How to Win Friends and Influence People

[gibbo11]

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Any in-game off-the-field events were generated by the game and no pre-game nor in-game editors were used at any point, other than editor data files to open extra leagues, downloaded via threads on this forum. Any company names are purely fictitious and any link to real-world companies are coincidental. A profile was created to holiday the game into the future and then retired once a date/team had been selected.

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Leagues loaded: England (down to Level 10), France (down to CFA), Italy (down to Serie D), Germany (down to 3. Liga), Spain (down to Segunda Division B), Scotland (down to League 2), Sweden (down to level 4, view-only), China (down to China League One, view-only), Finland (down to Ykkonen, view-only), Netherlands (Eredivisie – view only), Russia (Premier League – view only), Denmark (down to 1^st Division – view only), Portugal (down to LigaPro – view only), Brazil (Serie A– view only), Argentina (Primera Division – view only)

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***THIS STORY CONTAINS SUBJECTS WHICH SOME READERS MAY FIND UPSETTING, READER CAUTION IS ADVISED FROM THE OUTSET***

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“Steve, let me tell you this. I guarantee you that within 6 months, I’ll be able to buy my own sports team.”

It was a bold statement from the American sitting opposite – one I took with a pinch of salt. After all, we both had knocked back a few drinks.

“Look at them,” he said, pointing at our wives. “We’ve lucked out with those two my friend.”

“You're right about that! Cheers!”

Our glasses clinked for a toast to our wives, dancing to the Ed Sheeran's 17th UK number one, Dancing in the Sun.

I’d met my namesake, Steve, the night Hannah and I arrived in Madeira in August 2033. We’d been shown round our 5 star hotel in the back of a buggy by a very lovely guide, Pedro. Once we set our bags down and sipped the champagne which had been waiting for us when we entered the room, we made our way to one of the pool bars to unwind from the tough few months that had preceded.

“What a view!” Hannah exclaimed.

It was. The hotel was palace-like, situated on cliff-top gardens overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. “One of the best in Madeira” according to a few brochures we had looked at.

The preceding months had been tough on us as husband and wife. We’d been trying for a baby for what seemed like a lifetime and we got some great news back in January when Hannah found out she was pregnant. We couldn’t have been more delighted. The love of my life, the woman I met when we were both teenagers, was carrying our first child. All the love, excitement and nervousness carried us through those first three months like a whirlwind. I remember very little of the next few months. Our world came crashing down in just nine words on April 28^th 2033.

“Mr and Mrs Gibson. I’m sorry… It’s a miscarriage.”

From that moment on for around two and a half months, both our heads were all over the place. Our business, our social life, our finances and our health all suffered. It was the most devastating news either of us had ever been faced with. The support we gave our employees was limited, the happiness and support we gave to our families and friends was brief. We became strained with each other. It’s not uncommon for a relationship to suffer as greatly as it felt ours did in the aftermath. But we pulled through. The love and care given by our nearest and dearest gave us the strength to get back on our feet and dust ourselves off. This holiday was important not just for the sake of our marriage, but for the sake of our health. So when my wife said how wonderful the view was that night, it was the first time in 4 months I had seen her bright, radiant smile and the content look on her face as if all the stresses and strains of those torturous months had been lifted. Whilst we’d never get over the news that was given to us, I was incredibly satisfied in getting my wife back.

[gibbo11]

Steve Jackson, our holiday friend, hailed from Cleveland, Ohio. That was before moving to England, into a village called Bollington which is situated on the outskirts of Macclesfield, when he was 23. At 39, Steve had eight years on me. He was an entrepreneur with two businesses running – one focusing on luxury lifestyle management and the second, a bespoke vehicle services company. The latter was a joint venture with one of his best friends Richie Parker, whom he met when Richie was studying in America in his late teens. He was very business-minded and offered a lot of advice on what myself and Hannah should do within our own joint-business venture.

We were in retail, selling relatively upmarket clothing and accessories. Both Steve and I had similar clientele in the sense that the ‘higher value per sale’ business came from the sporting world, the biggest slice coming from professional footballers. Our other business come from people who wanted to be like such sports stars. Steve offered advice about expanding our online store, telling us to offer extra services such as a personal shopper based on previous purchases or a ‘Try’ service, where customers can request to try on stock and then returning them if they are not satisfied, similar to how they would try on clothes in one of our six stores across London and the South-East. He also hinted at the idea of giving us some free advertising – something I knew would eventually come at a cost but the man was clearly giving off a sense of financial endowment and a reputable stature.

His wife, Kirsty, didn’t seem the working type – all glamour with diamonds covering her ears and hands, designer clothes and probably had a suitcase worth more than the clothes I owned. She seemed, on the face of it, the complete opposite to my dear wife, whose drive and commitment to our business really got us to where we were. We were doing well, well enough to afford a fancy holiday or two, but not enough to be set for life. Our downturn in fortune in the months leading up to the holiday, in our personal life, cost us more than just money but getting back that passion for business that we had at the start of the year was something Steve was really building back up through his inspirational talk and stories, such as when he made his first million. Thankfully, whilst this seemed like he was a boaster, a show-off, he genuinely seemed down-to-Earth and ‘normal’ and I admired that. I also admired him taking the time out to be honest and offer advice where necessary – after all, we were both on holiday to get away from work so he didn’t need to talk about it.

“Why the sports team?” I asked. “You and I both know it can be a mug’s game.”

“Can be, Steve. But look.” He paused. “Before I had money I wanted to play sport – soccer, football, whatever – I got too fat, wasn’t very good. Wanted to be involved as a coach – life ended up going in an entirely different way meeting my friend Richie. So, I was hoping that when I had the money to do it, I could own a sports team and be involved in sport, like I had always dreamed. I may not be very good at playing it, coaching or managing a sports team, but I believe I’m a damn good businessman and I can bring that to the table.”

I wouldn’t be so quick to say these thoughts hadn’t gone through my mind. I had the aim of breaking through the Dulwich Hamlet ranks circa 2018/19. I ended up playing semi-professional at Whitstable for a few years from there before dropping into local amateur football. I could cite injuries but that’s the go-to excuse for many failed footballers. I just simply wasn’t that good nor committed in the end, especially when I had my eyes opened to business and the money I could make from it.

The rise of the online attire store from 2015 onwards only got bigger by the time 2027 rolled around and I had my 25^th birthday. All it needed, it seemed, was a high-profile endorser and the sales would roll-in. Hannah and I took a chance and using her best mate’s footballing boyfriend Sam Rooney, then playing at Gillingham. We saw our quarterly, then annual targets smashed. The steam-train was rolling and the online shop was excelling. We made the decision to open up some bespoke stores in well-known shopping centres, which despite a struggle at first, started to show some real results, albeit steadily. Having one celebrity endorser often meant you could get a few more, and the social media hype of the twenties really created a boom of young, successful businessmen and women. Thankfully, Hannah and I were two of them.

[tenthreeleader]

Looks like a fine start, with some good development of your main characters. That's going to get you a thumbs up from me every time. Good luck and carry on.

[gibbo11]

As our holiday came to an end, we felt like we had found two unexpected new friends on what was meant to be some time alone with each other. We hoped Steve and Kirsty felt they had found new friends in us too and after exchanging numbers and business cards, we went our separate ways at the airport - the Jackson’s heading towards Manchester and us Gibson’s heading to London Gatwick. Whilst we hadn’t spent the whole time together, alone, both Hannah and I agreed that it was very much needed to take our minds off of the past few months, where we may have constantly referred to the event had we spent so much time alone.

“Steve’s going to get in contact when he’s back in one of his offices and get something started on helping getting our name out there. Who knows what he’d want in return – he said no bother but we’ve already met people that say that and not mean it. Still, it could be great for us either way.”

After a two-hour delay at the Cristiano Ronaldo (Madeira) Airport and a three-and-a-half-hour flight, we finally touched down back in surprisingly sunny England. Part of our agreement when going on holiday was not taking our business phones, leaving our competent Director, Michael Phillips, in charge. Since this was the first time we’d done such a thing, we both dreaded turning those phones on when we got home.

For us, home was in Kent. A small village called Rodmersham just outside Sittingbourne. Whilst we didn’t have a completely fancy house, we did get lucky and snatch a decent one off the market a year previous, one Hannah had her eye on for a few years having grown up in nearby Teynham. I’d originally lived in London until I was 18, when the Dulwich Hamlet dream died. I moved to Sittingbourne, with my family, working as a retail assistant before becoming a store manager at a well-known high-street chain. I combined this with football, playing two, maybe three times a week. Having not made the grade at Dulwich Hamlet, I played several seasons in the Southern Counties East League Premier Division for Whitstable before moving into the local leagues with my closest mates.

Hannah was particularly keen on becoming a fashion designer but her career took a different path, leading into recruitment and HR. That passion to design though led her to want to switch careers in her early twenties and it was really what got me into gear and begin to question if being a store manager was what I wanted to do all my life. Together we had saved quite a bit, preparing to outlay it on a first home. Combined with some inheritance and a bank loan, we invested it into setting up our company, Born and Bred, in 2027.

We initially set out designing accessories, such as watches, hats and bags but this opened up into clothing, from tees and hoodies, to jeans. Eventually, we were designing trainers and gym gear, really opening the venture up into different markets. Hannah’s best mate Nicole Cooper really landed on her feet when she met, then began a relationship with current Millwall star Sam Rooney, then playing for Gillingham. Having become part of the group, Sam insisted on helping us out and would go on to become an ambassador for our company. Before we knew it, a couple of Instagram posts, Snapchat selfies and Tweets later, the brand we had created was getting noticed and our online traffic soared. His Gillingham teammates further pushed our name out there and being local, we gained a lot of support from our neighbouring towns, especially if people knew us and who we were. We had to work hard with our manufacturers and suppliers to ensure demand was met. This was what we had worked hard for – several years of hard graft and finally, we were seeing success by 2029.

Fast forward 4 years and the business had really taken off. We had several high-profile names from both sport and TV actively wearing our brand. Not only were we selling hundreds of items online, we had also rolled out six stores across London, Essex and Kent. As private people, staying out of the limelight was difficult but something we strived for – it’s not who we were as such. The new found ‘fame’, if you will, did mean we attended the odd party where there was a real sense of who’s who. Did all this stop me from playing football? Well, it did. I played the odd game as a ringer for a few local teams whenever a mate was really desperate and I was free. But playing for Whitstable came to an end when I realised the effort I was putting in was so far behind that of my teammates. It was better to go out on my terms rather than someone else’s. However, instead of paying money to play at a poor standard of amateur football, I was more interested in earning money by selling to those who earned big wages and meeting wealthy celebrities who were more than willing to help push our brand.

[gibbo11]

“The page is in the new brochure which is being printed right now. These will go out to those on our postal mailing list in the coming days, as well as sitting in our showrooms. The e-version will be sent tomorrow morning so keep an eye out for it.”

True to his word, Steve inserted a full page advertisement for Born and Bred in his new brochures, a month after meeting in Portugal. On top of this, we struck a deal that with any new business for a 30-day period they receive through Jax Luxury Lifestyle, we will send out a box of goodies to their new customer, with us earning some commission and potential new business. We also run a promotion that if you spent a certain amount online, you can get 10% off one of Jax’s bespoke services, whether that be lifestyle or motor. With his business a really popular hit with those sportspeople with vast amounts of money, we could really get some wealthy clientele purchasing our gear.

Over the course of the next few months, we saw a real uplift in interest, more than before. We hit record page views and sales online, and we were seeing stock deplete from our stores quicker than ever before. It wasn’t just through Steve Jackson’s help. Myself and Hannah had really channelled our negative energy we had following the miscarriage, using it to drive our business forward. Working harder and longer than we ever had. We became more hands on, promoting our brand and becoming a little less private. Those parties I mentioned earlier? We were at all of them, people really started to know who we were. And we really started to get to know our hangovers a lot more. Our social media presence was strong and started to gain hundreds of followers a month. By January 2034, we entered the New Year in great shape financially and in great health. Then, almost a year to the day Hannah told me she was pregnant for the first time, I could sense she needed to get something off her chest.

“Babe, what’s up? Business is good and we seem to be in a really good place. I know this time of year is going to be difficult, and it will for some months, but just talk to me, please?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Of course it’s not nothing. I’m here for you, we have to be open.”

“I’m scared, Steve. Scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“If it ever happens again. You know.”

“You can’t go thinking like that. It was a freak event. We will be fine.. YOU will be fine. I promise. Whenever that time comes we’ll handle it together, again.”

“We may have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m pregnant.”

[tenthreeleader]

11 hours ago, gibbo11 said:

After a two-hour delay at the Cristiano Ronaldo (Madeira) Airport

That's the one with the bust of Niall Quinn.

Two very well written pieces. Looking forward to seeing where you take the backstory.

[gibbo11]

13 hours ago, tenthreeleader said:

That's the one with the bust of Niall Quinn.

Two very well written pieces. Looking forward to seeing where you take the backstory.

Thanks tenthree, enjoyed  writing it. I wrote that part the morning before the Niall Quinn bust was unveiled, so a quick edit later..  

Thankfully the game that's driving the story is in it's early stages so I can both play the game and write about it so it's much more motivating to continue writing!

[gibbo11]

As we entered April, we felt a sense of ‘been there, done that’ in terms of the baby. It was a weird feeling. We were going through this process that we’d gone through before except all we had to show from the first time was the baby scans of our ‘first child’. This time around, we were extraordinarily precautious. Everything we did was done with so much care and attention. The worry we both had, the guilt as if we had played a big part in receiving that outcome the year before, both featured heavily in our minds. We were going to see the Midwife at Kent and Canterbury Hospital at around the same time we found out about the miscarriage in 2033. It’s safe to say the car journey was quiet, the mood was tense and neither of us wanted to upset the other by saying something stupid.

“Hannah Gibson please..”

After we were called in, we were still silent. It was the same midwife, Claire, who had given us the news on our darkest day. She instantly recognised us. She welcomed us with a hug.

“Here, sit down, sit down. You both look really well, I am so pleased for you both. How are you feeling?” she posed to Hannah.

“I feel good. I’m just scared.”

After a few moments pause and silence, she broke down. I put my arm round her as she leant into me for support. I couldn’t bear to look, so I focused on the light fitting above, blinking quickly to stop my eyes from filling up. Claire got on her knees and held Hannah’s hands.

“Look, let’s get you on the bed and take a look and make sure the little one is fine shall we? It’s okay. It’s natural to feel like this.”

We helped Hannah on the bed and I stood by her side, holding her hand. Claire applied the jelly and got the transducer out. I hadn’t been that nervous ever in my life. I couldn’t imagine what Hannah was going through. She squeezed my hand as we saw the image of our growing baby inside her.

There was a pause as Claire took a further look.

“We’re all good. The baby is fine.” She smiled, a relief for her too it seemed. I could imagine she was dreading the thought of being the bearer of bad news for the second time.

Hannah’s head sunk into the pillow as she stared at the ceiling and smiled. I kissed her on the forehead, wiped tears from her cheek and told her I loved her.

I don’t believe in a God, but if there happened to be one listening to me at that time, I pleaded they were good to us.

We celebrated overcoming this small step as only we know how, a feast in Pizza Express. A large pizza each and we doubled up on dough balls. She had a plain cheese and tomato whilst I went with ham, mushroom and spinach. We finished the meal off with two chocolate brownies before we told our close family and friends that our appointment went as well as we could have hoped. Their responses felt like it was their baby too.

Friends and family really are the most important things in life.

And maybe pizza.

[gibbo11]

“One game. That’s all you need to play. I’ll even pay your subs even though you’re loaded lol.”

My mate Rob was as persuasive as they come. He’d been a salesman for 12 years so knew the tricks of the trade so to speak. He’d put on an act sometimes, which is ironic considering he shared the same name as the famous actor Rob Lowe. He wanted me to play his football team’s opening league game on Saturday 12^th August 2034. As much as I wanted to play, I was also meeting Steve Jackson in London about some important business opportunities he wanted to discuss with me. With the meeting in Mayfair, London, it didn’t leave me with much time to get ready and get there, especially since the game was away at Luton Recreational Ground in Gillingham at 2pm. His team, Oak Athletic were up against Quested, the league winners for the past 8 seasons. I could just skip it, let my mate down as well as some other guys I respected, but the need to play football was buzzing around inside of me. It had been a few months without kicking a ball. F*** it, I thought. What’s the worst that could happen?

Our team was relatively good. A few weak spots dotted around but nothing that said we couldn’t make a real go of it. Up against the reigning champions for the last 8 seasons was always going to be tough, regardless who played.

As well as Rob, two of my other mates were in the side. Michael Phillips – that Born and Bred Director, and Ash Henderson, a hot-headed left back who spent his work life in the City as an Insurance Broker. All four of us started, as we were on the back-foot instantly. Within 5 minutes I knew that it was going to be tough for me to see it through til half-time, no amount of 10km morning runs were going to match the up and down intensity of football for me. A rough challenge after 20 minutes by Ash caused a few arms to be waved around and a few puffed-out chests on both sides. I kept well away, there were more important things in life for me than getting involved in a heated exchange with some dodgy folk from Gillingham.

That challenge was the start of something bigger though. What came with Quested’s undoubted skill and ability, was their keenness for trouble and misdemeanour. As with a lot of grassroots football, if the referee was influenced in one way or another by a dominant team, you’ll find that decisions will go against you, no matter how obvious it was to the contrary. Therefore, when an elbow flew in by Quested’s big number 6 on our striker Luke Friday, who was a small, skinny lad, we were all expecting some sort of card, at the very least a free-kick. Neither given.

“You f****** cheat ref.”

A sharp whistle stopped play. The referee booked Rob for his outburst, causing more anger and frustration throughout our side. Things were heating up on the side-line with several subs getting in each other’s faces – we knew they had a reputation for it, I just hoped we’d all just leave safely with all four limbs attached.

Just before half-time and I was finally able to get on the ball and drive on from the centre of midfield. I’d barely had a sniff before that. I skipped past one challenge but slightly over-hit my next touch. I could see their winger in the corner of my eye catching up to me, most likely to go in for a sliding challenge. I managed to get my right boot in front of the ball, expecting the hit on the ankle from the right. What I didn’t expect was that same number 6 from before coming in from the left, leading with his elbow again. I fell to the floor like a sack of s***. Dazed and slightly confused as to what happened. I landed on my shoulder pretty heavily and felt a tingle below my eye also. The commotion going on around me didn’t interest me one bit as I tried to get some sense back into my brain. I reached up to touch my face. It was then that I realised the elbow had cut me and I realised it was a stupid decision to play football.

Oh, and he didn’t get booked, again.

I came off at half time, and was able to get someone to drive me in my car to nearby Medway Hospital to get stitched up. The final score was Quested 4 Oak Athletic 0. Hardly surprising either that we eventually had a man sent off. If I was 10 years younger, I’d have been back out on that pitch, but for the time being, I’d just remember that number 6’s face and get my revenge at a later date.

Three hours later and all stitched up, I somehow needed to make it home then back to London for my meeting with Steve. I gave him a quick courtesy call to tell him the news about the shiner on my face. He laughed rather unsympathetically and told me he couldn’t wait to see it. Thankfully, it was just him that would be there, no other businessmen. I got back to a heavily-pregnant Hannah telling me off about playing football and reminding me that I had to attend a fashion event in her absence the following weekend. And that I also looked like s***. Cheers babe.

What’s the worst that could happen playing football he said!

[gibbo11]

I arrived in Mayfair shortly after 8, running a little late due to traffic coming into the City. Thankfully, Steve wasn’t bothered and spent the first five minutes inspecting the bruising and patch on my face.

“Laugh it up, Steve. I’ll sure be laughing when I’m at this fashion ball thing Hannah is making me go to next weekend. The embarrassment!”

I’d been excited to hear what business proposal he was going to put forward to me. Our previous link-up clearly benefitted both businesses, maybe more-so mine than his, but I felt we got him some brand new clientele too.

“This doesn’t relate to what either of us have going on at the moment, no fashion, car or lifestyle dealings here..”

“Okay.. Go on..”

“Well. Cast your mind back to Madeira..”

“A lot of drink was drunk, Steve. You’re going to have to help!”

“I’ve been pretty successful, and yes, I initially said 6 months and it’s been 12..”

“Sports team?”

“Yes!”

“Who?!”

“No idea! That’s where you come in!” He bellowed. I laughed until I realised he was actually being serious.

“No.. Really?”

“Yes really, Steve. My finance guys have been working on some financial models and plans about buying a soccer team here in England. I would like Richie on board and although he is giving it some thought, I don’t think it’s his thing.”

“I’ve never really wanted to own a club though. I said it’s a mugs game. Plus it’s football…!”

“Forget that. It’s a mugs game for those who do not understand business like I do. I at least want you on board to help consult and advise. You know the game! You’re a ‘football’ man!”

“I’ve barely played let alone know the game inside-out!”

Again, we laughed.

“Well, the offers there. We want to start putting the feelers out there, see what is available to us. We could really make an impression at a local club, bring success to it and become legends.”

“You make it sound so much easier than it is. I’m interested I suppose, I’m just unsure on what role I’d want to have. I can consult but any financial input would need to say-so from her at home.”

“That’s not surprising and completely expected. This could be a great adventure, I’d hate for you to miss out on it!”

He was right. I mean, the potential could be great. But potential can go both ways. It could be good, it could be bad. It sounded like Steve was making some quick-fire decisions without really thinking about it. I didn’t know how much money he was willing to set aside, and I didn’t know what level of club he wanted to go for. I knew he had a large bank account but some of these League One and League Two clubs can go for £10m now, that’s without the backing after that. Had he really saved that amount up?

“I know what you’re thinking now that I’ve raised the idea though..”

“And what’s that Steve?

“You want to know how much I’m willing to spend..”

“Yes. Yes I do!”

As we chuckled he brought up a few figures his finance guys had come up with.

“For me to live comfortably still, for us to have a foreseeable future at any club we own, then I’m willing to spend up to £3million to purchase a club.”

“Okay..”

“Now, I’m not stupid enough to think we can get a team that’s playing professionally. But what if we got a club on the cheap, turned it professional, brought in some names and get the media hype around us? I know some great marketing guys. Re-invent a lower league team.”

“I mean, it’s possible. Though English fans don’t take too kindly with a re-design of their club. Just to let you know.”

We had seen an increase in interest in recent years of wealthy businessmen takeover a lower league team, often one in the lower reaches of the Non-League. Cribbs were playing League Two football last year before their owner withdrew funding. Ashton & Backwell United saw a rise up the leagues and got into the National League where they will be playing this season. There had been various attempts over the years made known in the media, so it wasn’t unheard of. Cribbs was a particular success story and the reasoning behind their owner withdrawing funding was understandable – I mean, he died, and it was a sole venture. The family had no interest in running the club.

By the time the meeting finished, I was more on board than when he first mentioned it. If I could spare some money towards it, I could have a real say on what goes on at the club and help Steve more than I could as a consultant. Either way, whatever the boss says at home would stand.

I doubt that would go well. I could guarantee she wouldn’t take ol’ s***ty-eye face here seriously.

[gibbo11]

We were finally on the drive home. 3 days after I rushed Hannah to the hospital, we were returning with a tiny Gibson boy. We’d decided on names for whatever gender was in the 'oven', so we instantly welcomed the little guy to the world by his name, Ollie. I was immensely proud of my wife, fearing complications and a long labour, she gave it her all and delivered the greatest gift in either of our lives. She now has two males to give birthday presents to in September, with me being the 25^th and Ollie on the 4^th.

After a few obligatory social media posts and phone calls later, we settled down with our new addition, opposite our little memorial for our ‘first child’.

“Thank you for watching over your brother, little one,” Hannah said, as we cuddled up tightly in the dimly-lit room.

We felt lucky that we had been given another chance at creating life, another go at bringing a child into the world.

A few days had passed and the joy hadn’t worn off. We were tired but knew it would only get harder, but there was no chance either of us would complain about it. The business had taken a back seat, understandably, but it required no immediate attention anyway - we were still doing as well as before. Our employees from the different stores and the guys that run our online business bought us some amazing gifts for both us as new parents, and for baby Ollie. Steve and Kirsty Jackson dropped by for a celebratory drink and to welcome Ollie into the world.

I know what you may be wondering. Did the boss say yes to the potential football business deal me and Steve discussed the month previous?

She did - but I wasn’t allowed to use what was already in our savings account. That meant I had to start earning and saving from that point in time to put towards any new business venture. With Steve actively looking to get started soon, I made him aware that pumping my own money into this idea would look less likely the quicker he wanted it to come to fruition. He understood, of course, he had a ton of respect for my wife, as does any man. But I could sense he was a little disappointed. Still, if he hadn’t bought a club til I was in a position to, then it was fair game. He still wanted me to advise and consult, and that’s exactly what I had been doing since.

I had been scoping the Non-League, the semi-professional game, to see what potential we had and where we were most likely to succeed. With the figure he was throwing around, we could realistically talk to most clubs tier 6 and below, with fair few at tier 5 too. But we had to think about several factors. Did you want to get off on the wrong foot? Some lower league clubs, although not wealthy, prefer to be family-run, supporter-run or have that ‘locality’ instilled in their club. Rocking the boat as you will and throwing an offer no-one could refuse to a club who don’t want to sell, would upset the club’s fans. Sustainability – will there be enough in coffers to even get the project off the ground?

Another thing to think about was playing squad, both current and the future. The facilities in place. The potential in the area to grow. If you have no fan-base in the local area, it will be much more difficult to attract fans to your games, even if you are more successful on the pitch. Inevitably, people will go see the big names, but returning visitors could be low. To make it easier for Steve, I would be looking at clubs that are doing relatively well, despite having the ownership status up in the air. Maybe a team that hasn’t been in existence for too long, so that the deep rooted historical and sentimental value wasn’t as strong as with other clubs – that would enable Steve to stamp his own mark on the team. As well as this, I would be looking at teams that had fallen a bit, maybe below what their reputation offers - another way of making a mark is bringing some success back to a club - you'd be forgiven for losing a bit of tradition, possibly.

I’d agreed I would get a list of potential clubs over the coming weeks, definitely as we entered October. If he wanted to takeover a club before season’s end, he would need to get started soon due to the lengthy process behind a club takeover. One thing’s for sure though, whichever team he would be buying, the media would see it as "yet another 'foreign' tycoon takeover".