained that I had perhaps a bit too much to drink to drive home so I detached my car key from the ring and handed it to her.

“Drive over to mine tomorrow about two. I will cook dinner so you won’t go hungry”

By saying that I forestalled whatever she had been about to suggest and I gave her no option to speak other than to agree.

[JimT]

Have I just accidently cracked my Font Size problem?

Apparently not.

[JimT]

Sunday 22nd March 2009.

After my now normal late start to a non-working day, I had an hour or so to kill before I started preparing the food. I found myself meditating over the work conversation I had with Pauline yesterday. While it was perfectly true to say that she was displaying some talent as a P.A. she was not there yet. Depending where I ended up, assuming it was at a different club, did I want, or need, to bring along a half trained office worker?

On a personal level we got on all right but there was, so far, no chemistry between us. At best, we had a natural curiosity about the other. There was also the rather serious question of the age gap. She could give me at least twenty years and while, in the immediate future, that would not be a problem there would come a time when I would have no desire to be involved in her interests and vice versa.

Definitely food for thought.

My initial reaction was that if I did have to move then I would do so on my own.

Speaking of food.

At least I had enough about me last night to get a joint out of the freezer before going to bed. Now was the time to find out what it was. It turned out to be a boned rolled half leg of lamb, which suited me fine, By now completely defrosted I put it into a baking tin loosely wrapped in foil then switched the oven on to bring it up to temperature.

I still had some new potatoes so I scrubbed them off in water then added them to a pot covered in water. A small tin of garden peas occupied a smaller pot and a few frozen parsnips were laid out on paper defrosting ready to add to the oven tin where they would cook in the juices of the meat.

What with listening to the stereo and bopping about while doing the preparation I managed to kill about a half hour. By now, the oven was up to speed and I had calculated a cooking time of around an hour and a quarter, I liked my meat well done. Popping the meat in the oven, I passed some more time with a coffee before starting to set the table for two, including decanting a full bottle of red wine.

After about a half hour cooking I lifted out the lamb, opened up the parcel and added the parsnips to the juices beginning to flow from the meat. With that lot back in the oven and the final additions put to the table lay out I was as ready as I would ever be.

About twenty to two I put some serious heat under the potatoes hoping that Pauline would not be late as I did so.

I need not have worried. At five to my outside door entry buzzer sounded.

“Hello.”

“Hi Jim. It’s Pauline.”

“Come on up.”

Pressing the entry button, she was in my flat in about a minute handing over my car keys.

After an initial guided tour of the place, apart from the bedroom which was indicated by me simply pointing at the door, she followed me into the kitchen where I began to get things together including dishing up a couple of plate full’s of food.

Dumping the pots etc. into really hot soapy water I carried the plated food through to the table in the Dining Room where we sat and ate.

I am not saying that I excelled myself in the kitchen. I had done better in the past but I had also cooked an awful lot worse. I was glad that today was a good day. Pauline certainly enjoyed it, and said so, expressing surprise as she did.

“The kitchen is not the sole domain of women you know. There are lots of guys like me living on our own and we either have to cook or starve.”

“If this is anything to go by then you will never starve Jim.”

We were almost finished and I had just poured the last of the wine when the phone rang.

I reached across and pressed the Speaker button.

“Hello this is Jim. You are on the Speaker and I have company so watch your language.”

“That’s no way to greet an old friend now is it Jim.”

It was Kay, a fact that I mouthed to Pauline indicating that she could sit still.

“I just thought I would give you a quick ring to bring you up to date, plus I need some feedback from you Jim.”

“OK fire away.”

“Your guest might be bored.”

“I doubt it, its Pauline from the office.”

“Yes I remember the name. Your secretary if I remember rightly.”

“Apart from the fact that I got Shinawatra to bump her up to P.A you’ve got it in one Kay.”

“Congratulations Pauline. You must have really impressed my boy.”

A quiet ‘thank you’ was Pauline’s reaction.

“Right Jim, I know that after a few days in the country your fluent German returns to you but do you know any other languages at any level?”

“Certainly not the important football ones Kay. Italian, Spanish and Portuguese are totally unknown to me. I could not even say ‘hello’ in any of them.”

“OK. How long do you think you would need to learn them to a level where you could communicate with players?”

“Very hard to say Kay. Certainly three months if not longer. If I had a bit of pre-warning I could start before I arrived at wherever and thus be that much more prepared.”

“With only about nine or ten weeks to go on your current deal and the same amount of time to make an impression, that is unlikely to happen Jim.”

“Where the hell are you thinking of placing me?”

“That’s the second part of my update. I have been hawking you around various Chairmen, including on the continent where I have been for the past few days. I have to admit that the initial reaction of most is ‘who?’ You have got a way to go before you appear on their radar. Most remember you as an International player who changed to Coaching at City and a tremendously loyal man who, so far, had no wish to move.”

“That is more or less what I have been saying here to the likes of Eric Black and Bobby Robson.”

By now, Pauline had collected our used dishes and was in the kitchen where I could hear her washing up. Washing up I did not mind, but I hated drying. Good girl Pauline.

“One last thing Jim. You played Liverpool the other day.”

“Yes. We gave them a good game.”

“So I heard. I doubt that you would be aware of it but Hicks and Gillett were at the game and were very impressed with the football played by your team. They want to know what you did to your players at half time so they can bottle it and make a fortune.”

I had to laugh.

“Well they may know little or nothing about football Kay, but at least it sounds as though they have a sense of humour.”

“Not just that Jim, they are both very astute business men. I had a long conversation with them both and they believe that Shinawatra is being distracted from the club by his tax problems back in Thailand.”

“Are they saying that they think I will be released at the end of May?”

“They believe it to be more than likely.”

Now that was news that was not exactly welcome to my ears. It was very difficult for me to imagine myself anywhere else, in any capacity, other than City. That would take some getting used to.

Kay finished up the conversation just as Pauline returned.

Either in her capacity as my P.A or as a friend, I was not sure which; I filled Pauline in on Kay’s activities and thoughts. The whole atmosphere had taken a serious turn as I dwelled on my future. Any thoughts of some sort of sexual adventure with Pauline went straight out the window with Kay’s call.

After an hour or so of me being quiet and engrossed in my thoughts, Pauline asked me to run her home. I was glad to oblige.

Most of that evening I spent on the telephone talking things over with old tried and trusted football friends. Mostly their advice was to keep up the good work at City and things would turn out all right in the end.

Bobby Robson put it best. “Jim at the end of this season Shinawatra will either offer you the permanent Manager post or he won’t. Apart from giving the club your best efforts there is nothing you can do to influence him one way or the other. It may well be that his personal problems are distracting him but, if he allows that to happen, then he is liable to lose the services of a bloody good manager. If you do end up free and available and Kay comes up with a big club then you have two choices. Grab it, or wait for something smaller and continue to build upon your already developing reputation. If it were me then I would take the big one.”

God I wish I had a crystal ball.

[JimT]

It looks as though I am getting there with the Font sizing.

About time too.

[JimT]

AMonday 23rd March 2009.

Although not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed I felt a bit more like my old self when I arrived in Pauline’s office at eight this morning.

Carting my second cup through to my domain, I soon tackled what little paper there was requiring my attention.

Christopher Chantier had accepted the deal on offer from Dorchester, while Bernardo Corradi had accepted that on offer from Rimini. Both would join their new clubs on 1st July.

Part of an interview given by Andreas Isaksson, our back up keeper, said that while he was, and wanted to remain, loyal to City, he needed first team football to maintain, and improve, his skills. He expressed a wish that I would be able to arrange a loan deal that would enable this to happen.

While I had every sympathy with the man, I could not arrange anything if nobody was asking.

I spent an hour trawling through the Free Transfer and Listed by Club list with nobody leaping out and attacking me.

I appeared that even if I wanted to, or was able to sign any players, my choices would be limited to my Scouts listings

I would need a new contract first though.

Thursday 25th March 2009.

The Free Transfer market closed at midnight last night.

Vladimir Weiss agreed terms with St Johnstone and would join them on 1st July.

Sabino Padilla submitted training injury reports on Valon Behrami and Ishmael Miller. Behrami would be out with a torn calf muscle for about four months. A season ending injury. Miller would need three weeks to recover from a pulled hamstring.

Behrami would be the greatest loss.

Erich Beer finished scouting Germany and submitted a list of highly recommended players. I did no more than add the players to my short list en masse before instructing Erich to move on to Brazil.

Another scout with a list of highly recommended players in France that received the same treatment was Christian Karembeu who was told to move on to Argentina.

Saturday 28th March 2009.

Selecting a team for this afternoon’s match against Wigan yesterday presented Eric and I with various options.

Corluka had not been performing at his best for a while now and had been the poorest performer we had on the pitch in the Liverpool match. I was tempted to replace him with Onuoha. Discussing it with Eric we eventually decided to stick with Corluka in the hopes that the extra week off had been of benefit to him.

We needed a right-winger to replace the injured Behrami.

A straight replacement by Stephen Ireland or Perrin was one option. A second choice was to remove Riga from his striking role and play him on the wing thus starting a new strike force.

We went with our second choice, which saw Petrov acting as a striker.

Manchester City v Wigan.

My decisions as to who played where resulted in mixed fortunes for us during the match.

Generally, for the length of time he was on the field, Corluka had a poor game. You could feel the nervousness in him and his teammates every time he got near the ball. It was well founded. A defensive error by him in the 29th minute saw Eremenko crash the ball into our net.

In the second half, another mistake by him saw the ball at the feet of Hall to again chalk one up for Wigan. By then I had seen enough and Corluka was replaced, somewhat belatedly I will admit, by Onuoha.

Fortunately, for us my other decision to play Petrov as a striker paid off. He scored twice in the 1st and 45th minute.

I considered it two points lost.

Manchester City 2 – Wigan 2

Monday 30th March 2009.

In the only other game played on Saturday West Ham thrashed Hull City to confirm them to be the first club to be relegated this season. I was still smarting at our draw against Wigan. It was a game we should have won. The fact that we didn’t was entirely down to me and my late substitution of Corluka, that should have happened a lot earlier in the game.

Looking at our fixture list, we had Manchester United away this coming Saturday followed by Arsenal at home the following week. There were not too many pundits predicting us to take anything from those matches.

Sunday’s games saw Middlesbrough hammered 4-0 by Portsmouth, which confirmed the North East club in a lowly 15th spot. The reaction from their board was virtually instant. Gareth Southgate was sacked that evening.

While you could sympathise with any manager sacked by his club you had to concede that in Southgate’s case his Chairman had been more than patient with him by sticking with him through a long period of poor results thereby allowing him to learn on the job. Not many men in this game were that loyal.

This morning’s newspapers were all full of the Middlesbrough events and of conjecture regarding the new manager’s identity. I was not mentioned anywhere so presumably I had no chance.

Sampdoria submitted a bid of £4.9M for goalkeeper Andreas Isaksson. Goalkeeping was an area in which we were particularly well served so I juggled the figures about a bit and added a sell on clause thus increasing the overall value to £5.5M. It did not matter to me whether they accepted that or not.

Wednesday 1st April 2009.

Michael Johnson was named as Young Player of the Month today, an award he thoroughly deserved.

The English Premier Goal of the Month went to our man Riga for an effort against Hull.

Apart from those two tit bits, I might as well have stayed at home today.

Thursday 2nd April 2009.

With a clutch of games played last night, the table did not make good reading. We were in 13th spot 12 points adrift of European Qualification. I thought that was already unattainable.

We were now 5 points clear of Bolton currently in the last relegation spot, but they had a game in hand over us. If they took maximum points from that game, we would only be 4 points clear of the new third placed team, Wigan.

We were well into squeaky bum time.

Middlesbrough did not hang about in announcing Stuart Pearce as their new manager. Stuart had been unemployed since leaving us in May 2007. I rang him to wish him luck – not at our expense though. I think he appreciated the gesture.

The newspapers were full of reports from inside Everton that the Board there were worried that David Moyes might be considering moving on this summer when his current deal came to an end. They had by all accounts offered him a new deal but that was still lying on the table unsigned.

Among all the usual suspects tipped to succeed him was one Jim Thomson, an up and coming young manager whose deal was due up soon. Young – I was 45 years old for Christ’s sake. I would hardly describe that as being young. One paper actually described me as being high profile. If that was true then it as only because I was in relegation battle, hardly a recommendation for a top job.

I was well aware that nobody had even mentioned the possibility of me joining Everton under any circumstances, but press coverage such as this could only assist me in my preference to stay here at City. Hopefully Shinawatra and my Board read the same newspapers.

Quini submitted his report on Spanish players with a list of highly recommended players. Like all the others before them, they were simply added to the short list. Quini I moved on to Central America.

Friday 3rd April 2009.

Selecting a team for tomorrow’s game with Eric in tow was not difficult. It was not particularly easy either. I was still in charge of a bunch of players who had never performed to their best all season apart from the Liverpool game, and there was no logical explanation for this.

All right, every player in the world has an ‘off’ day but that rarely lasted more than one or two games. Normally such players put the bad performance behind him and were back to normal within a couple or so weeks at worst.

My problem was that my players never seemed to have an ‘on’ day. Those that did were usually in the minority and had little or no effect on the overall performance of the team.

Deciding to accept a lot of the responsibility for this state of affairs on my own head, I vowed to mix things up a bit. I was too late for tomorrow’s game but against Arsenal, that would be a different story.

The first thing I did was to recall Samaras from his loan spell at Liege. Our need was greater than theirs was.

Enke Gk, Onuoha DR, Ball DL, Dunne CD Captain, Kaboul DC, Riga AMR, Petrov AML, Perrin MC, Johnson MC, Bianchi and Elano formed the strike force.

Manchester United v Manchester City.

History will show that on this day United beat us 2-0 with goals from Rooney and Tévez in each half. What it will not show is the way my team played. For the first time I saw flashes of what they were really capable of in terms of playing skills.

We actually beat United in Shots on Goal and Shots on Target. Had it not been for a Man of the Match performance from Van der Sar in their goal we might even have got a result.

Although the signs were encouraging it was still three points we did not get

Giorgos Samaras was waiting for me on my return to the dugout after the half time talk. I was pleased to see him, particularly as he looked very fit and keen to get into the first team squad.

[JimT]

Wednesday 8th April 2009.

Most newspapers this morning carried a story that the Manchester City Board was considering my position at the club. About time too I thought. The story was confirmed when Shinawatra requested that I come to see him at ten that morning.

Had a decision finally been made? A bit early for that I thought thinking about Sven and his illness.

Promptly at ten o’clock, I presented myself in front of one of the many secretaries and was ushered into the Chairman’s office.

After dispensing coffee and getting the normal social and inconsequential chat out of the way, he got down to business.

“Jim you will have seen in some of today’s papers that we are considering your position here at the club. This is something we have to do and will be nothing new to you. I would even suggest that it is not entirely unexpected, if somewhat early. The position you currently occupy will cease to exist on 1st June and from that date we will have a vacancy for a full time Manager at the club.”

So far nothing new or unexpected.

“For the moment, all we are doing is no more than you are already aware of. We have sought Medical opinion regarding Sven and are simultaneously building a short list of candidates that we consider could do a job for us. You are already on that list and, as such, stand as much chance of gaining the position as anybody else.

Now that was new.

“Jim I want you to understand that this is not a formal interview for the position, it is not even an informal one. I wanted you to be in possession of the full facts behind this morning’s stories and to reassure you of your position here at the club.”

“Thank you for the consideration Mr Chairman.”

So far so good. At least he had not said ‘Your Fired.”

“Jim, why do you think we should give you the job?”

Now that was a leading question and a half.

“Although still not a mathematical certainty I cannot see us being relegated. In other words I will shortly fulfil your single requirement to ‘stay in the Premiership’ condition. I have achieved this with the same players that started the season with us but have never really performed to their full capabilities. Under my stewardship they are beginning to show some signs of their true potential.”

Shinawatra was making notes as I spoke.

“I have got all our better players in the First Team Squad and have managed to loan out those showing the most potential. The rest have either left the club, will leave at the end of their contracts or are on the transfer list. Come 1st July we will be a lot leaner and meaner than we have been all season.”

“There are obviously no new players in the pipeline due to the restrictions imposed by my contract. I have not however been inactive on that front. All our scouts have been busy and we are slowly building up a rather impressive short list of suitable players. If I am still in charge next season I would almost certainly make moves to sign at least two or three of them which will give us a much improved team.”

“All of this I have achieved in only seven weeks. Given a decent run at the job I know that I can do better.”

He looked very thoughtful for a while then thanked me for taking the time to see him.

“I assure you Jim that as soon as a decision is made you will be the first to know.”

A fat lot of good that will do if it is to tell me I did not get the job.

Friday 10th April 2009.

Apart from about an hour a day doing paperwork, and the meeting with the owner of course, I had managed this week to spend most of my time on the training pitch with the staff and players.

I had started the week with an inkling of the squad I would field against Arsenal. By today, I was certain.

All week we had spent time having the players work together in small groups getting used to one another where necessary. I also made certain that nobody was playing out of position, which had been a rarity so far this season

By this morning, you could see the results of my efforts. Manchester City was becoming a team.

The defence, despite the United result, had played well together so I kept them intact. Szabolcs Huszti was brought into the centre of the midfield in place of Petrov, while Elano, who had struggled in the striking role, replaced Perrin again in the central midfield but was given a free role.

Samaras took over what had been Elano’s striking role.

Saturday 11th April 2009.

Manchester City v Arsenal.

In the previous fixture at The Emirates, Arsenal had been allowed the time and space they needed to dominate us and had run out 2-0 winners.

Today the boot was on the other foot. We were the ones drawing pretty patterns on the pitch while Arsenal struggled to get the ball away from us. On the few occasions, they did control the football somebody in a light blue shirt would be in their face retrieving the ball.

We looked and played like the team that was lying fourth in the league while Arsenal were made to look like the relegation candidates.

Dunne, Johnson and, with his first goal for the club on his debut appearance, Samaras saw us take a 3-0 lead into the dressing room at half time. I was delighted with the team’s performance and said so.

In the second half, we definitely took our collective foot off the gas pedal without conceding any control of the game to Arsenal.

Wenger was at his wits end marching up and down his technical area shouting different instructions, all of which were to no avail. His team were beaten, and they knew it if he did not.

In the 80th minute, he played his last card by pushing on Theo Walcott who rewarded him with a good solo goal in the 86th minute.

Not to be outdone, and just to rub it in, Bianchi and Samaras each scored again to make the final result 5-1.

After the match Wenger remained locked in the away dressing room with his team and never made it to my office for a glass of wine.

Manchester City 5 – Arsenal 1

Monday 13th April 2009.

Ask any football manager what his least favourite time of the year is and he will always answer Easter and Christmas. All those periods mean to us are games with little recovery time in between.

Having played a full game on Saturday against top opposition we were now required to travel to Middlesbrough two days later.

As much as I would have liked to I did not have enough quality in the squad to rest everybody, or anybody for that matter. In the end, I went with the same squad.

Middlesbrough v Manchester City.

Obviously, the tiredness had its effect on both teams and neither was able to give of their best. The end result was a pretty boring first half that entertained nobody.

My half time team talk concentrated on telling the players to conserve their energy but to have a go at any opportunity.

The opportunities were very few and far between but Bianchi took advantage of the two he was presented with in the 67th and 90th minutes.

Middlesbrough 0 – Manchester City 2

Having a drink with Stuart Pearce later he congratulated me on finally wakening up Sven’s stars. While I appreciated his comments, the statement told me that a lot of people still perceived the squad as Sven’s team – not mine.

That result saw us reach eleventh place in the league on 45 points with three games to play. We were now virtually certain of remaining in the Premier Division. Only a totally freak set of results could relegate us.

[JimT]

Tuesday 14th April 2009.

One piece of good news this morning was a total lack of reports from the Physio Department. It appeared that we had survived the weekend’s efforts with a clean bill of health.

Our Press Office rang me saying that I should issue a statement regarding the presence of Carlo Ancelotti and Mirko Slomka, the managers of AC Milan and FC Shalke 04 respectively as some sports writers had picked up on them and were very curious.

“I am in no position to comment upon the reasons for the presence of the two managers at our game last night as they did not make their presence known to me nor was I informed of any reason for the visit. They were a bit unfortunate in the choice of game. They would have been better entertained on Saturday. I am not surprised at other managers and scouts attending our games. Our players are beginning to perform close to their capabilities and were bound to raise interest in some quarters. Having said that, unless it is a very exceptional offer, nobody is leaving this club on my watch.”

As a statement, you could take it as being as far from, or as close to, the truth as you wanted. It probably bore no resemblance to the reason those men were at the ground. They were just as likely to have been there at the invitation of the club, to have a look at the team prior to any job interview. That was one discussion I was not prepared to enter into until such time as somebody in power made a definite statement.

Richard Martin, our reserve keeper, would return from a loan spell at Alfreton later today. In 22 appearances he had conceded 28 goals and kept 5 clean sheets. Hopefully he had learned something.

Also due back later today was central midfielder Marc Laird with 16 appearances, including 3 assists, for Lincoln City under his belt. He was earmarked for release by us at the end of the season and I saw nothing in any of his reports that would lead me to change my mind.

Friday 17th April 2009.

The good news was that once again we had a free weekend. Anything that allowed my team to rest and regain their strength and fitness had to be welcome.

The bad news was a Physio Report that Michael Ball had torn a groin muscle in training and would be out for two months. A season ending injury.

Ball was the only left back on our books worth the title. Even then, he just made the grade and the spot was high on my list of strengthening needed should I remain at the club. With only three games left to play my sole interest in them was gaining the necessary one point that would ensure us remaining in the league. To help achieve that I needed a left back.

I promoted Sam Williamson from our Reserve Squad to provide cover. As he was leaving us for Sheffield Wednesday on 1st July, I hoped he was professional enough to give us his best. Even that might not be good enough. I had no other available options though.

During the week I had sounded out Pauline regarding us spending some time together over the weekend but she had to decline. She was attending a friend’s wedding on Saturday and had reserved Sunday as a recovery day.

I decided to travel to Norfolk to see my Mum and Dad. Apart from not having spent a great deal of time with them this year I thought the change of scene would do me good.

Friday 24th April 2009.

One week later and I was reading newspapers full of the resurrected ‘Moyes to Leave Everton’ story. How much truth there was in this I could not say but once again, I was discussed as a possible replacement for him at the club. Statements like that could not do me any harm whether anything came of them or not. If nothing else, it was a reminder to Shinawatra and my Board that time was not just passing – it was running out.

Once again, I was in close contact with Eric in selecting a team for Sunday’s match against Reading. Having already set up and prepared Williamson to start as our left back there were no other changes.

Sunday 26th April 2009.

Manchester City v Reading.

Williamson or Ball seemed to make no difference to the team. Although sixth placed Reading made a first half fight of it, they did not really create any large problems for us.

What finally broke their resistance and settled things was the award of a rather soft penalty to us just on half time. Many of the Reading players voiced their disapproval at the decision, which was mainly that of the Assistant Referee. Some voiced their opinions a bit too strongly resulting in yellow cards for Castro, Bikey and Harper.

Elano made his usual good job of converting the penalty into a one-goal lead for us.

My half time talk was the ‘it is time to make our presence felt’ variety. The players seemed pretty confident in their ability to put Reading away having easily controlled the best they had to offer in the first half.

Their confidence was well founded as Samaras with two goals and a sweet strike from Bianchi five minutes from the end settled the issue.

Manchester City 4 – Reading 0

After seeing to the needs of our respective teams and the TV cameras, I enjoyed a drink and a chat with Paul Jewell in my office. Paul had been in charge at Reading for just over a year now and, particularly this season, was beginning to enjoy the fruits of his labours.

Monday 27th April 2009.

If Friday’s papers had been all about me replacing David Moyes today’s did a bit of a role reversal by speculating about my relief.

They were not saying I was going to be sacked they were mainly speculating on the identities of the front-runners in the race to replace me. The majority in fact stated that I had done a good job under the restrictions of my contract. The ‘don’t buy anybody’ clause was well documented. Those papers thought that I had more than earned to right to at least a short-term deal to show what I could do under normal conditions.

If they were to be believed, I was up against some pretty stiff opposition for the job. Mark Hughes, Louis van Gaal and Felix Magath were just three names in the mix.

With our Monthly Board meeting due in a few days, something might break after that.

[JimT]

Friday 1st May 2009.

My last month at the club as Caretaker Manager.

It could also be my last month at the club in any capacity.

I knew that the Board were meeting later on this morning so I hung around the office a bit later than normal should I get a call. I thought that highly unlikely as, if they discussed the management situation at all, it would be done so with no candidates present.

As far as I was concerned, they had a straight choice. Did they, or did they not want to offer me a new deal? If the answer to that was no then they would move on to compile a list of potential candidates. Whether they would consider me for inclusion on that list was out of my control.

I had lunch at the training centre with Eric where, in spite of my preoccupation, it was a matter of seconds to select the same squad for tomorrow’s match away at Newcastle.

As it happened, apart from boosting my chances of staying at the club, the result was not all that important. We were in no danger of being relegated and were just too far behind Reading to leap frog them into a European spot.

Saturday 2nd May 2009.

Newcastle v Manchester City.

Bianchi’s rich form and lethal finishing soon told on Newcastle. His goal tally rose to twenty-one in thirty nine appearances as he grabbed a hat trick at St James’s Park. Needless to say this feat earned him the Man of the match award.

He did not do it all on his own though, the rest of the team played very well both when applying pressure to Newcastle and to keeping them away from danger areas.

Newcastle 0 – Manchester City 3.

Enjoying a drink at Sam Allardyce’s expense later, he was curious as to my contract situation. I told him what I knew, which was virtually nothing.

“For what it is worth Jim, I think you have done more than enough with the tools at your disposal to earn a new deal. If nothing else you will certainly be handing over a team fit for purpose.”

I appreciated his sentiments.

He also informed me that at his Chairman’s request he had entertained David O’Leary, the Manager of the Republic of Ireland, and Carlo Ancelotti the manager of Milan. While David was obviously looking at individual players, Carlo seemed more interested in the teams.

It made me wonder if the City board had been in contact with him and he was running the ruler over the club. Mind you considering Sam’s relationship with the Newcastle fans, which was poor, it could have been either club.

The day’s results ensured that West Brom would join Bristol City in the Championship next season. Bolton and Derby were contesting the remaining spot.

The title was now a closely fought race between five clubs. Arsenal, Liverpool, Manchester United, Chelsea and Everton were all covered by two points and it was all down to the last match of the season. None of them were playing any of the others.

Sunday 10th May 2009.

Manchester City v Sunderland.

Fielding the same team was becoming a habit. At least I thought I had picked the same team. For the first half of the match we were back to our old ways. The skills were still there but we were not using them. Team spirit still had the cork in the bottle.

In the meantime, Sunderland took full advantage of our inability to get our act together and scored twice.

In the Dressing Room, I was furious. “You are a lot better than that. Have you no pride? There are 48,000 fans out there who worship the ground you walk on and you cannot be arsed to string a decent pass together. You should all be thoroughly ashamed of yourselves.”

I ranted on in the same vein for a minute or two before leaving them to stew in their own juices.

The second half started off much the same as the first for about five minutes.

Then somebody threw a switch and we started to play.

Slowly, but steadily, we began to take control until Sunderland were well and truly on the ropes. In the last twenty minutes both Bianchi and Samaras put two away each.

After a very poor start, we had triumphed in the end.

Manchester City 4 – Sunderland 2.

Monday 11th May 2009.

With the season over, we had finished in seventh place, one point behind Reading in the last European spot. Close but not close enough. Considering the position we were in when I took over, I thought we had done well.

Manchester United took the title by a point over Arsenal with Liverpool in third and Everton fourth. Chelsea finished a disappointed fifth.

The only fly in my personal ointment was the lack of contract talks.

Wednesday 13th May 2009.

With still no word from the Boardroom, apart from one short and to the point note, I decided to talk to the troops. I called everybody together at the Training Centre this lunchtime. Pauline came along too.

“Good Afternoon everybody. Thank you all for attending. I have gathered you here to explain a few facts that may explain some of my future actions as they affect you. As you must all be aware my contract as Caretaker Manager at the club expires in about two weeks time. So far, there have been no moves from the Board either to renew the deal or to offer me a different contract as Manager of the club. Under those circumstances, my ability to manage the club as I would like is severely restricted.

I allowed my words to sink in before continuing.

“I have to bear in mind that my existing contract prevents me from signing any new players to the club whose contract would extend beyond 31st May. This ban was extended this morning to include contract extensions, new contracts etc. and I am also prevented from accepting any offers for any player no matter how good that offer may be. The only movement allowed are those under the Bosman ruling. Even if you are in that category and I wanted to keep you, I cannot, as I am unable to offer you a new contract. Those of you who feel that you may have earned a new or better deal are also totally out of luck, no matter what my personal opinion may be. I realise that some of you will be upset at this news and I can perfectly understand why, but there is nothing I can do about it.”

I paused again.

“I am confident that any new manager will review the contracts of each and every one of you. If I am that man then I will do exactly the same. I sincerely apologise to you all for this situation but it is not of my making and unfortunately, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Does anyone have any questions relevant to what I have said?”

There was a murmuring and light chatter as they talked it over. Eventually a woman unknown to me held her hand up.

“Your comments about renewing or not contracts, does that apply to non-football staff?”

I had to think about that one.

“My statements apply to all staff, footballer or not, that work in a department that comes under the heading of “football matters”. As such under that general definition, everybody employed in the Training Centre and the Football Academy come under my control. Outside of those areas, the only person under my control is my Personal Assistant. Does that answer your question?”

A nodded Yes was the reply.

“If there are no more questions, and it would appear not, I have one final duty to carry out.”

“One thing I can do is to decide on the length of your imminent holiday. You are due to break up this coming Sunday until 22nd June. I have just changed that. As soon as we are finished talking here today, your holiday begins. Whatever you are doing over the next few weeks enjoy yourself and come back refreshed ready to start the new season. Hopefully that will be under my guidance but if that is not to be then give the new manager exactly what you gave me and he will be a very lucky man.”

I was treated to some warm applause. I think the extended holiday had something to do with that.

Friday 22nd May 2009.

All week I had stayed in my office. It felt as though I was drinking coffee by the gallon. I ignored as much as I was able the paper that appeared on my desk and I was polite on the telephone. In each case if it was an enquiry about the availability, or an actual offer for, a player, the answer was always a firm no.

With just over a week to go before my contract ran out, all I could do was wait for the Board to make a move.

My problem was that they did not have to move.

[JimT]

Readers of the original Baby Sitting City will realise that it was at this point that the story ended abruptly. At that time, this was mainly due to me not really knowing where to go with it. The decision was further complicated by the change to the boards producing all sorts of coding errors.

Although I had struggled with the game in playing Manchester City, I did enjoy writing the story.

It was that enjoyment, and the encouragement of others, that brought me back to it. In doing so, I had to decide what to do about the coding errors. Eventually I decided upon a rewrite as the best route for me thereby enabling small, but significant changes to the story that had never really sat easy with me.

I hope those changes have not spoiled your enjoyment and that you are interested enough to carry on reading.

As always

Enjoy.

[sarge]

I enjoy my daily fix of both of yor stories....