Wisła Posted August 18, 2017 Share Posted August 18, 2017 Quote Wiz says: -- My first attempt at a story, so please be gentle. But positively intended constructive criticism is always welcome to help me improve my writing. Foreword: I've always kept a diary in some form, but following the dubious success of "The Secret Footballer" -- I decided to start writing my own Journal, of what life is like inside the game. I've always been a "what you see is what you get" kind of lad, so I must forewarn you dear potential reader, that some of the thoughts, opinions and experiences I might go on to share with you in these pages could likely be considered a bit "on the edge" for milder tastes. A carry over from the way I liked to play the game, I am sure. I like to keep things real. I think what I think, and I tend to say it. There is no room for contradiction with me. I can also get a little sweary at times. I'm a passionate man, and I do not often feel the need to censor my feelings. But when you get to know me, you'll see that my heart is usually in the right place. I like to think of myself as a "colourful character". A lovable rogue who likes to play life close to the edge, and take chances in the pursuit of my goals. Better to look back and regret having done something, than have to live with the regret of never having done anything at all. I was right up your face as a professional footballer, and I haven't changed that much in times since. Prologue: I'd been helping Mark out with building his exciting new 'secret project' down on the South Coast for about three months when events took a sudden and unexpected turn. It was his project, not mine. Jason Mathews was taking a back-seat after a couple of less than satisfactory seasons in the hot-seat, and I was simply helping out a friend, in lending my experience to ensure that things got off to a good start for him when he was officially announced as the new Manager. It is always good to be ultra-prepared, to hit the ground running and get off to a flying start. And preparation is everything. My input was really along the lines of offering my tactical knowledge, in assessing all his new players he'd be taking charge of and coming up with a system to get the best out of them. The fact it was going to be at a club that I have a lot of time for from my playing days, made me even more determined to plan things out to the very finest of detail. If we got it right, myself in the design and planning stage, and my good friend Mark Molesley in its implementation -- then this club has a lot of potential to develop from here. There is simply no way that a Club like Weymouth should be languishing in the depths of the Southern Premier League. It's embarrassing! When I was here as a player on a most enjoyable two loan spells early in my career, we were on the verge of breaking down the doors to the Football League, narrowly missing out in the Conference Play-Offs two years running. I still don't understand how they never pushed on from there. This club and the town is made for League Football. I was going in as his "Ass-Man" as he put it. A role I had only agreed to upon solid confirmation that it was a completely football related role, and carried no expectations of actually going anywhere near Mark's ass. He assured me that this was indeed the case, so I agreed to help him out for his first season while he settled in, before finishing my badges and getting on with progressing my own career goals. I wasn't ready for a full management role yet myself. Still so much to learn to become the best that I can be. I never quite made it with Southampton as a player, but I was determined and passionate that one day, I would return to manage my home-town club once I'd gained the requisite experience. But I wanted to get all my badges, right up to the UEFA Continental Pro Licence, and start as high up the chain as possible. Careers in management can be notoriously short and unforgiving, and I wanted to prepare thoroughly and give myself the best possible chance of making it to the top. But sometimes, life just doesn't go according to our carefully crafted plans, and we must adapt accordingly. And little did I know at the time, but I would swiftly have to start doing exactly that. It was just four weeks before our first Pre-Season at Weymouth was about to start in earnest, and only two days before Mark was due to be 'Officially Announced' as the new Weymouth Boss, with Jason Matthews voluntarily stepping down to focus on coaching our Goalkeepers, something that he is indeed extremely good at. Certainly a lot better than he was at managing the First Team anyway, based upon this fine football club still being stuck bumbling around in the Southern Premier under his uninspiring stewardship. Mark was going in to turn things around, and I was going to help him. At least, that was the plan anyway. Jason was fully aware of what was going on, it's not like this was all being concocted behind his back. He'd mutually agreed with Steve Mills, the Weymouth Chairman to an "orderly handover of power" during the close-season, and this little arrangement was all being orchestrated behind the scenes, so as to avoid any unnecessary disruptions amongst the playing staff. Everything had been set in place, and I was on my way down to The Bob Lucas Stadium to meet with Mark and Steve to finalise a deal for us both to sign up to the project. Or so I thought. Things turned out a little differently. Mark was as enthusiastic as ever about the project up until the last time I spoke to him two evenings previous, but Mrs Molesley it turned out had other ideas. She was pregnant. The three of us, Mark, Steve, and I learned of this fact together in the Chairman's office, just moments before we were about to put pen to paper on a One Year Rolling contract. I'll never forget that moment, when Mark's phone interrupted proceedings. "I'm sorry, I forgot to turn it off" - he rolled his eyes sheepishly, looking down at his buzzing Blackberry. "It's the Mrs. She doesn't usually bother me when I'm at work, I'd better take it and see what's up. Do you mind?" "Not at all" Mr. Mills smiled reassuringly. Mark took the call, fell silent, and his face went even whiter than its usual shade of pale. "Five months pregnant!?!?" -- he looked up at us -- a mixture of surprise, fear and excitment in equal measure. "I'm going to be a dad!?!" Their backstory was complicated in this regard. They'd been trying for a baby for a while without success, sadly losing one child mid-term, and in the discussion which followed that call, it was clear that Mark suddenly no longer felt he could commit to the role at this time. He needed to be there for his wife, without any other distractions. And that included becoming the manager of Weymouth FC! This left us all with something of a dilemma, to say the least. "If Steve feels it would work, you should take this, Wiz!" - Mark suggested excitedly. " You've done all the work on our tactical preparations yourself anyway. You know the squad, and you already know the club and the area. It could be a perfect solution for everyone!?" The Weymouth Chairman seemed surprisingly enthusiastic at the idea, considering that up until a few moments ago, he thought he already had a new manager. "Well, under the circumstances, I think it would be a wonderful idea!" He beamed. "You already have history with us Wiz, the fans remember you fondly, and I'm sure they'd be very supportive of this move. No announcements have been made, nothing has leaked to the media or the forums, no one would be any the wiser that we didn't have you lined up as our Number One candidate in the first place! What do you say? How d'you fancy the job of Weymouth First Team Manager!?" It was great to be so well thought of, and nice to feel wanted, but just taking the job was not quite as straightforward as you might imagine. The issues surrounding my time at Exeter whilst I was starting out on doing my Coaching Badges under the mentoring scheme with Paul Tisdale, may pose some minor complications [pun not intended]. There was that incident with the youth team there early in my tenure. Apparently some of the lads we're a little upset over a team-talk I gave during my first game in charge of the Under 16s side. Well, two talks actually. The "inspirational" one at half-time, and then the one that took place behind locked doors in the aftermath of that gutless debacle. I say "early in my tenure" -- because it was very near the start; but my tenure itself didn't really last all that long. Until the following morning, actually, when the Chairman called me in on a Sunday for a "quick chat". Apparently there had been a few complaints. He informed me of his concerns, that angry parents reported many of the children had arrived home that night a little tearful, and some I am told appeared to be visibly frightened. I fail to see how that matters. A game of football is a game of football, and it must be won at all costs! I don't give a flying f*ck if it was "only" the first "friendly" game of pre-season - certain standards of basic committment levels must always be met! And whimpering to a pathetic 3-2 defeat at the hands of Shepton Mallet simply does not live up to my expectations. It's ok. As a former Torquay United player, I never really liked Exeter City anyway. Sh*te, drab city too. Torquay was much nicer, nestled as it is on the English Riviera. A beautiful place. A couple of footballing steps backward for now, but Clark and Ben said I was always welcome back to finish my badges whilst doing some coaching there whenever I liked. And that's what I did. But still, I digress. The repercussions from the "Exeter incident" - meant there was a potentially significant problem that may have thrown an immediate spanner in the works, even if I definitely wanted the Weymouth job, and I wasn't even sure that I did. I was supposed to have been on that F.A. "Re-Education" course before I took on my next managerial role in football, at whatever level. But had I done it? Had I f*ck. I do not have a problem with managing my anger. I manage it just fine. It is managing sh*te gutless players serving up abject dross in my name and not giving 100% for the cause that I have a problem with! Doesn't matter if they are thirteen, or thirty! I never gave less than my absolute maximum as a player, for every moment I was out there on that pitch. And I expect nothing less from anyone who plays for me. But I wander. Where were we? Ah yes. The Chairman's office. "I'm honoured you would think of and consider me for it Steve" I replied, "I really am - but I hope that you'll understand I need a couple of days to think about it in some detail. It's a great opportunity, but I'm not even sure I'm ready to commit to management at this level yet. I really wanted to do all my badges first, and I'm still only on my UEFA B, with two yet to go." "I understand, of course" he smiled. "We can certainly help you with your badges too while you're here, for an extra incentive. We'll gladly cover the costs for you to go on and get your next qualifications Wiz. The better qualified you are, the better coaching you'll be able to provide for us. Spend the weekend at home to think it through, and give me a call on Monday morning. I'll keep the position open for you until then, and just run this all over with the other members of the Board in the meantime, but ultimately it will be my decision. So take some time, and we'll talk again next week." So that's where we left it. Steve was confident that he could come to an arrangement with the F.A. over the issue of my previous conduct, and that something could be worked out. And now I have to decide whether or not to grab this unexpected opportunity at a Club that means a lot to me, but are playing someway short of the kind of level I really want to be managing at. But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself here. Not everyone who ends up reading this Journal once it goes to print is going to be familiar with my career, so I should probably tell you a bit about myself. For some heinous crime that I must have committed in a past life or something -- I was christened Wisła Robinson. I know. It's a sh*te name - but that's hardly my fault. Blame my parents. I do. It's actually pronounced Veeshwah, but the English are notoriously ignorant where it comes to bothering to learn the appropriate pronunciation of anything outside the grasp of their immediate native lexicon. So most of my life I've simply been called "Wiz". My father is the former Polish footballing legend Mariuz Trixski, most famous for spending his entire professional career at Ekstraklasa Powerhouse Wisła Kraków. Yeah, that's right. I was named after a football club. It could be worse. Some utter f*cking headcases out there have begun the recent trend of naming their children after sportswear brands such as Nike. At least my dad wasn't that much of a c**t. After he retired, he moved to England to be closer to members of his extended family who had settled in the large Polish community on the south coast, in the bustling port City of Southampton. That's where he met my English mother, Anna, and my life would begin. They chose to give me her English surname, as rightly or wrongly, they felt it would better my chances of growing up successfully within the country. Yeah, go figure. And they didn't think that calling me Wisła might just be a little bit too weird, and regularly get my head kicked in at school? Parents, eh? Insert rolly-eyes emoticon thing. With a dad so passionate about football, I was always likely destined to follow in his footsteps. But could I step out from under his legendary shadow, and forge a successful career of my own, and in another country too? I turned out to be quite a lot like him, as a pacey Forward creative flair player, but with a hard as nails never-say-die combative will to win. A real pest of a player up top who defenders hated, as I never gave them a moments rest. A bit like Shane Long for a modern example, only I could actually Finish. Come to think of it, I could also control and accurately pass the football, so I was really nothing like Shane Long at all. Hmmm. Imagine if you will, the likely horrific result of a cross between Eric Cantona and Roy Keane. Actually, it is probably best that you don't. I just did, and it's not a pretty sight. But if you did, then that was me. Just with a little bit less quality. I came through the renowned Staplewood Academy at Southampton Football Club. As a Southampton lad born and bred, it was always my dream to play for my home-town Club. I managed a handful of First Team appearances from the bench, but with a rapid succession of managers coming and going through the Club in my short spell there, everytime I felt I had started to prove myself and get a chance, the boss would be gone, and I'd have to start again all over. Sadly in the end, I never quite made the grade there. But it was not all bad news. I had two great seasons out on loan at Weymouth early on, and a really enjoyable time down the road at AFC Bournemouth the year after. So enjoyable in fact that after a couple of turbulent seasons at Torquay United following my release from Saints at the age of eighteen -- I was back playing for The Cherries once again as a fully fledged new signing! Of course I had to shake off the dreaded "scummer" tag I arrived with, but it was mostly in good jest, as the majority of the Bournemouth fans remembered and looked back as fondly as I did upon my loan spell with them. They were some good times for the club, and for me personally. Like my father, I was a very loyal player, putting the club and the cause before my own monetary gain, and as a result, I spent the rest of my playing career slowly working our way up the lower leagues with AFCB. I never did establish myself as a Premier League player in the end, mostly we were in League One or the Championship; but I'm thrilled to see Bournemouth have finally made it to the Promised Lands without me. Another potential opportunity in management one day perhaps? If my great friend Eddie Howe ever moves on of course, but I can't really see that happening any time soon. That's enough background for now anyway, time to return my focus to the here and now, and the current dilemma I have before me. Starting out my managerial career so low down the pyramid is far from what I initially wanted or intended. But Weymouth were brilliant with me when I was a kid needing some playing time, and played a big part in helping my career progress. And right now, it seems like they could really use some help. So it feels like the right thing to do. It wasn't a part of the plan, but maybe it's part of a greater plan that has yet to be revealed. I guess in time we'll see -- but for now, I'm going to have some fun finding out. Naturally I'll be capturing every detail by journalling it all along the way; cos that's just what I do and a part of who I am. "Analyse. Learn. Improve." The mantra that has always served me so well. I'm Veeshwah "Wiz" Robinson, and this is my "Journal of a Reluctant Football Manager". Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted August 18, 2017 Author Share Posted August 18, 2017 Chapter One: -- The Fundamentals of Good Cement. I know some managers hate pre-season as much as their players do, even going so far as to wish they could just "holiday" right through it -- but I'm not like most managers. I love pre-season. It's one of my favourite times in football management and coaching. Designing that meticulously planned itinerary, the sanctioning of brutally extreme training camps, exotic far-flung foreign tours, and arranging an array of intriguing Home fixtures against Europe's Continental Elite [or maybe more the likes of FK Crvena Zvezda and Ferencváros, but hey, it still sounds good and excites the fans!] Ahh - yesss. Beautiful, beloved Pre-Season. How good it shall be to experience your bountiful joys once again. It's the chance for a fresh clean slate, and the laying down of foundations upon which hopes and dreams can be built. It is exciting, and so full of potential. As ever -- what we do with that potential is up to us. But it's not exactly a nuclear science. It all starts with hard work and determination. Add an iron willed committment to the cause and a dash of passion -- and you already have the potential beginnings of a fantastic football team. A proper pre-season, planned and enacted with military precision, can make all the difference. It is so vitally important that it often will be the deciding factor in whether or not your season is judged an abject failure or a roaring success. Many of these intimate secrets, I learned through throwing my guts up on Weston Shore, with Gordon Strachan barking at me to "get the f*ck up and carry on running son!" I love that wee man. Learned so much from him. Gordon always used to say to us that a good hard pre-season is the cement that firmly holds our ambitions in place. He believed that by instilling a "harder core" than the more illustrious and talented squads in the league, we could match their greater ability with our indefatigable workrate and indomitable spirit. And the great thing about this, was that it so often turned out that he was right! This is why it is so important to make "good cement". Because the good cement we make in killing ourselves physically and mentally through a gruelling pre-season regime, becomes the firm foundation upon which we build our successful season ahead. When we are physically fitter, stronger, more aggressive, more determined, with a more fervent hunger and greater desire to win, and are filled with more spirit and passion than our opposition -- they'll have be be really f*cking good if they're gonna beat us! As the saying goes -- "hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard." Just thinking about this new project was already exciting me with the possibilities! The prospect of putting my potential new troops through their paces in an exciting pre-season campaign of my own design. Yes. It was time to make the call. "How big is my office?" On the other end of the line, sat in his dark brown leather desk chair down at the Bob Lucas Stadium, Steve Mills laughed, a grin spreading across his face. "Does that mean you're planning on taking it then Wiz!?" "Yep. I've thought about it long and hard, and Weymouth has been great for me in the past. Just feels right to come back and help out where I can now, return the favour. But, you didn't answer my question Steve..." He chuckled to himself. "It's a tiny shoebox in the broom cupboard, under the stairs next to the toilets, Wiz. I hope that won't be a problem for you?" "No problem at all Mr. Chairman" I replied. "It sounds perfect." Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
tenthreeleader Posted August 19, 2017 Share Posted August 19, 2017 Very nice start. I like your style and I like your backstory. Good luck! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted August 21, 2017 Author Share Posted August 21, 2017 On 19/08/2017 at 02:47, tenthreeleader said: Very nice start. I like your style and I like your backstory. Good luck! Thank you very much sir, glad to see someone enjoyed it. ================================================================================ Chapter Two: -- Massive Noisy Seagulls and the Repugnant Smell of Rotten Fish. [Or - Welcome to Weymouth: A Traditional Southern-English Seaside Town]. The Seagulls in Weymouth are absolutely MASSIVE. Seriously, that's why I gave them a capital S. These f*ckers are HUGE! It's like the largest female gull in local history was f*cked by an albatross, and their progeny bred out to overthrow the whole town. Seriously, I've spent most of my life living in Southampton, Bournemouth and Torquay. I'm used to the presence of seagulls. But you simply won't believe just how big these things are, until you've been to Weymouth and actually see them for yourself. Now don't get me wrong, I love seagulls. They are very intelligent, and beautiful birds. But unfortunately, they also carry a very loud and complex vocal range, and that can heavily interfere with one's sleep, especially when staying in temporary hastily arranged overnight seafront accommodation. It's three 'o' clock in the morning, and I'm awoken by a chilling bloodcurdling cry, that sounds like we're being raided by flying Nazgul from Lord of the Rings! Bloody seagulls! Then there is the mess. The bigger the seagull... the harder 'it' falls. "Did you want me to send over my report on the current squad for your perusal, Wiz?" Jase asked, as we made our way down the corridors of power later that afternoon, toward the staff carpark, following our first management meeting to discuss the immediate future. "Sh*t". "What's wrong, Wiz?" Jason Mathews looked puzzled, as we exited the main entrance to the Bob Lucas Stadium together. "Sh*t!" I replied, stretching out my index finger. "F*cking seagull Sh*t. It's everywhere! I've only been parked here, what, less than a couple of hours?, and it's all over my car!" "Ha-ha - welcome to Weymouth mate!" he grinned. "There's a lot more where that came from!" Hmmm. "About that report Jase. Yeah, that would be great, thanks. I've already been studying the squad closely myself over the last three months as you know -- but I'd still value your insight from working with them yourself." "Sure. I'll have it on your desk first thing in the morning, ready and waiting for you when you've signed on the dotted lines. Have a good night, boss!" I smiled. Boss. Indeed I was. More than twenty years had passed -- and Wiz was back in Weymouth. Back where it all started for me. And for that, I was glad. Unlocking the door to my relatively modest metallic black BMW Z4, I contemplated the thought of another night spent at that seagull sanctuary that passes for a hotel I was staying at last night. Yeah, about that. Maybe not. "Ohh, Jase... there was one more thing actually, before you go..." I called back as he crossed the carpark. "What's that Wiz?" "Can you recommend any good places to stay around here that don't require industrial noise cancelling earplugs to get a decent nights sleep?" "There's a spare room going at mine on the outskirts of town for a few nights if you want it, til you have a chance to find something more suitable?" That was settled then. Would give me a good opportunity to get to know Jason better as we'd be working closely together, and plenty of time for discussing the team and making plans. I was headed back to the hotel to grab my things and check out, when a text message arrived from back home in Southampton. "Hi love, how was your day in Weymouth? Any big news to report?" "Big news?" I repeated. "Sure. The seagulls are f*cking massive! Oh -- and yes, I am the new Weymouth Manager." It's one of my faults. I get utterly absorbed in whatever I'm doing in the moment. Over the last couple of days I'm already fifty-seven chess moves ahead of the game in my head of what I want to do with this Weymouth squad. Probably should have let my girlfriend know that the Molesley's are pregnant and Steve offered me the job instead. "I know..." she said. "You already know?!" I text back in surprise. "Just saw it on the local news! How did that happen?" It was easier to call. And that was a fun conversation. #Mental note: Buy expensive flowers, and remember to consider the feelings of others. But more importantly -- what was this doing in the news!?! We have a verbal agreement, but I haven't even signed the f*cking contract yet! Way to get ahead of yourselves British Press! And how do they know? Even more to the point, who's been talking? I called Steve. "Wiz -- I am sorry. I can guess what you're calling about, I just saw it myself, and I have absolutely no idea where this has come from." "Well, I've told no-one, unfortunately for me - including my other half, so who else knew?" "You, myself, Mark, Jason and the Board. That's it from my end" he sought to reassure me that our confidence remained intact. "Rest assured, I'm looking into it Wiz. We cannot afford to have loose lips on this team." "No worries Steve, doesn't really matter. But it would be good to know who it is that we cannot trust. Guess we'd better move the Presser forward to tomorrow, now it's out?" I suggested. "Sure thing Wiz. Definitely better if we can control these things from our end. I'll get onto it. We'll release a short statement tonight, and after we've put it all in writing tomorrow -- we'll present you to the world. Or at least to the Dorset Echo and BBC Solent anyway..." he laughed. After punching Jason Matthews into my SatNav [not literally you understand] I set off for my new lodgings for the night. "Well, you made Meridian News..." Jason greeted me at the front door to his humble two bed detatched abode in the leafy Weymouth Suburbs. "That so?" I replied. "Steve said he was going to put out a short official media announcement tonight, and we've had to move our presser forward to tomorrow too..." I revealed. "Unfortunately, some t*sser has leaked my appointment to the press before I've even signed - and stolen the Club's thunder. Chairman is not best pleased!" "Sh*t, really Wiz? I wonder who'd want to do that? I can assure you I've not spoken to anyone mate." "No, I didn't think for a moment it would have been you Jase" I reassured him. "Be very interested to find out who did though! Think Steve is going to eat them alive!" I laughed at the prospect. Jason fixed us some refreshments, and we sat down to catch the BBC Local News & Sport. Quote Robinson Set for Weymouth Job: "After rumours broke earlier today concerning the imminent appointment of Wiz Robinson as the new Weymouth Boss, the Club have tonight moved to confirm the news. Chairman Steve Mills issued the following statement via the Club's website and twitter feed:" Quote Weymouth Football Club is delighted to confirm the appointment of former Terras player Wisła Robinson as our new First Team Manager. Wiz has verbally agreed to an initial One Year Rolling Contract, and will be Officially presented to the media tomorrow afternoon at a formal Press Conference, once we have completed the formalities of putting pen to paper. Jason Mathews is voluntarily retiring from the position after previously stepping up to hold the fort valiantly in our time of need. He felt he had taken us as far as he could, and we all agreed that it would be good for the Club to bring in someone with fresh ideas and inspiration. Jason will remain with the Club and return to focus on his coaching, and will initially also be helping Wiz with First Team duties as Assistant Manager. We wish to place on record our thanks and appreciation to Jason for all his hard work and dedication; and to wish Wiz great success in his new role with us. "Nicely done that, by Steve," I suggested to my temporary house-mate. "Very professional, he seems pretty good at the media side of things." "Yeah Wiz, he definitely is. A genuinely decent bloke with his heart in the right place. If he could just put his wallet there too, we'd be flying!" my new "Ass-Man" joked. We spent an enjoyable evening together, chatting football, tactics, the Chairman and the Club. Then it was time for me to get an early night. Very early start in the morning, and I'm hoping for a nice restful, seagull-free sleep. Massive day tomorrow, and it can't come soon enough! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted August 21, 2017 Author Share Posted August 21, 2017 Chapter Three: -- A Pressing Matter, and the Return of an Old Friend. I'm happy to report that the night passed without further Nazgul attack. Something I was very grateful for, and to Jason for the quiet place to stay. It is important to me to be fresh and fully rested ahead of any important dates. At 12:45pm, after completing the paperwork on my move, and having a quick bite of lunch, it was time to make my way down to the Club Lounge which also passes as a Conference Room at the Bob Lucas. With a frenzy of flashing cameras clicking wildy away [ok, I might have made that bit up!], the Chairman and I breezed into the room to take up our places at the hastily arranged Conference Table, complete with visibly un-ironed fresh sky-blue tablecloth straight from the wrapper. How embarrassing. #Mental note: Area we must improve upon our professionalism. Presentation is vitally important to positive Club image. Press Conference: Location -- The Bob Lucas Stadium, Weymouth. Steve Mills: "A warm welcome to our assembled media. We're here today to officially present our new manager, Veeshwah Robinson, or "Wiz" as he is better known to you from his playing days. We are delighted to be able to welcome Wiz to Weymouth. We feel he is a magnificent appointment for this club, and are extremely hopeful that this will prove to be an inspired choice. Wiz is a highly ambitious manager, and we are an ambitious club looking to progress. We feel that Wiz is the perfect fit for us, and us for him, to develop his management skills. We look forward to achieving great success together. Over to you for any questions you have for us on this appointment." NW: "Thanks Steve, Hi Wiz, Neil Walton from the Dorset Echo. Welcome to Weymouth. As a fan of the Club yourself, this must be something of a dream come true for you?" Wiz: "Thank you Neil, good to meet you. I don't know about a 'dream come true' - but this is certainly a special club for me, and a special day. But there is a lot of work to be done here, and no time for reminiscing. A club like Weymouth playing at this level is unacceptable. My job -- is to do something about it!" MB: "Afternoon Wiz, Matt Badcock from the Non-League Paper. And do you think you are the right man for that job?" [At that moment, I thought of my old mentor, WGS, who was asked the very same question upon his unveiling at Southampton. Wee Gordon was legendary for his press conference antics at Saints. A reporter once approached him in the tunnel at St. Mary's after a depressing Home defeat, and asked "Gordon, can we have a quick word?" -- "Velocity" he fumed. And stormed off in the direction of what was soon to become the Home Dressing Down Room. I'll never have the electric wit of the wee man himself, but one thing I do know -- my press conferences are never going to be boring!] Wiz: "First of all, hello Matt. I'm sorry to hear about your cock, and I sincerely hope it gets better soon. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Secondly, to answer your question -- No." I stated calmly, following Gordon's lead. "I think they've got the wrong man. I'm useless. I think they should have gone for someone else." Laughter ensued amongst the packed presser of two journalists, the Sports Editor of Radio Solent, one camera-man, and a microphone that looked remarkably like a sheep with a metal rod jammed up its ass, at an extremely uncomfortable angle. Wiz: "Well, if you ask me a stupid question -- you're gonna get a stupid reply". I smiled wryly. "Yes. Of course I think I'm the right man for the job, or I would not be sitting here talking with you, would I? Me and Weymouth have history together. It is a club that I have a lot of time for, and when the opportunity somewhat unexpectedly presented itself to me -- I considered it very carefully. I felt it was the right club at the right time, and that we could be a perfect fit for eachother. I believe this squad and this Club has a lot of potential. And I believe that I have the appropriate skillset to harness that, and take this Club forward." MB: "A lot of people would consider that with your reputation in the game, a club like Weymouth may be a bit below you, Wiz? What do you say to those who accuse you of a lack of ambition in your choice of first job in management?" Wiz: "Muppets." MB: "Muppets, Wiz? Would you care to elaborate on that?" Wiz: "I would consider it an insult to Weymouth, for a start. It's a great club, that should be aiming a lot higher. Hopefully I can help take them there. As for my 'level of ambition'? Define ambition? I would say that taking a club I care about, out of the depths of the Southern Premier League and into Professional League Football for the first time in their history, to be a pretty ambitious project -- would you not?" MB: "You're telling us that you seriously think you can bring League Football to lowly Weymouth?!?" Wiz: "No. I'm not telling you that I think I can do that." I smiled. "I'm telling you that I will. Is that ambitious enough for you?" MB: "Sounds more like 'delusions of grandeur' Wiz!" Wiz: "Can't win with you lot, can I!?" I laughed out loud. "First I'm not ambitious enough for you, and now I have ideas above my station?" MB: "Not so much your station Wiz, but Weymouth's. What makes you think you have what it takes to effectively turn 'water into wine' at a club with such a humble existence?" Wiz: "Maybe I was Jesus in a previous life, and some of the magic has carried over? Maybe I just believe in myself and my ability, and the great potential of this club. I'll let you decide Matt. Moving on, Adam..." AB: "For the record, Adam Blackmore, Chief Sports Editor from BBC Radio Solent, although naturally we already know eachother from your long career on the south coast. It's good to see you back in football again Wiz. You are clearly very confident in your ability and in this club, but what do you feel is a realistic timescale for achieving your ambitions for Weymouth? Should the fans be expecting a dramatic revolution, or do you see this as a longer term project?" Wiz: "Thanks Adam, it is great to see you too my friend. It is nice to see that we have at least one intelligent journalist in attendance today" I joked playfully. "Well, I see that there is the potential for both scenarios. It really depends upon how quickly the Weymouth lads buy into my methods, how long it takes to effectively gel the squad together into an effective unit that are prepared to die for each-other out there on the pitch, and how much luck we get along the way. I certainly wouldn't rule out a fairytale rise if everything goes as well as I hope and we can ride the momentum that confidence brings. But more realistically -- I've signed an initial One Year Rolling contract so we can all have a good look at each other, but if all starts and continues to go well, we're talking three promotions for league football, and I'd like to think that if we're all together as one and pushing in the same direction, it is a target we can realistically achieve within the next five years." AB: "You have Steve Mills sat alongside you, so without wanting to put you on the spot too much Wiz, do you feel that your Chairman shares your ambitions for the club, and Steve, do you feel that Wiz's ideas are realistic for a club of Weymouth's stature?" Wiz: "I have absolutely no doubt that Steve and I are totally on the same page in our desires to make Weymouth into a club we can all be proud of. The fans are very lucky to have such a driven man running the club. I firmly believe we can achieve great things together." SM: "Thank you Wiz, and yes Adam, we are very much singing from the same hymn sheet. We're lucky to have Wiz here, we are under no illusions that he could easily have taken a job much higher up the footballing ladder than us. But we both feel that this club should be a lot more that it currently is. Wiz wants to be managing in the Football League, and he's made no secret of that during our lengthy discussions. I want Weymouth to be playing League Football too, so the hope is, that we can help each-other get there together." AB: "Thanks Steve. Wiz, we know what you were like as a player, but I'm sure the fans would want to know if we can expect to see you instill the same energetic and attacking dynamic into your new Weymouth side? Are you a manager that wants to see your team playing in your own image?" Wiz: "Yes, very much so Adam. I like my teams to play an attractive attacking brand of football. It's something I'm very passionate about. The Weymouth fans are certainly in for some exciting entertainment under my watch. My message to the supporters would be - don't miss out! I know the football hasn't exactly been what you would have wished for over the last few years, but that is going to be changing. Come and support us, and what we want to do here. Unite your passion for this club with my own, and get behind your local team! We can achieve great things here, but we can't do it without you. We need your support, both vocally, and in finances coming through the turnstiles. I want to see the Bob Lucas Stadium packed out and absolutely rocking! Come along for what is going to be a wild ride, and let us entertain you!" AB: "You talk there about passion Wiz, and anyone who knows you and has watched your career will know that you are a very passionate man in general. Is that a factor you expect to be a help or a hinderance to you in management?" Wiz: "Ha, some would say it's already been a hinderance in the past Adam" I mused playfully. "But I cannot help being who I am. Sure, maybe on occasions my passion not just for the game, and for winning, but for life itself - can sometimes get me into trouble. But I won't be changing. That is who I am! I'm a passionate guy, and I wear my heart on my sleeve. On the whole I'd say the positive effects far outweigh the negative.". I smiled mischieviously. AB: "I didn't really want to ask you about Exeter out of respect, but you alluded to it yourself there Wiz, so it would be remiss of me not to pick up on it. We understood that there may have been some issues for you to overcome with the F.A. in moving back into any level of management after what happened there?" SM: "I'll take that one Adam, if I may? There are no issues at all in that regard with Wiz coming here. I've spoken with the F.A. myself before appointing Wiz, and they are happy with the plans we have in place for Wiz to integrate the "education" course they want him to attend with his next coaching badges he'll be taking while he's here with us." Wiz: "Yeah, as Steve says, there are no issues here Adam. I'm going to be starting on my UEFA A Licence very shortly, and it's all going to be amalgamated into that. Ok, I don't want to focus on the past anyway, it's dead, so lets move on from that. Next, Neil?" NW: "It is often said that some managers favour one competition over others -- will you be mainly concentrating on getting good results in the Southern Premier League?" Wiz: "Absolutely, the League is clearly my main focus. We have to get Weymouth League Football as soon as possible. I still want to win other silverware too mind, but obviously we want to do all we can to get out of this division. In the right direction of course." NW: "While some managers are known for their hands-on approach, others are more reserved and lenient with their players. Can you tell us how you see your man-management style Wiz?" Wiz: "I think things work best when players feel that they are valued as human beings, rather than simply footballing 'assets' on a Club's database. I'll be focused on building a fantastic Team Spirit in the dressing room first and foremost. One for All, and All for One! That being said, the one thing I do expect, is that my players give absolutely 100% for the cause at all times. There is no room for slacking off on my watch, and I don't stand for any complacency. I won't 'carry' anyone who is not pulling their weight. It is a team effort. Give me your very best, and I can ask no more from you than that. But equally, I don't take any sh*t from anyone. It is basically a case of buying into what I'm doing here. If you're on board and willing to work very hard every day, you'll love it here, and have no problems at all. If not, best be looking for a new club." AB: "I know you've been watching Weymouth over the last few months yourself Wiz, so you must already have a good idea of what you have at your disposal. So, do you anticipate any problems in that regard?" Wiz: "Nothing I can't handle Adam. There maybe one or two who we'll need to move on, we'll have to wait and see, but on the whole I'm inheriting a very professional and determined squad. Hopefully it should simply be a case of getting my message across, and then motivating them to perform and keep up the levels that I expect of them. I do not anticipate any major problems here." SM: "Ok, I know that Wiz has a lot he wants to get done today, so we'll take three more questions. One each?" MB: "As alluded earlier, you've had some trouble before in publicly controlling your temper, incurring the wrath of the F.A. Is this something we can anticipate further problems with from you?" Wiz: "Damn it Matt!!!" I shouted, in mock outrage, slamming my fist down hard onto the conference table. "I have absolutely no problems with my temper." I paused briefly to chuckle to myself at Matt's startled facial reactions until he realised I wasn't being serious, and added "as to the second part of your question, no. Only to you Matt. It seems that you bring out the worst in me. I'm only messing with you, don't take me too seriously lad. I can't promise I won't still boil over on occasions, no. I'm a passionate guy, and I don't feel the need to censor my feelings. It is simply that I have a win at all costs mentality, and when the team fails because individuals fail the team by not giving everything they have, I cannot allow that to go unanswered. But it is something I'm working on, yes, to try and be a little more restrained, in certain situations. Neil?" NW: "Well, good luck Wiz, for the season ahead. And, can I just ask what your feelings are on your staff and the squad, and if you think you'll need to perform any major surgery to get everything the way you want at the club?" Wiz: "I have to say I've been quite impressed with the set up we already have here, considering where we are at this point in the footballing pecking order. Sure, there will likely be a few changes here and there along the way, but on the whole I'm happy with the tools I currently have at my disposal, and not anticipating any major overhaul. As I say, I see this as a five year project, and naturally our squad is going to evolve over that time, as we are hopefully playing at more and more competitive levels of football. Adam, last word for you? I know how you like it!" I jested with a playful grin. AB: "Haha, thanks Wiz, I think." Adam chuckled. "I'll first wish you all the best for the season, from myself, Dave Merrington and Tristan Pascoe back in the Studio, and all our listeners. And my final question will be -- when are you going to stop wearing that ridiculous cravat?" He laughed, getting his own back on an old friend. Wiz: "Ahh, very good Adam, like that is it eh?" I smiled. "This wonderful piece of woven art, was a parting gift from Paul Tisdale at Exeter. One from his favourite Paul Baker Collection. You bring great dishonour upon it Adam. May you be shamed and cursed for all eternity, and even longer!" I reached forward to shake his hand. "Good to see you again Adam, and good to meet Neil and Matt today too. I guess we'll all be seeing a fair bit of each other over the course of the season, so here's to a strong and positive working relationship. Thank you all for coming." SM: "Yes, I'll just echo Wiz's sentiments. We're an open club, we have a manager who is clearly at home in dealing with the media, and we look forward to working with you all. We just ask in future for a little respect and courtesy in notifying and running by us in advance of any news you plan to break, and you'll find us to be very co-operative and accommodating with access to our club for our thoughts and comment. Thanks to you all and a good afternoon." "How'd I do then Boss?" I smiled, as the Chairman and I walked back down the corridor from our 'state of the art' media centre / box room towards his office. "Very impressive actually that was Wiz. Left me pretty excited for our future with that performance. A little bit on the edge at times I could say, but it was pretty exhilarating, and I think I could get used to it!" He laughed jovially. "How about you Wiz, what did you think?" "I think we need to iron that tablecloth, Mr. Chairman". I smiled sardonically. "Shocking." I shook my head slowly from side to side in faux-disgust. Steve Mills glanced quizically in my direction for a moment, before smiling as he joined my wavelength. "Duly noted." He chuckled. "Well, I'll let you get on now then" he shook my hand as he made for his office door. "Always here for anything you need Wiz, you just have to ask" he smiled supportively. "I now unleash you upon those pre-season preparations I know you've been so looking forward to." "Thanks Mr. Chairman -- I can hardly wait to get started!" Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 2, 2017 Author Share Posted September 2, 2017 Chapter Four: -- The Precarious Perils of Pre-Season [The Financial Reality of Lower League Management Hits Home!] "This is absolutely f*cking ridiculous!!!" I stated out loud in exasperation, as I tried for the third time in row to successfully arrange a suitable pre-season tour for my new team. This f*cking software is completely useless. There is one big database that all clubs can link into and access, where everyone updates their planned schedules, so you can see who might be available and the kind of fixtures that they're looking for, at a glance, without having to waste precious time phoning around. It is a great idea, and in theory should be of great help. But we are Level Seven Weymouth -- and we only have the freeware version. I can still access it to get the basic raw data, but it is much more limited in what I can do with that information, and I cannot for the life of me work out why this bloody thing won't let me plan any kind of tour whatsoever. Steve must be psychic [either that, or he has cameras in my office -- there's a scary thought!] - as he buzzed my internal phone right at that moment. "Hi Wiz, just wanted to see how you're settling into your new office? Anything you need any help with, just let me know," he suggested kindly. Ha. Yeah, before we get to that -- I have to tell you about my new office. I'd imagine that, like me, you thought that Steve was only joking about the shoebox in the broom-cupboard? And like me, you'd be both right, and wrong. Fortunately, he was only joking about the shoebox. I mean, that would have been quite literally impossible for me to even fit into, obviously! So that would've been really bad. But he wasn't joking about the broom-cupboard. My new office, is quite literally -- "in the broom-cupboard, underneath the stairs, next to the toilets" !!! It's ok. You can laugh. I did. The moment Steve first showed it to me was priceless. It's quite a big broom-cupboard, to be fair -- but a broom-cupboard it is, nevertheless. It used to be the old Maintenance Room, where they stored [amongst other things, such as cones and cleaning equipment] -- brooms. Back in the days when Weymouth were regularly competing at the top end of the old Conference Premier and were fully Professional, the Board had decided it was high time their Manager had a proper office space of his own, rather than sharing a desk in the office porta-cabin block, it was decided to convert the "broom-cupboard" to be fit for the purpose. No expense was spared, I can assure you. It really is a lovely broom-cupboard. I mean... if Carlsberg did Broom-Cupboards... this is probably.... anyway, where were we? So yes, Steve called me up in my lovely little broom-cupboard to see how I was settling in, and if I needed any help. And I did as it happened, as I couldn't get this bloody software to let me arrange my pre-season tour. "This freeware version of Fixture List Manager is sh*t Steve". I sighed. "It won't let me arrange a pre-season tour." My Chairman laughed. "Sorry Wiz, but it's not the software that's sh*t -- it is us!" He chuckled, then added "Unfortunately a club of our stature simply does not have the finances for the team to travel far enough, or sufficient full time playing staff to make it remotely viable as an option, so we simply disabled that function on our version of the program." "Ohh... I see." I sighed, unable to conceal the disappointment from my voice. "Damn. I was really looking forward to taking the lads away for a week together for some hard training and team bonding. That is so vital in preparing for the long season ahead." "I really am sorry Wiz, I would love to be able help you out with that, but we simply do not have the available funds." he conceded reluctantly. "Never mind Steve" I said. "Can't be helped. I guess that is just the reality that we face at this level. I can't pretend I'm not disappointed, but I do understand the situation." Steve was happy that it was not going to become a big issue with me, but then I had an idea. "If I was to pay for the travel and accommodation myself Steve, can I at least take the lads away to the Isle of Wight for a few days together and fix up a couple of games out there? Just the act of going away together for a short time really is so important in the process of fostering the kind of Team Spirit I'm looking to establish here." "Sure Wiz," he smiled. "If you're prepared to do that, I can see how important you must feel it is, so I'm more than happy for that to happen. I'll get the Club Secretary to have a ring around of our players for you, and see what kind of a squad we'll be able to assemble, what dates most will be able to get some free time etc. I'll let you know as soon as I have all the info you need to start your planning." "Wonderful!" I smiled. I really don't care about the money. Unlike many of my peers, I didn't squander my share of the obscene riches lavished upon us these days for kicking a piece of inflated pig around a football pitch for a living. I was very careful with my money and invested it wisely. Never been one for fame and living the high life. I was extremely privileged to be paid very well for doing something I love. Something I think a lot of todays players forget all too readily. There is so much money being thrown at the upper reaches of the game these days, that greed often overtakes a player's original passion for playing the game. And that is a very sad thing indeed. It was not ideal -- but at least I would still be able to have some kind of training camp "overseas". Even if it was only just across the Solent for a long weekend. I have plenty of contacts on the Island, and I'm sure my friend Andy Sampson at Newport will be able to help us out with some training facilities at St. Georges Park for a few days. Not perfect, but we will make the best of it. It will be whatever we make it in the end, so I'm feeling much more positive now, that even in limited circumstances, I can still conjure up some kind of meaningful tour to work on our fitness and togetherness as a group. I've always found there is something about travelling over water together that helps build relationships and encourage a feeling of camaraderie. I'm so glad that we'll still be able to harness that experience together with this group, even if it is only an hour and back on a Red Funnel Ferry. It is the voyage, the feeling of 'being away' and the journey itself that counts. Besides... the English Channel is also a great place to dispose of any lazy complacent or gutless players who have not given 100%, on our way back home. If they're fit and committed enough to swim home, and manage to make it back to Weymouth alive -- then just maybe, they could earn themselves a second chance at being a part of this Team. Look out Isle of Wight! Weymouth FC are Officially going On Tour, and we are coming for you!!! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 3, 2017 Author Share Posted September 3, 2017 Chapter Five: -- Live from The Broom Cupboard -- A Man in Demand and Some Very Fishy Documents! It was a hectic first day in The Broom Cupboard. The epicentre and very heart of my covert operations to overthrow the natural order of footballing things, and plot the meteoric rise of the soon to be Mighty Weymouth Football Club. Well, maybe not that soon -- but we will own the not-so-distant future! Hey, if I don't believe it -- then why should my players buy into my vision? Can't be truly passionate about something I don't really believe in. And then, how could I genuinely lead and inspire belief in others? So, Mighty Weymouth it is my friends! I know it sounds ridiculous right now -- but have a little faith! I don't think I've ever fielded so many phone calls in one afternoon before, let alone a whole day. It really took me by surprise. Trying to get anything done, and there goes that bloody phone again. Agents, more agents, questions from club staff, a couple of journalists, even more agents, and the thing that blew me away more than anything else, the sheer volume of well-wishers, old friends from within the game, taking a moment out of their busy schedules to call the new manager of little old insignificant Weymouth, to wish me all the best in my new role. It was incredibly humbling. One call in particular though, was the least expected of all, and meant more to me than anything else. A voice I'd not heard in a long while, but recognised instantly. It was coming up on 6pm and I was about ready to shut down for the day and stop by the Chairman's office for a chat on my way out, just a few more ideas to get typed down on page, and I'd be off, when that damned phone interrupted my thoughts yet again. "Yes, Robinson" I answered grumpily. "Now, is that any way to greet your old boss when 'e takes the time t' call and wish yee all the best in your new job son!?" the unmistakable thick heavy accent thundered back. I was amazed. He was far away from home and busy preparing his Scotland squad to face Liechtenstein, and yet here was my old mentor on the other end of my phone. It was only WGS himself! "O Captain, my Captain!" I replied deferentially, only half in jest. "Wow! Gordon. It is great to hear your voice!" What an honour! You've probably already gathered, but Gordon Strachan was more than just another manager to me. He was my Leader, and my guide. A Southampton Legend. He was a double-hard b*stard, and a harsh taskmaster. The Sergeant Major of our Football Club, a firm disciplinarian - dishing out his very own inimitable fire-brand of 'tough-love', to make us all into better, well-drilled soldiers, for deploying on his tactical battlefield. He improved every one of us, and made us into far more than the sum of our parts. And we all loved him. Underlying his tough exterior, is a very warm, jovial, pastoral and inspirational man. He genuinely cared for us as people, and there was never anyone else I'd rather have had in my corner, looking out for me, and forever pushing me to be the best that I could be. I would never have been the player I was, if it wasn't for Wee Gordon. He once took me aside after one particular training session where he'd been even more scathing than usual of my contribution. And what he said then always stayed with me. "Right now son, you are probably thinking you don't want to hear anything else I have to say" he began, placing an arm around my shoulders. "Probably thinking I'm a right old c*nt too, eh?" he smiled kindly. "And you'd be right. I am. When I need to be. I came down very hard on you today Wiz, because there is a whole lot more in there you have to give, and something is holding you back. It is my job to get it out of you. Force it out if I must, because otherwise, you're gonna be just another one who gets let go, and wastes away a promising career. I'm not harsh on you cos I think you're sh*t son, but because you've actually got potential, and I see you squandering it. You're floating around on the periphery of games lad, when you should be taking hold of and running them. You've got the ability, but you seem scared to use it! All these fancy tricks and showboating, but you're flattering to deceive and there's f*ck all end product. You want to look good Wiz, and I want you to actually be good. And that is the difference. I'm hard on you because there is a lot more to come, and I want to start seeing it from you! If I didn't have faith in you, I wouldn't be wasting my time. Get stuck in to games lad! I want to see less of this bulls*t flicky b*llocks giving the ball away, more blood and guts, more energy, more desire. Express yourself out there. You lose it, I want to see a fire in your eyes to win it back! Hard work always comes first! Then, maybe then, you earn the right to start taking the p*ss." It's maybe not word for word, but you get the essense of his message. And it really sunk in. Almost changed me overnight, or at least my attitude on the pitch. Gordon's words had fired me up to want to prove a point. And I discovered that I absolutely loved flying into the tackles I was previously afraid I'd get injured in. He was right. I was holding something back. Careers in football are so short and so few ever make it. I was inwardly terrified of getting a bad injury, and although it was mostly subconscious, I would tend to avoid potentially dangerous situations if I could. But not anymore. I was a different player. And the harder I worked, the more I grew addicted to the adrenalin the aggressive side of my game brought out, as I'd charge around the pitch, imposing myself, and earning the right to play, as Gordon would say. He simply gave me the courage to express that side of myself in the game. Anyway, I wander. It's just the way I write. Raw, pure unfiltered stream of consciousness. Words come, and I simply select the best ones, write them down, and weave them all together into some form of loosely structured, mostly fluid narrative. Kind of like the way I love to play the game. "Boss?" I asked, making the most of the opportunity of speaking with the legend that was currently on the other end of my phone, "you remember the time when you told me that you were a c*nt?" I chuckled. "Aye lad" Gordon laughed. "And I've nae changed much!" "Then I hope you'll take it the right way, when I say, thank you so much for being such a c*nt, Gordon!" I laughed out loud. "I never would've made it, or become the man I am today, without you always driving me on to be the best that I could be. I've learned so much from you, and now I have the chance to give something back, and be a c*nt like you myself." "Nah, don't be like me son." he chuckled. "Take what you've learned, then go and be your own kind of c*nt, to inspire the next generation" he enthused. "As long as there are enough c*nts like us in the game to produce them, there will always be good players," my mentor advised. "Keep up the good work Wiz, best of luck, and you always know where I am if you ever need my help or guidance." It meant so much, to know that even now, my old gaffer was still looking out for me, and willing me to be the best I can be. No sooner than that call had ended, and another one was lighting up my phone. Grrrr. The bloody thing is about to go out the window! Ohh, it's the Chairman, better take that then. "Still here Wiz I see?" "Yep, every time I get close to finishing, the phone rings again," I laughed. "Ahh, sorry." Steve chuckled. "Working late myself tonight too, we're just sending out for some Fish & Chips, if you'd like to join us?" he offered. "Sounds good Boss" I agreed. "Will be down in about fifteen minutes, after I pull this phone out of the wall, and finish my write up." I literally did disconnect the damned thing. Had to, or I'd have never made it out of the broom cupboard that night. I finished my writing, shut down my lap-top, and found Steve and a few others down in the Club Lounge, ready to tuck in. "Ahh, Wiz, glad you could join us" Steve enthused, beckoning me over to where he was holding court in one of an array of deep burgundy leather sofas, set around a big old thick varnished oak table. Mmmm. The unmistakably wonderful aroma of fish and chips, doused in salt and vinegar, wafted invitingly towards me. "Cod, Plaice, or Haddock?" The Chairman offered. "Plaice please" I said, pulling up a spare mahogany chair. Mmmm. Delicious. I'd just finished adding a healthy dollop of Hellman's Real Mayonnaise to my plate, when Natalie, my personal assistant burst into the room. "Oh, there you are Wiz! I couldn't find you." "You've found me now Natalie, despite my best efforts" I joked. "What can I do for you?" "I have these files you requested" she said, "sorry they took so long", as she reached across the table to hand them to me. Unfortunately, the edge of her jacket sleeve chose that moment to catch the corner of a chair, and the contents of said files emptied themselves into my plate of freshly mayo'd fish and chips! "Ohh god, I'm so sorry! I must've completely ruined your first day!" Natalie fussed, frantically attempting to rescue the carefully procured documents I'd been waiting all day for." "Not at all" I reassured her. "Don't worry about it. Now that you're here with my paperwork, everything is falling into plaice..." 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Wisła Posted September 5, 2017 Author Share Posted September 5, 2017 Chapter Six: -- Finalising Fixtures and Fire From Heaven Jason Matthews may not be particularly good at managing football teams, but he is a good bloke, and he makes amazing bacon and scrambled egg sandwiches! Maybe I should put him in charge of catering rather than coaching. Secondary Role? I'm looking forward to getting the chance to sort out my own place down here, but I'm sure gonna miss breakfasts at the Matthews house. My second day in the Broom Cupboard began with some relatively early good news, once I had cottoned onto and sorted out something of an issue which was a carry-over from yesterday. It had been a surprisingly quiet start to the day. Too quiet in fact, that it was beginning to become somewhat eerie. Yesterday that bloody phone was ringing off the wall, and today, not a single call. That's when the realisation struck. I never plugged it back in after ripping it out of the wall last night. The silence was so wonderful, and I managed to get so much done in that first uninterrupted hour, that even once it had dawned on me, I semi-seriously considered pretending that I hadn't noticed and leaving things that way for as long as possible, but I knew I could not hide myself away in the broom cupboard forever, so I did the 'professional' thing. The morning's activities quickly picked up pace after that. Now that my "connectivity issues" had been resolved, word quickly reached me from the Club secretary via Steve's enthusiastic call, that having reached out to all of our currently holidaying players, the vast majority of the squad were able and even happy to report back in to work a week earlier than previously expected, in order to impress their new manager. Fantastic. But even better news is that we've been able to get enough players together at the same time, that Steve has kindly sanctioned us a full week away for a training camp on the Isle of Wight, and I'll be looking to get three fixtures scheduled for our time out on the island. Saturday Wednesday Saturday. A hard week of training behind us, a well earned relaxing and spirit building ferry ride home for the grafters, and a very long swim across the solent for anyone who lets the Club down by giving anything less than their best. Now I could finally get to work on something that I really enjoy, in putting together our carefully constructed Pre-Season Itinerary. It proved to be a lot more difficult than I had imagined. For some odd reason that I cannot begin to fathom -- no one half decent seemed overly excited at the possibility of taking on the might of Weymouth FC. Too scared of being embarrassed, that's what it is, I told myself, doing my best to sound convincing. Getting the 'overseas' trip all sorted out was a breeze, making good use of my contacts across the solent on the beautiful Vectensian Isle. We would set up our training base, as I'd hoped, at Newport's St. George's Park, as they would not be beginning pre-season until a week after us, and my man Andy Sampson was happy to help us out with the needs of our short notice preparations. It was arranging the right 'level' of subsequent games back on the mainland once we got home that was proving to be the problem. Pre-Season is something most managers look to get done and dusted in May, once the previous season has ended. Taking this job as I am, early in June, I'm already at a massive disadvantage on that front. Most clubs have already filled their itinerary, and I have to take my place along with all the other latecoming vultures, to pick over the scraps that are left. "Love to Wiz, I really would, but we simply don't have enough space in our schedule, sorry mate!" F*ck sake. Can't even get a game with my "friends" at Torquay! What now?! Rearrange the words around a bit, add or subtract a few here and there, and it was a recurring message I heard throughout the remainder of the morning. I simply had to do the best I could with what little I had left to work with. And under the circumstances, I'm relatively content with the schedule I ended up cobbling together. A nice test against local rivals Dorch to kick things off before heading off to the island, followed by some at least reasonably 'competitive' games, leading into a tough start to the campaign at the Camrose, and then Dorchester again for real. My stomach was telling me that I was late for lunch, but I just wanted to get that one last elusive fixture scheduled with at least some kind of interesting foreign side, for our last weekend Home game before the season proper began. It was some hard graft, I tell you. But eventually, after some quick thinking and a few calls to one of our Club Sponsors at Condor Ferries, who operate a service link there, we managed to use their contacts to secure an intriguing visit from French side AS Cherbourg. Hey, I would have preferred AS Monaco, but apparently they were too busy. This was the best I could do. And I'll take it. | Date | Time | Opposition | Venue | | Result | Competition | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Wed, 6/7/2016 | 19:45 | Dorchester | H | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Sun, 10/7/2016 | 15:00 | Shanklin | A | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Wed, 13/7/2016 | 19:30 | East Cowes Sports | A | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Sat, 16/7/2016 | 15:00 | West Wight | A | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Tue, 19/7/2016 | 19:45 | Exmouth | H | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Sat, 23/7/2016 | 15:00 | AKA Red Bull Salzburg | H | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Tue, 26/7/2016 | 19:45 | Minehead | A | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Fri, 29/7/2016 | 19:45 | Salisbury FC | H | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Mon, 1/8/2016 | 19:45 | Portland Utd | A | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Fri, 5/8/2016 | 19:45 | AS Cherbourg | H | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Mon, 8/8/2016 | 19:45 | Trowbridge | H | | | Friendly | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Sat, 13/8/2016 | 15:00 | Basingstoke | A | | | Southern Premier | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Wed, 17/8/2016 | 19:45 | Dorchester | H | | | Southern Premier | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- | Sat, 20/8/2016 | 15:00 | Stratford | A | | | Southern Premier | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Soon it wasn't only my rumbling gut telling me it was time to eat, but my Assistant Manager too. And that was where the afternoon started to get a little, weird. This was how the conversation played out, when Jase called my mobile: "Hey Wiz, been waiting down in the canteen for you for a while? I was hoping we could go through our plans for the squad over lunch?" "Sure Jase, I've just been a little pre-occupied with sorting out Pre-Season and lost track of time. I'll be down in a couple of minutes." "Very good Lord. As you wish," he ended the conversation. Ha. Lord. Boss I quite like, but now he's just taking the p*ss, I smiled to myself. Right, food is very much needed, so I grabbed my laptop and a few other bits, and headed out of my broom cupboard door, making for the canteen. "Hi Lord!" Natalie greeted me as she was passing in the corridor, seemingly through supressed giggles. What the f*ck? I thought to myself, mentally scratching my head. The confusion must've still been evident on my face, as I stopped by the Chairman's office to drop off a copy of my freshly assembled schedule. "Everything OK Wiz?" Steve ventured, looking a touch concerned. "You seem like your mind is somewhere else?" "Oh, no, it's nothing Steve." I reassured him. "Just been a bit of a weird couple of minutes" I laughed. "OK, I'm glad it's nothing serious" he smiled. "I won't keep you from your lunch then," he laughed. "Lord". "Ohh, come on, " I laughed. "What is all this 'Lord' stuff all about then?" I wanted to know. "You're the third person in the last few minutes to call me that!" I insisted. "Am I missing a joke somewhere Steve?" "Have a look at this week's copy of the Non-League Paper when you get down to the canteen Wiz", he smiled with a wink. "All will be revealed". Hmmm. The Non League Paper. That was that Matt Badcock sap's rag, wasn't it? I wonder what he's been up to? I didn't have to wait long to find out. As I approached my smirking ass-man's canteen table, he had made a point of having a copy handy to immediately slide in my direction: Quote "Messiah Stuns Lowly Weymouth with Long Awaited Second Coming!!!" By Matt Badcock. As if Wiz Robinson's return to Weymouth was not already a Media-Worthy event in itself -- his bold proclaimation of being the re-incarnation of Jesus certainly caught the attention! In a typically fiesty and at times foul-mouthed exchange with the media in attendance to welcome him into his new role in Management, Wiz once again demonstrated his 'colourful character' -- childishly mocking the unfortunate surname of this writer, before proceeding to demonstrate he has learned little in anger management, since the 'incident' as he refers to it, when one of his infamous explosions reduced the poor fifteen year old children of the Exeter City youth team to tears and left them fearing for their safety. Robinson wasted little time in flying off the handle at a question posed to gauge the likelihood of his being able to control his temper in future 'incidents' he may encounter. Having angrily slammed his fist into the 'makeshift' Conference table, the new Weymouth boss attempted to play down his tantrum as some kind of joke. Yes, very funny Wiz. What will be genuinely amusing though, is to follow his progress through his first season in charge at the Bob Lucas Stadium. Wiz promised us 'entertainment', and that is at least one thing we can agree on. Wiz Robinson is always that. Only maybe not always in quite the manner he intends. If he struggles to retain his composure managing a bunch of little kids, let's see how much fun he will find a dressing room full of adults with their own equally strong opinions. Wiz was an explosive player in his day, and remains an explosive and highly volatile man, tentatively poised, and ready to go off 'half-cocked' at the slightest irritation. It worked for him on the pitch, but management is for grown-ups, and both his ability and mentality for management remains to be seen. Can he even make it through til Christmas without unleashing the wrath of god upon us, and calling down fire from heaven? Christ only knows. And if He knows -- then it's a safe bet that Wiz does too. In the meantime, just to err on the safe side of potential eternal damnation -- it's probably best that we start addressing him as Lord. Is Wiz Robinson really Weymouth's long awaited Messiah? Or is he just a very naughty boy? "I'll let you decide." Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 10, 2017 Author Share Posted September 10, 2017 Chapter Seven: -- Squad Selection and a Question of Metaphysics "Brutal!" Jason Matthews offered, still trying hard to suppress his need to errupt into fits of laughter. "Laugh it up Jase, please, don't let me stop you!" I finally broke his resolve, joining in with a good chuckle myself. "Brilliant! That is absolutely priceless!!!" I said. "I am going to frame this, and put it up on the broom cupboard wall." I grinned, folding the copy of The Non League Paper carefully in two, and making to slip it into my laptop case. "Do you mind?" I asked, catching his eye. "Not at all mate, be by guest", he gestured with his outstretched arm, still in the throes of amusement, as I tucked away the piece of comedy gold for future reference. "It doesn't bother you, that he basically lied and completely twisted your words out of context to have a very public laugh at your expense!?" Jason asked, seemingly with an element of surprise, as he finally managed to bring his laughter under control. "Ha. Bother me? . . . Not in the slightest," I chuckled. "It is the fact that he thinks he knows me, and actually believes he got under my skin, that I find so funny, when clearly, he does not know me at all" I responded, with a cheshire cat-like grin stretching across my face. "I also think it's quite amusing to picture him probably sat there now, imagining his little 'hit-piece' riling me right up a treat, when in reality, I rather admired his wit and creativity, not to mention his balls to brazenly misrepresent what I said in such a fashion as to fit his story. Sure, I'll give you that I don't particularly like someone making up sh*te about me, but he's clearly just baiting me, and fully expecting that I'll 'bite' in some way. And besides, it was great storycraft. Sometimes you just have to give credit where it's due, even if it is at your expense," I smiled. "I can probably have a lot of fun with this guy over the course of the season." Jason laughed again. "Must say that wasn't quite the response I was expecting from you either," he conceded, taking a sip from his claret and sky blue Weymouth mug. "I'm full of surprises mate!" I laughed. "But seriously Jase, the opinion of some lame hack like Badcock is water off a duck's back to me. My 'give-a-f*ck-ometer' is completely unmoved. Doesn't even register a blip on my radar." "Yeah, I can see that!" he smiled. "It's a popular misconception that people have of me in general" I continued, whilst covering my freshly served steaming hot Tuna Pasta Bake in lashings of cracked black pepper. "That Wiz Robinson is this furious volcanic erruption just waiting to happen at any moment. But it's actually completely untrue. Yes, I'm a passionate guy, but I am still a very calm, easy-going person, most of the time anyway. One thing however, really p*sses me off, and then I do lose it. And that's where the bad rep comes from," I smiled. "Let me guess, underperforming players?!" Jason suggested confidently. "Right. To an extent anyway, but it's a little more complex than that," I explained. "Let me ask you, can you under-perform, yet still be trying your very best?" I put it to my assistant. "I guess. Everyone has days when nothing you do seems to go right for you, no matter how hard you try." "Right." I nodded approvingly. "What blows my fuse is when someone under performs because they simply don't care enough or are too lazy to make the effort for the Team. It is individuals, letting the Team down, because they think they can get away with not putting a full shift in, that really p*sses me off. Lack of Professionalism, basically, and if you distill it down to its essence, a lack of respect. Give me a squad full of sh*te players who fully give a f*ck and completely invest themselves in our cause, and I will find a way to make a decent football team out of them. But a group of good players who don't give a f*ck is worth nothing to me." "Our lot should be right up your street then Wiz!" He joked. "Not a lot of quality, but plenty of heart and determination in this squad" Jase assured me. "Agreed," I stated bluntly. "Though from what I saw in the last few months of last season, there is plenty for me to work with here," I added optimistically. "At this level, and no offense meant my friend," I reassured him, "we should have had more than enough to blow this division away. For whatever reason, it just didn't work out last term. Plenty of effort, but a lack of concentration at key moments and waaay too many late goals conceded simply cost you too many points." "You don't have to worry about offending me Wiz," my assistant smiled. "I know my own limitations. I only ever stepped up to help out in our terrible time of crisis after the Administration and catastrophic relegations that followed. Never fancied myself as a manager at all. I have the tactical accumen of a single celled aquatic organism mate!" he laughed. "I wouldn't have been that harsh Jase," I smiled, "everyone knows you gave it your best under difficult circumstances." "You watched a lot of us Wiz. Where do you think I most went wrong?" "Set up mate," I stated bluntly. "Your mentality was far too defensive. But you were a Keeper, so I do understand," I winked. "You were set up to try not to lose. Your focus was so much on not conceding, that our creativity was stifled. Not enough forward movement, or bravery on the ball. Always the 'safe' option taken," I offered my honest assessment. "I hope you're ready for some big changes!?" I laughed. "The way I'm intending to have us playing is going to make your head spin!" "Lead the way, Lord!" he joked, getting up from his seat at the table, "and your humble disciple shall follow as best I can." Jason grinned and left me tucking into my meal, whilst he went to get a refill for his coffee cup. After lunch, we moved our disscussion through to the Home Dressing Room, to make use of the Tactics Boards. Have to say it felt strange, being back in there, after so long away. So many memories. It was weird, Southampton is in my blood through and through, but somehow, I felt like I was home. Like I belonged here. Like this was my Club. This place reeks of the past, I thought to myself. A past mostly associated with disappointment and failure. The old dressing room was showing its age, and looking very tired. Faded light blue walls with flaking, peeling paint work. The same old ageing wooden benches, that left more than one splinter in my arse all those years ago, still no doubt breaching the backsides of the current generation. Not much better than your standard run-of--the-mill sunday league park changing rooms, I thought. This dressing room, in its current state of disrepair, pretty much epitomised what has become of this great club. Instead of pushing on when we had the chance and really developing the significant potential that Weymouth has, we slipped back to its lowly roots, and settled for perrenial part-time mediocrity. The whole place needs a massive shake-up, and it gave me an idea. I'll leave you hanging for now, and get to that later, because today was really all about discussing the team, and going over our plans, and that is what I want to get down on page in this enthralling installment. Hey! Wake up!!! "Where shall we start then boss?" my assistant asked, taking a seat and a long swig from his mug. "You drink too much coffee," I smiled. "You will too, once you've been here a few weeks" he laughed. "Well, let's start at the beginning," I said. "Always seems like the best place to start," I added with a wry smile. "What have we got? What don't we want? And what do we need? I asked, as I drew up three separate columns in black marker pen on the whiteboard in front of me. "I've watched the lads for a while, and I've read through your own reports, so let's discuss and start making plans." "Ok," Jason lept from his seat to grab a marker from the board, "I'll start by listing all our current squad then, but before I do, from what you've seen so far, is there anyone you already know you want rid of? No point in even including anyone you're not happy with." "Agreed," I nodded, picking up a red marker, and moving to the right side of the board and the second column. "For me, these are the lads who were just not cutting it last season, and letting you down," I began writing: Mark Cooper LB (24)Jordan Copp CM / all down Left side (22)Chris Shephard LM (27)Dean Evans MID (29) Stewart Yetton ST (30) "For me, none of these first four lads offered anything like enough, and I really don't see anything in them I can work with" I stated. "And I've added Yetton too, not for lack of effort, but he just doesn't fit into my plans." "I would mostly agree boss," Jason replied, "but maybe a bit harsh on Stew? He did manage 18 goals in 46 appearances for me. I thought you'd like him Wiz, he is very determined!" "Yes, he's not a bad player, but unfortunately, with the way I play, there just isn't a role for him here, and with his age, last year of contract, it is in his own best interests to find another club. He's got the right mentality, sure, but he's simply too short and far too slow to play in my Advanced Forward role. He's a penalty box player. Yes, he'll get you goals with the right service, but I need much more pace, movement and mobility from my front man. Not to mention height." "Fair enough boss," he conceded, "You'll probably like the look of the two Harry's up top then?" "Indeed. Very much so," I agreed. "Plenty to work with there. Anyway, over to you Jase, stick the first team squad up, and let's see what we're left with." Jason took the blue pen, and began filling in the white space before him: Goalkeepers: Nick Thomas - [25] - signed on a free just before you arrived. That's it, unless you want to dig into the youth squads. Defence: Calvin Brooks - [22] - D (RC), WB (R) Dane James - [18] - D (RC), WB (R) Ashley Wells - [23] - D (RC), DM - CAPTAIN Jake McCarthy - [20] - D (C) Tiago Sa - [18] - D/WB (L) Midfield: Lewis Harvey - [17] - DM, M (C) Liam Farrugia - [18] - M (C), AM (LC) Dan Smith - [27] - M/AM (RL) (Signed from Tiverton on a free before you arrived, 3rd spell here inc 1 loan) Charlie Davis - [21] - M/AM (C) (from Dorch on a free last month) Forwards: Ben Thompson - [27] - M (LC), AM (L) ST (C) Harry Baker - [25] - M/AM (RLC), ST (C) Aaron Rodriguez - [19] - M/AM (RC), ST (C) Brandon Goodship - [21] - AM (R), ST (C) Harry McGrath - [17] - ST (C) "There's a few promising young lads in the age-group sides you might want to take a closer look at, but this is pretty much what we're left with as our First Team Squad. I see a lot of holes Wiz." He was right. A lot of holes. Holes that needed filling, and preferably without using any square pegs. But, I was happy. This is a great base to work from. It is a squad that is blessed with a lot of positional versatility, which is very important in the deepest darkest depths of the semi-professional Southern League Premier. And I have inherited some good players for this level, particularly in the Forward ranks. I remain absolutely amazed that we still have Aaron Rodriguez at the Club. He is a class act, and capable of playing at a much higher level. But he's a Weymouth lad, and he loves the Club. We've been lucky so far. Came through every one of our Youth sides, and has great potential to improve further still. Aaron has scored 39 goals, in 63 League Appearances for us, and I'm mystified that no bigger clubs have come in for him yet. Don't get me wrong, I plan on hanging onto to Aaron for as long as I possibly can, and will not be accepting any bids for him, certainly not this season. We can build a side around this lad. But I'm not naive enough to think there won't come a time he'll likely feel that he has outgrown us, and needs to move on for his career. Unless of course, I can turn this ship around, and get us moving up through the leagues nice and quickly. The better we become ourselves, the more chance of keeping him at the Club. Harry Baker too is a player I really like a lot. Scored some cracking goals for us last campaign. You couldn't find a much more determined attacker. He works hard for the side, can play naturally pretty much anywhere across the final third, and is even competant in deeper roles if the need arises. He's a proper forward, and at 6' 2", can hold his own in the air, to compliment his technical ability. Left footed, but good with both, a free-kick specialist, and with 10 goals in 26 so far in his Weymouth career, Harry is another lad who is currently playing at a level or two below his true abilities. We'll do well to hold on to him. Ben Thompson is another lad I have a lot of time for. Reminds me of a lower league version of myself as a player. This lad has a lot of heart and passion, works his arse off for the team, and has a combative aggression that is right up my street. It is just a shame that he is already beginning to approach his twilight seasons for a left winger. Still, I could well get another good three years or so out of him yet. Just would've been nice to have Ben at his best for a while longer. I'll save a special word for Centre Back and Club Captain Ashley Wells. Weymouth born and bred, came through our youth system, spending his whole career here so far, and at the age of 23, is already about to start his sixth season with the Club, having made 170 League Appearances, scoring five goals. Ash is Mr. Reliable, and a real leader for the side. All the lads look up to him, and he is a real rock and a massive presence at the back. After spending the afternoon discussing our players in great detail, we decided that if we have ambitions to compete on all fronts -- then we'd need to bring in another seven players, and offload at least five that were deemed of no further use. "One 'keeper, three defenders, two physical proper box-to-box central midfielders with good passing ability, and one defense minded utility man for back up," I summarized aloud. "I'm happy with our attacking options as they are, but our only real out and out Target Man Harry McGrath is still just 17 and I don't want to burn him out. So probably add an 8th to the incoming list, and I'll look to loan in some more aerial support for a season." "Sounds good boss, any ideas yourself, or do we leave it to Glynn Ross [our Chief Scout] to come up with some suggestions?" "Leave it with me for now Jase," I said, putting the lids back onto our marker pens. "I have a few good friends in the game who may be able to help us out under the radar, without getting into any bidding wars and risking losing out to other clubs. I've got a few ideas, and if they're available, my friendships may just open a few doors for us to get in there first." "Sounds exciting WIz! Got any names?" "Ahh, don't really want to jinx things by getting ahead of myself mate," I laughed. "But I'll say that there are a few young lads at Bournemouth and another at Exeter City that I quite like, and may fit the bill nicely. But I'll need to have a chat with both Eddie and Paul first to assess the situations." And there must end today's journal entry. I have a very promising sounding Apartment to view shortly in a nice leafy part of town, offering a lot less seagull activity, so don't want to be late and miss out on the opportunity. It even has a lovely balcony with views across the harbour in the distance, and overlooks the local woods nearby. If you're into metaphysics -- please ask your future selves to keep your fingers crossed! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 15, 2017 Author Share Posted September 15, 2017 Chapter Eight: -- A Shared History: The Heartwarming Tale of Two Men Who Are Repeatedly Punched in the Face. It has been a very busy few days, with little opportunity to update my journal, and there's a quite a lot to bring you up to speed on, so this'll be a bit of a mix and match entry. Let's start with some excellent news, and the announcement of a new link up for the Club, as my good contacts have been put to use to secure an Affilliate Relationship with my former club at AFC Bournemouth. This will be of massive benefit to our Club, with the potential to access some quality players. Speaking of accessing quality players, I have indeed been busy! My good friend and former Bournemouth Team-mate Eddie Howe has been extremely good to us. Five of the eight incoming players I said that I needed, will be arriving from The Cherries! We still have a few things to finalise over the next few days in some cases, but I am delighted to say that central midfielders Josh Carmichael and Josh Wakefield have already agreed contracts with us. Both are quality players with a lot of potential, and should be stand out performers at this level. They each were into the last month of their current deals, and Eddie was honest enough to tell them that it was unlikely they would be renewed, but that we were interested in them to play key roles for us. Eddie kindly set up a meeting for us, along with two other Cherries lads in a similar situation, and I was given the opportunity to sell the club and our project here to them all. As an ex-Cherries legend myself, they did not take too much convincing to want to come and work with me. Defenders Callum Buckley and the highly experienced International Stéphane Zubar are the other two. Discussions are going very well with them, and we expect to tie them up in the next couple of days. In addition, we have also acquired 17 year old promising 'Keeper Mark Travers from our friends at Dean Court, however Bournemouth insisted on a Buy Back Clause for Mark, due to his significant potential. But we have him for now, and that is a great boost for us in the keeper department. Jason is very happy! I wanted their gigantic young Striker Sam Surridge in on loan too, but unfortunately he felt we were too far below his level. And he was right, but hey, it was worth a try. So I'm currently exploring other contacts on the Target Man front. And just as proof that unlike some would have you believe, I am not completely hated by the youngsters at Exeter City, I am also very pleased to have captured the signature of 18 year old Toby Down, another very promising left footed Defender who is equally comfortable playing both Left and Centre. All in all, an excellent few days work, full of positive news, and not only on the football front either. The apartment I went to view is indeed going to be perfect for what I need right now. A six month rental agreement has been signed, which will give me plenty of time to find myself something more permanent, to add to my already impressive portfolio. That's where all my football related income earned over the years went. Whilst many of my peers were drinking and gambling it all away living the high life in the fast lane, I was busy investing in the property market. The career of a pro footballer is short. And there's not much else I'm fit to do, so it was important that I made sure I would never have to work again, and look after that money. A good half of my career was spent kicking around in the lower leagues with AFCB, and whilst my income was still very nice for the man on the street, it was not that much in footballing terms. What really made the difference was my four years spent in the Championship earning upto £20k a week basic. All in all, my playing career netted me in the region of a cool £5 Million, and I took very good care of it. Of the twelve properties I own outright, seven have been converted into multiple flats, and I basically live a comfortable but not lavish existence on the income I receive from them in rent. The other five properties are for personal and family use, including two in foreign climes for holiday homes. But there is still enough left in the kitty to acquire something very comfortable for myself in Weymouth. I'm planning on sticking around for a while, so it makes both personal and financial sense. Southampton will always be Home for me and I'll still be spending a lot of my time there, but I like to feel settled, and having a 'home away from home' down here to call my own is very important, so that I can give my all to the job. It's only a couple of hours commute each way, but sometimes it's just not practical when there's a lot on, so I need that option available to me. But whilst I have my property agents out on the hunt, this lovely two bedroom apartment in the woods will suffice for now, and I am getting ready to start moving a few things in there tomorrow. All of which means, that tonight will be my last as a temporary resident at the Matthews House. So we decided to make a night of it, and get a nice bottle of 25 year old Glenmorangie single malt in to help "see me off". Tomorrow is due to be the first 'day off' I've allowed myself since starting my new role anyway, so it doesn't really matter if I'm a little worse for wear. It proved to be quite an enlightening night, in more ways than one. Jase had just returned from cracking some fresh ice in the kitchen, and we were about halfway through the bottle, when he suddenly came out with: "You know Natalie fancies you Wiz, don't you?" "What?" I laughed. "What makes you say that?" "I know these kinds of things mate" he laughed, with a wink. "Never figured you for a psychic Jase", I teased him, taking another sip from my glass, and swirling the melting ice cubes around in the remainder of the fast diminishing amber nectar. "Don't have to be, "he smiled. "It's just about reading people. That, and she did happen to ask me if you have a girlfriend," he chuckled, leaning forward to top up his tumbler. "And I do," I smiled, "so it's kind of irrelevant anyway. But thanks for the heads up. I take it you did tell her I'm seeing Amy?" "Ahhh, not in quite so many words" he grinned sheepishly. "I don't think I like the sound of that Jase!" I laughed, emptying my glass. "What exactly did you say then?" "Well, we were still joking about that Matt Badcock article, and what she actually said was 'does our Lord have a girlfriend?' So I replied 'Our Lord moves in mysterious ways!" he burst out in laughter. "Great. Thanks Jase. Glad you cleared that up for me then, mate!" I rolled my eyes skyward in mock disgust, but had to see the funny side. As the evening wore on, our mutual amber coloured friend 'Glen' was taking its toll, moreso on Jason than me, which was apparently because he "used less ice" than me. Haha. But it was time to start settling down for the night, and Jason retired to his bedroom, leaving me to finish off the last glass and a half or so left in the bottle. I used the alone time to fire up my laptop and have a look through some of the documents Steve had emailed through to me on the history of the Club. I skimmed through our vast list of honours [/irony] which essentially amounts to six non-league titles and a couple of insignificant Cups. I'm already pretty well informed on that front, but it was good to read through some of the material that went into much more depth than is publicly available on all the behind the scenes stuff from the torrid times surrounding the years of financial difficulties, which ended in Administration, the CVA that was "Voluntarily Agreed" at virtual gunpoint, points deductions, a relegation due to financial implosion, player walkout and having to field the Youth Team, and another relegation due to subsequently being rather sh*te. It was a story that shared many parallels with the fiscal misfortunes of my Home town Saints. A website that became familiar to me over the years as a passionate Southampton fan, was punch-a-celebrity.com. During the financial catastrophy of "The Lowe Years" as we refer to the period under the frugal dictatorship of Chairman Rupert Lowe, it became a popular pastime on the forums to get Rupert to the site's all time number one most punched face. At one point, we had the f*cker right up there in the Top Three, along with Neil Lennon [Irene has a lot of time on her hands] and Tony Blair. Now there's true dedication for you! Southampton General Hospital was inundated with finger injuries and wrist strains due to serious overuse, whilst PC World and Argos reported record highs in mouse and keyboard sales. The bloke was not well liked, is what I'm saying. In times of crisis at your club, when there seems nothing you yourself can do, a quick trip to punch-a-celebrity.com can be very theraputic. Unfortunately a place on England's beautiful South Coast is not the only thing the football club and fans of Southampton share in common with their Weymouth counterparts. Both Clubs had a Chairman who was not content with bringing financial ruin upon their clubs only once - before being ousted, but had the disastrous temerity to come back for a second spell, to well and truly finish the job. To say Ian Ridley was "unpopular" in Weymouth would be an understatement, but that was nothing compared to feelings about the man who acquired the Club out of Administration, and would prove to become an even more divisive and disliked figure still! During Chairman George Rolls spell at the club, Weymouth fans too, became intimately acquainted with the well worn digital canvass of that same virtual boxing ring, which remains forever stained with the crimson pixels of Rupert Lowe's blood. Punch a Celebrity became the Gold Standard for a generation of just how hated a public figure has become. And if we're going to use that as a popularity measure -- then between the fans of Cambridge United, Weymouth and Kettering Town, according to the site in question -- George Rolls has been repeatedly punched in the face more than seven million times. And that in itself, is a comforting thought. His rein of terror will forever remain as an ugly scar on the proud history of this fantastic football club, but through the sheer will, love and dedication of the fans and local business owners, we are still standing, and have an exciting future ahead. Thanks to the work of Nigel Biddlecombe and the WFCSA [Weymouth FC Supporters Association], this club will never be owned by one man again, and the fans will always have their say in the running of their Club. I really feel that if things go our way, we can build something special here. I want to grow this club into something the town can be really proud of, and write some history of our own. And with that, I must sign off for sleep, to dream about bacon and scrambled egg sandwiches. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 17, 2017 Author Share Posted September 17, 2017 Chapter Nine: -- A Fine Line: Trolling the Trolls, and Building Bridges. A hectic day off is all done and dusted. I drove back to Southampton this morning to collect a few essentials, touch base with family, and then took Amy out for lunch in Ocean Village. With the whirlwind nature of my unexpected arrival at Weymouth, and subsequent initial heavy workload, my time has been at a premium, and after quite a few days away, it was good to see her. We spent an enjoyable few hours together, but then it was time for me to head back to the land of massive seagulls, and start making my new dwelling place look and feel like home. The day seemed to flash by in a blur, and then I was watching the beautiful deep orange glow of the low evening sun, slowly dripping into Weymouth harbour from my new balcony. First night in my new place, and all set for a nice evening in, alone. Wonderful. It can be rare, but I love to have time to spend with nothing but my own company. A nice glass of fine cognac, and time to sit down for a quick read through the message boards. Even though I'm no longer there, I've always liked to keep up with the goings on at Saints and Cherries. They will always be "my clubs". But now that I am the new Weymouth manager, I'd better make an effort to start visiting their forum more regularly too. I swilled a sip of Rémy around in my mouth, allowing the wonderful warm smooth texture to sit on my palate a while, and scrolled down through the first page of topics. Haha. Barely been here a week, not even so much as played a match yet, and already the natives are restless. Well, not most of them to be fair, just the usual "trolls" that plague any popular forum these days, posting 'controvertial' opinions purely to stir the waters. One topic titled: "Wiz Robinson -- A Scary Thought!" caught my attention, and proved to be an amusing read. There is a fine line where it comes to professional footballers engaging and interacting with our fanbases. It is expected of all of us, at whatever level, to have at least some form of contact with our Club's supporters, through the likes of interviews and various other media duties, programme notes, local Club events etc. But since the days of the social media explosion, and with many in the game now running their own twitter and instagram accounts, the potential for conflict between player and fan has increased exponentially. No longer are the terraces the only place for supporters to have their say and if necessary, vent their fury -- they can now line up across the various social media platforms and take aim from under the cloak of anonymity, 24-7. Many pro-footballers are not exactly the sharpest tools in the box, and already there have been instances of clubs having to publicly rebuke their players for getting involved in offensive verbal spats online, and pretty much making Julian Dicks of themselves. In my playing days, for most footballers at least, such opportunities for awkward public entanglements were not so common. Unless of course, you were like me. A lot of players tend to avoid the forums and message boards, but I've always enjoyed reading what the fans are saying about us and our team. Though I didn't always stop at reading from afar. I fondly remember the time in my early days at Bournemouth [it took me a while to really settle into the team], when I stunned the Cherries "Court Offside" Message Board, by suddenly appearing under my real name and picture as an avatar, in a thread entitled "Wiz Robinson - Should we just get rid!?" -- and replying with: "I know I have my faults, but at least I leave everything out there on the pitch for this club! Or do you hanker for a return to the days of Dave Town lumbering around up front, with Christer "Ohh, and he's missed it!" Warren? I really appreciate the constructive criticism lads, but how about a bit of support?" I've always loved every minute of my interaction with the fans ever since. They respect me because I make the time to connect with them on a personal level, they know my heart is in their club, and that I'll always be honest with them. I know it's not normally the done thing in professional football for the players to engage to that degree with the fanbase, but I always loved to have a close relationship with the fans, and whilst some of the more unsavoury characters sometimes took the opportunity to have a pop from behind the safety of the anonymous internet -- I know from the response I always had, that the vast majority of our supporters really appreciated that I took the time. For me, it was about wanting them to know that I wasn't just some mercenary who'd be gone in a season for an extra few grand a week, that I was one of them, and cared about their club as much as they did. And I know they enjoyed having that 'link' to the dressing room in amongst them on a regular basis. I tell you this, as the time has come for me to once again "gird my loins", and put on the "full armour of god" [as Matt Badcock might have me say] before diving into the fray once again, and joining in on the main Weymouth Message Board, Terras Talk. This time things could be a little different, as their forum on the terras.proboards.com site has a rich history of varying club officials interacting with the fans on there over the years for different reasons, so they are very used to it. In fact, that message board played a major part in saving the club, during the years of financial mismanagement, Administration, George Rolls, and the whole CVA nightmare. The fans came together, using that forum as a base, to thrash out a way forward, and some of those fans are even now on the current Weymouth Board and Owners List. Along with the likes of Nigel Biddlecombe and Pete Saxby, it was fans on this forum that stepped up to help save the club in its darkest hours, when extinction loomed imminent. This Club typically has a very open relationship with its fanbase, and I intend to play my part in that relationship. So, as I'm currently "up for debate" -- now seems like a good time to sign up and introduce myself! The Opening Post from "TerracottaWarrior" was: Quote TerracottaWarrior Wrote: What are we doing!? Wiz Robinson!? Can't think of anyone worse! Very scared! A couple of replies followed asking why this post couldn't have simply gone in the Official Stickied "Robinson Returns!" thread [there's always one!], but the OP itself had yet to generate the kind of response it was looking for. So I thought I'd lend a hand by putting in a personal appearance. Quote Wiz Robinson Wrote: Why so scared TerracottaWarrior? Would you like me to give John Hollins a call, and see what he's up to these days? Alternatively, you could have a modicum of patience, recognise that you now have an ambitious and very well qualified Manager who genuinely loves this club, and give me a chance to show what I can do?" It didn't take long to go down well with the locals! It was great to see so much enthusiastic support, and I was made to feel very welcome and at home. Up until the time of writing, TerracottaWarrior has yet to take up arms and respond. No doubt hiding under a bridge somewhere, waiting for sundown and the cover of darkness. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 18, 2017 Author Share Posted September 18, 2017 Chapter Ten: -- Flying Bricks and Spilt Claret: The Walls Come Tumbling Down. A few chapters back, I left you hanging on an idea I had whilst contemplating the state of disrepair of the Weymouth dressing rooms, and how accurately such a visual image mirrors and portrays the decline and deterioration of the Club itself. Well, it is time for change, and I mean that quite literally. How can I expect my players to rush into work feeling motivated and inspired, when they have to come and prepare for games in this dilapidated relic, surrounded by the depressing constant visual reminder of the level to which we have sunk? No, what we need is a major overhaul. Our goal is to become a fully professional Football League Club, for the first time in our history. And we have to start feeling like one. It's basic psychology and NLP. You come into this dressing room as it is in its current state -- and you feel like a sunday league park player. It is time to shake things up, and give our lads a real quality professional looking Football League standard Dressing Room, that makes them feel a few inches taller when they walk in, and proud to be playing for such a great club. The look on Steve's face when I first floated the notion of how desperately our tired old dressing rooms need a makeover was priceless. So was the look on his face when, before he so much as had the chance to respond and tell me how financially impossible that would be -- I immediately clarified: "consider it a small personal investment of mine into our Club, to help us improve. I'll pay for and arrange all the work myself, so you literally don't have to do anything other than say "Yes Wiz, that sounds great!" I smiled. Which fortunately, was exactly what he said. With just three weeks left before the players returned for pre-season, time was of the essence, and I wanted to make a start as soon as possible. But I was going to save a lot of time and effort by not having to waste it on searching around for the right company to undertake the work, and checking through their testimonials. My nephew Ash runs his own very successful and in demand Building Maintenance and Renovations company. He was the perfect man to call in for the job. Someone I trust to do a 100% professional job without cutting any corners, Ash has a long list of satisfied customers, due to his attention to detail and the high quality of his work. A reputation he is very proud of. And very soon, we would have a Professional looking Dressing Room to be very proud of too. I hadn't seen my nephew for a few months, both having such busy lives, so it was going to be good to catch up with the young rascal. I invited him down from his Midlands base where his empire is established, to Weymouth for the day, to listen to my ideas, size up our project, and give me his opinion on the best way forward. "F*ck me Veesh, what a dump! Looks like it's been painted with a lion's paw!" he exclaimed when first setting eyes on our project. "Our dressing rooms at Harborough were better than this!" Football runs in our family, and as well as running his own business, my nephew is also a pretty decent lower league player [most recently with Kettering Town], generally prefering a midfield or right back role. "That's exactly why you are here Ash" I laughed. "I basically want you to rip this place apart, and start from scratch" I smiled. One of the biggest things I dislike about our dressing room set up here other than their general sh*teness, is that the Home and Away changing areas are pretty much the same size, same look and same layout. This runs very much contrary to one of the important "dark arts" of management that I learned from my esteemed leader, Gordon Strachan. One of the first things he did when he arrived at Saints, was to have the St. Mary's dressing rooms radically altered, ensuring optimal space and luxury in the Home areas, and the most minimal, cramped, and ugly set up possible for the Away room, to make certain that our visitors would always have a most uncomfortable stay. I intended to follow his model, but with my own creative modifications. "First thing I want you to do Ash, is rip out the main central wall that divides the Home and Away dressing rooms. Ours is the wrong shape, and far too small, whereas currently, the Away room is far too generous. I want you to re-design things to give us extra home advantage" I smiled mischeviously. "That can be done" he nodded, "no problem, what exactly did you have in mind?" "A dungeon." I grinned. "Eh?" My nephew looked a touch perplexed. "What I want, is for the Home Dressing room to be defined by its high class spacious luxury -- and the Away room to resemble the closest thing you can get to a cramped mouldy old dungeon!" I laughed wickedly. "I'm talking literally," I emphasised. "I want ugly, oppressive dark green walls, with mouldy looking streaks of lighter green in places, over a kind of pebbledash effect wall plastering, and just one very small window high up near the ceiling covered by iron bars, that lets in just enough light to highlight how terrible the conditions look." I laughed. "Then there'll be one dimly lit ceiling light, also covered by a protective metal guard, and prison style metal benches fixed to the walls, to provide a nice cold and uncomfortable seating area. I want a long, narrow feel to the room, as if the walls are closing in on you, Star Wars style" I smiled. "You are a very wicked man, uncle!" he laughed, "but I like your style! Sure, I can do that, no worries." he beamed. "Excellent" I said, putting on my best evil mastermind voice. "When can you start?" "As it's for you uncle, I'll bring my top lads down with me, and we'll get started tomorrow. Should take around a week or two til completion, depending on what exactly you mean by luxury for the home room." I laid out my plans in great detail, and Ash drew up some superb designs. This is going to look class. Forget "Football League ready" facilities, our Home Dressing Room is going to be fit for a Premier League side by the time we've finished with it! Ash arrived bright and early the following morning, accompanied by four of his best guys, and work commenced pretty much straight away. The main wall was not a load-bearing one, so having prepped the room, the bricks started to fly, and our project was underway. My plans were starting to become reality. By the end of the first day, the old walls that restricted us for so long had come tumbling down, and the basic structure of our new design was already starting to take shape. It is easy to tell that Ash is a Robinson. He is driven, works his ass off, never slacks off, and is passionate about doing his work to the very best of his ability. What was wonderful to see, and actively watch, was the excellent teamwork skills and working rapport that he has established with the four-man team he brought down with him. These guys were good, they were fast, and clearly all enjoyed their work. And they really epitomised the word team. The way they worked together, each fulfilling their own role as an essential part of the functioning whole. It was exactly what I planned on doing with my Weymouth Squad. What I learnt so well from Gordon, in fashioning a team that together, are so much more than the sum of their parts. By the end of day two, every last bit of the structural work was already complete, with the new layout literally "set in stone", and now it was time to get started on the aesthetic aspects of the job. I stopped in to inspect their progress, and even in its current bare and undecorated state, you could see that it was all going to be absolutely perfect. Ash just had a few more design questions, and they were due to start on that at the crack of dawn tomorrow. "Wouldn't walk in the Home room for a bit uncle!" he advised. "Lads were unloading the mully and spilt a bit of claret. Just cleaning it up now." "No worries" I smiled. "Hope it wasn't too painful." "For the dungeon Veesh, when you say 'pebbledash' is this what you mean?" he asked, showing me some images in a presentation folder. "Exactly!" I nodded. "We call that Roughcasting" he explained, "and it can come in a number of different sub-styles. If I'm getting your intentions uncle, I can use a specific mix called sharpstone dash, which, shall we say, would add to your visitors' overall feeling of discomfort?" he suggested with an evil grin. "It won't be fatal, but it's the kind of surface you wouldn't want to try resting your head or relaxing your back against more than once," he cackled. "Sounds ideal Ash!" I grinned. "Let's do it!" Gordon would be so proud. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 24, 2017 Author Share Posted September 24, 2017 Chapter Elven: -- Dungeons and Dragan's! By the end of the first week of our renovations and refurbishments, everything was really nicely taking shape. On the football front, my First Team squad was pretty much assembled on paper, but we just lacked a little depth in the form of some promising young development players to act as back up in a couple of positions. I had put the feelers out to spread the word earlier in the week amongst a number of my contacts in the game, both at home and abroad, letting it be known what I was looking for, and although there were some options, I wasn't fully convinced, and had held off on making any final decisions until the end of the week. Which was a very good thing as it happens. Fate it seems, whilst so often appearing to conspire against us, every so often drops a gift into our laps, with timing so uncanny that it simply must've been "meant to be". And today was one of those days. Ash had just called to ask me to check on a few things in our new dressing rooms, and I was on my way down the main corridor to meet him. He exited the door to the new away room just as I got there, with a big grin on his face. "Hey, just the man, there you are!" He greeted me. "Please tell me what you think, your new dungeon awaits!" he exclaimed, throwing wide the heavy new [but very old looking by design] dark gunmetal grey iron door - emblazoned "AWAY" in thick black military style block stencil, and gesturing me with his arm outstretched to enter "at my own peril!" It looked absolutely awesome! Better than I could ever have expected. Everything about it screamed deep cover Special Ops Black-Site! Dark and narrow as some eerie old back-street alleyway at dusk, illuminated only by the last of the fading light, and a solitary broken flickering streetlamp. Barely enough space width-wise to squeeze two people passed each other down the central aisle between the long rows of metal benches on both sides, each jutting out from tall imposing monstrous spikey walls, of an almost evil looking deep murky blackish green. "This is fantastic work, Ash!!!" I commended the efforts of him and his team heartily. "You have taken my vision, and truly run with it! Amazing detail, everywhere!" I looked around, supremely impressed. "Just missing a couple of dragons Veesh, and it would be complete." My nephew joked. "Unfortunately though, I cannot help you out with those uncle," he laughed. Just at that moment, my mobile interrupted us, and I answered it on speaker phone. It was Manuel Junco, the new Director of Football at my Family's Club, Wisła Kraków, previously their Chief Scout of many years, and a close friend of my Dad. In his best 'basic' English, and with a stroke of the finest irony, he announced: "Greetings Veesh, Manuel here! I speak with your father before, and he say you in the market? I happen to have two young Dragan's you may be very interested in!" Everyone in the dungeon spontaneously burst into laughter, which resounded around in the echo-chamber liked environment of the new away 'holding cells'. I had to take the phone out of the room, and after walking down the corridor and out into the tranquil pitchside peace of the empty Bob Lucas Stadium, and managing to compose myself from laughing, I was able to finally explain the joke. "Ahhh, sorry to say these are not firebreathers, but Dragan Rosić is very promising young 19 years old Serbian Goalkeeper, and Ion Drăgan is big strong 19 years old Moldovan Striker with more to improve. He is real handful up front. Their contracts soon end, and agent contacts me to advise of their freedom. We watch them before, and they not ready yet for us, but you might want to look at them? They surely can do good job for you at lower level." "Excellent, thanks for the heads up Manuel! I'm not allowed to send my scouts out of the back garden, let alone Eastern Europe, so that's a much appreciated favour my friend." "You are very welcome Veesh, you like family to us, happy can help. I have good friendship with their clubs, if you like, I can arrange them to come over for trial with you?" "That would be wonderful, thank you Manuel. Send them over, I trust your opinion implicitly, so if they're up for it, we'll be more than happy to take a look!" My arrival back in the dungeon seemed to be the trigger for another round of laughter. "Dungeons and Drăgan's it is then!" I chuckled, before relating my conversation with Manuel to the group. Now, if I could just think of a decent title for this chapter, I'll be done for the day. Oh well, nevermind. I'm sure it'll come to me. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted September 25, 2017 Author Share Posted September 25, 2017 Editors Note: In the Forum Rules I note that it states: "We’re also a forum which has traditionally frowned on the use of pictures" along with "However, this rule does go to the basic reason of why we’re here: we’re a written-word forum". I therefore hope that what I have done in this post is acceptable to you, and if not, please accept my apologies, and if necessary remove the offending article. I would like to briefly explain, that to me, my diagram does not count as what would traditionally be thought of as an image capture or a picture. I made it myself just using shapes and text in my wordpad document, to illustrate a design that is important to the story. I thought I'd be able to replicate that in your forum's software, but other than crudely working it out in dots and dashes which would take flipping hours - I can't see how, and the only way I could do so was as an attatchment on the forum. It is not meant to be a "Picture" in that sense, but a drawing of lines and text. Which is why I am hoping that our kind and benevolent Moderators will allow it's use in this one-off case? Thanks, and sorry if I cause you extra work if you think it should be removed. ===================================================================================================================================================== Chapter Twelve: -- Christmas in Weymouth: It Comes Twice a Year. With the Away Quarantine already complete, and just daring its first detainees to enter [how delightful that it will be 'christened' by Dorchester!] -- the last few days have been fully dedicated to putting the finishing touches on our new Premier League quality Home Dressing Room. Today, all will be revealed in its full glory! I am extremely excited to see the final outcome, as I've been banned from the site for the last few days, and blind to all progress. Ash wanted his final creative masterpiece to be a surprise, and although I've obviously seen the early progress and commissioned the designs myself, I did allow him a little creative license in some areas. So I am like a little kid on Christmas Eve, eagerly awaiting the metaphorical emptying of Santa's heavy sack. And hoping it's not a white Christmas. But, I have been a good Wiz, and resisted the temptation to sneak downstairs and peek under the tree. While I'm sat here in the broom cupboard, patiently [not patiently] waiting for a call from Ash, I might as well make good use of the time, and take you through the squad I have now all but finished assembling for the season ahead. We're looking much more solid in the Goalkeeping department now. Mark Travers [from AFCB on a free] is looking like first choice on paper, with Nick Thomas [who signed just before my arrival] as back up, but if Dragan Rosić is as promising as Manuel indicates, he could well be challenging Mark for the Number One jersey, pushing Nick further down the pecking order. As well as the usual U23 and U18 sides, Weymouth also enter a Reserve Team in the Dorset League. So at least we can offer a genuinely competetive level of games to those outside of the starting squad. Defence has taken shape nicely, with Calvin Brooks being challenged by Dane James for the Right Wing Back slot, and another new ex-Cherry Callum Buckley hoping to unseat Tiago Sa at LWB. Both Callum and my former Exeter City protege Toby Down are equally comfortable playing on the Left, or at the Center of Defence, so will add great competition to our D(C) ranks too, along side Stéphane Zubar, Captain Ashley Wells and Jake McCarthy. Many of these lads are very versatile, and able to play in a number of positions across the back if need be. In the Midfield, our superb new Box-to-Box duo of Josh Carmichael and Josh Wakefield should really be expecting to walk straight into the First Team, but that would be very harsh on young Lewis Harvey. Lewis is a player I really like a lot. And when he broke into the side under Jason during the latter half of last season, he certainly took his chance, putting in some outstanding displays. For a Seventeen year old lad to grab games by the scruff of the neck the way he did and absolutely dominate the midfield, showed a lot of character. Something Lewis has in abundance. Towering in at 6'3", he has the attitude to make his physical presence count. An ultra determined, very hardworking lad, with excellent timing in the challenge. Throw in his bravery and Wiz-like levels of Aggression, I firmly believe this local Weymouth lad has a very bright future at this club, and under my guidance, can become a very important player. He is going to push Carmichael and Wakefield all the way, no Joshing! In the Number Ten Position, it's a free-for-all. Liam Farrugia, Harry Baker, Aaron Rodriguez, and Charlie Davis are all Natural's there, but can all also play naturally in other attacking positions aswell. So up front I have a lot of options. At this early stage, I'm veering toward starting Ben Thompson AM(L) - Harry Baker AM(C) - and Rodriguez AM(R), as my strongest line up. With 6'3" Harry McGrath [currently] leading the line. But at only 17 and still growing, Harry needs to be brought through carefully, and I'm hoping that our potential new Moldovan Drăgan can come in and breathe some fire into our attack, to help share the load. With the other Harry [Baker], A-Rod, and Thomson all equally good options in the Strikers role too [I just prefer them in other positions], I really am spoilt for choice in cover across the final third. Add Brandon Goodship to the right hand side too, and it could be a tough job on my hands to keep everyone happy. But I'd much rather have that problem, than be wondering where the goals are going to come from. If I can just find another relatively local lad, who is happy to play back up and act as cover when I need it for the Central Midfield roles, then my squad will be complete, and I'll be extremely happy with what I have. But that has been a lot harder to achieve than I'd hoped. Try bringing in any player of sufficient quality to do a job, and telling him he'll be your third or fourth choice, and I don't know about your own experiences with these delicate matters, but I usually find that the second word is "off". So I am still on the lookout for that one last piece of the puzzle. I was about to share some tactical ideas on shape with you -- but -- Father Christmas has just been!!! And he has gleefully emptied his sack with carefree abandon all around our new Dressing Room! So Ash tells me anyway, I'm about to run down in my pyjamas and dressing gown to see for myself. The time has come for the Grand Unveiling, It was certainly worth the wait. I'll show you my initial diagram I drew up for Ash to work with, to give you a visual idea of the general layout as it is very complicated to explain, then I'll fill in the details. Walking in through the Claret coloured front door off the main corridor, emblazoned "Terras Home" in bold gold plated metal, you find yourself in a small lobby area with three doors. The dressing room is straight ahead, the loos are off to the right, and an array of high performance power-showers spring from the sky-blue wall tiling in the room on the left. This leads through to the spacious Spa Bath zone, also generally sky blue themed, then into an open plan area housing a selection of small plunge pools and Ice Baths, which leads on through to the luxury hot Steam Rooms with their scented sensory delights, further around to the right. But it is through the central claret door, clearly stating in bold gold lettering -- "Inner Sanctum - Terras Players and Management Only!" -- where all the action happens! As you enter the inner chamber housing the Dressing Room itself, the nearest walls to the door at the tip of the inverted pentagon contain our locker and seating areas. Each player has their own space, with a beautifully crafted varnished oak locker, and a sky blue Recaro heated padded seat, a lot like the ones you see in the dugouts at most Premier League grounds these days. They stand out with a soft elegance against the smooth, deep claret coloured, masterfully plastered walls behind them. The main focal point of the room, the far wall, which you can't miss directly as you walk in, is also a rich claret in colour, with WEYMOUTH FOOTBALL CLUB standing out half an inch, from high on the wall in resplendent large gold block capitals, beautifully backlit beneath each letter with a soft sky blue glow cast against the wall. The attention to detail is phenomenal. This is underlined by a similarly lit gold bar, from which a handy wall screen can be extended for viewing pre-game video presentations our staff put together for match days. The two walls either side of this are decorated in a refreshing sky blue paintwork, which nicely breaks up the powerful claret elsewhere, [with a central claret door on each one into the Spa and Steam Room areas]. These walls are adorned with images of our Club's History, immaculately framed in dark mahogany with golden borders, highlighting proud moments from our past, and celebrating Club Legends. I found it impossible not to feel caught up in a tangible sense of nostalgia, as I examined the inspiring snapshots from times past, uplit by subtle, soft wall lighting beneath. Iconic moments such as Andy Harris heading home his dramatic 2nd half equalizer in the FA Cup 1st Round, away at former European Champions Nottingham Forest -- under lights at the famous City Ground. And Weymouth hero Jason Matthews' spectacular acrobatic late save to preserve the 1-1 draw and secure a money-spinning replay in front of our own fans. Wonderful still image captures of a packed to the rafters Wessex [Bob Lucas] Stadium for the return, live on Sky, with almost 7,000 said to have been crammed into the 6,600 capacity ground that day. We lost the replay 0-2, but those fans know and will always remember proudly, that we put up one hell of a fight and gave them a massive scare that day. These events and many more, are now immortalised on the walls of our new dressing room, inspiring our next generations to create some magic of their own. "I really can't quite find the words for what you have done here, Ash." I smiled at my nephew, gratefully. "Thank you so much for a truly magnificent job. I am quite literally in awe of your work!" "Thanks Uncle!" He smiled back. "I am so glad that you like it!" "How could I possibly not!?" I laughed. "It's pure art, Ash. Almost seems a shame to tarnish it with use. This dressing room belongs in a gallery somewhere!" I joked. "Ahh, don't worry about that Veesh," he smiled. "Everything in this room is made from the finest quality materials. This flooring for example is pure top grade polished granite, finished with a neutral pH breathable sealer. Extremely durable and very hardwearing, it'll withstand some heavy bootwork for many years, so long as we maintain it regularly." It is a beautiful shade of gleeming pale blue, which glitters little tiny sparks of light around the room, and features a stunning large Club Crest in the centre. It really pulls the room together, and is all capped off with a ceiling that is stylishly kitted out in a very pale pastel blue tiling, with neat rows of circular soft sky blue lights fitted into it, emitting the same inviting glow as the ones that highlight the gold "WEYMOUTH FC" lettering on the far wall. In the centre of the room and slightly to the back, stands our Tactics Table. This is an electronic display board, similar to what you see them using on Sky Sports, but our own custom made version, in Club colours and branding. It features a projector to put anything we may wish up on the main far wall screen for collective viewing. The whole project has far exceeded the initial expectations I had in my mind. It is a thing of sheer beauty. What Ash has created is nothing short of spectacular. Any team in the land [Claret and Blue ones at least] would be honoured to have such a wonderful dressing room set-up, and be proud to call this place Home. "I just cannot wait to see the look on our players faces when they walk in here next week, and see this for the first time!" I beamed. "I'm not giving anything away, so it is going to be a complete surprise for them all." I laughed. "Hopefully when our two Dragan's arrive from Eastern Europe in the week, if we put sacks over their heads at the airport and remove them only in the sanctity of the dressing room -- they'll just assume we're an FA Premier League Club, and sign on straight away." I joked. "I'm glad I was able to help you out Uncle" Ash smiled. "It was really good spending a couple of weeks down here with you too." "Indeed, it's been great having you around Ash. Shame you have to go and get back to work elsewhere." I smiled. "Well, hopefully very soon you'll be able to see a lot more of me Veesh" he smiled. "My company is very strong up in the Midlands, we've established a great reputation, and it's pretty much running itself now. The lads are all great, and can do just fine without me. Mum's arthritis is getting worse, and Dad is getting on now too, so is struggling more with her care." He looked concerned. "So I've been seriously thinking about setting up a new branch back in Southampton to be closer to home and help out where I can." "Yeah, I was sorry to here your Mum's not doing so well lately. But she seemed in good spirits when I visited last week. Will be good to have you around more though, and I'm sure your mum and dad will appreciate it too." I smiled. "So what are your plans football wise then Ash?" I asked. "I presume you won't be signing a new contract and trekking all the way back to Kettering every week?" "I really don't know yet" he shrugged. "I need somewhere that will let me train when I can, to help keep my fitness levels up, but isn't relying on me to always be available that often. But finding the right club is tough. I've had offers, but nothing that excites me. Ringwood Town is about the best so far, but come on, Wessex level? I know I've still got a lot more left to give than that Veesh." "I'm sure you have Ash, I saw you put in some great displays last season, at the same level as us, albeit in the bleak northern winter-lands" I smirked, playfully. "I'm only 28. I can still play at a decent level for a few more years, but with all the work I'm gonna have on to establish a new branch of my Company down here and build up a new client base, I just can't commit enough time to it. And no matter how good you are, who wants someone who's only gonna be available for about half their games over the course of the season!?" "Actually Ash, I do, as it happens! Santa has well and truly stuffed my stocking today!" I laughed. "Welcome to Weymouth mate. Consider yourself signed." I smiled. "You already know your way around the dressing room." "Haha, really!? That would be great Veesh! Thanks. Haha, the irony of building my own new dressing room!" he laughed. "Yes, seriously!" I stated convincingly. "You will be the missing piece to my puzzle Ash. I have three quality central midfielders, but I still need someone who's not expecting to be first choice, to cover for injuries and general squad rotation duties. So you could fit that role very nicely for us." "Fantastic, that's settled then," my nephew smiled. "We can work out the details later". My first couple of weeks as the new Weymouth boss went by in a flash. There was so much I needed to get done in such a short timescale, that I just plunged myself into it, focusing only upon my next task. It is when I allow my mind to start wandering onto everything else I have left to do, that I get distracted with a flurry of new ideas, which I then have to stop and note down before I forget them. It can get rather complicated this way and ultimately slows me down, so I always do my best to channel my concentration into what I am doing right now. The rest will take care of itself in good time. And indeed it has. But now that I am fully up to speed and have accomplished all I needed to get done in preparation for the long season ahead -- I am itching to finally get my players back from holiday, and crack on with our pre-season plans! Up until today -- I had plenty to keep me occupied. But now that my squad building is pretty much complete, and Ash and his crew have finished their amazing work too, after a hurricanesque couple of weeks, I am suddenly at a loose end, and still have another whole week to go before I can start working with my squad. Maybe I deserve a couple of days off myself, on holiday? I only actually signed a Part-Time Contract, as that was all the Club could afford to pay me for -- but I really don't need the money. I certainly haven't taken on this project for the pay! I've been effectively working full time hours anyway to get everything done in time for pre-season, and with the help of my staff, collegues, family and friends around me, we have worked so hard, that until I get my players back in, there really is nothing else left for me to do, until I get the call to collect my potential fire-breathers from the airport. And they'll be flying into Southampton International anyway! So yes, it is decided. A long weekend back Home in Southampton sounds like a very good idea. ========================================= Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted October 10, 2017 Author Share Posted October 10, 2017 Editor's Note: It has been two weeks since my last post. But that is not because I have not been writing. Far from it in fact. It has just taken a lot of time to get this chapter right. It was a wonderful feeling, when I finally just completed the last part. Firstly, thanks for leaving my diagram up. Much appreciated. Secondly, this chapter is going to be quite a long read, so I am splitting it into two 'Parts', to make it more manageable, if you prefer to do it in two sittings. I love playing with dialogue and conversations. It's something I think I still need to work on in my writing, and as they say, "practice makes perfect." Or, failing that, at least helps us to improve to some degree. I have used my long weekend trip home, to introduce and build some of the characters in the story, and rather than just dump a load of info in exposition, I've spent a lot of time [well, a lot of the little free time I have anyway] working on, stripping down, editing and polishing the interflow of conversations for this chapter. As I know some people dislike a lot of dialogue, fair warning that this episode is going to be quite dialogue intensive. Another reason for the split into two parts, to break it up a bit. But when done well, dialogue can be very character building, is a great vehicle to help move a story on, and can be a more natural-feeling way to introduce certain new information to the story. So, for all our sakes, let's hope that I've managed to do it 'well'. =================================================================================== Chapter Thirteen: Wiz Robinson. [Part One]: -- "Through the Keyhole..." I got back to Southampton late-ish that Friday evening, and planned for an early night. There is nothing quite like the feel of your own favourite bed to come home to. And that bed lives at my top floor Ocean Village apartment, situated upon the confluence of the River Itchen and Southampton Water, in the beautiful and much sought after Ocean Way area near the edge of the small peninsula. It is the pride of my property collection. An immaculately presented Three Bedroom High-Rise Luxury Penthouse, with open-plan mezzanine second levels, and an expansive balcony with roof terrace. I enjoy a little bit of luxury, but I don't go in for opulence. It is stylishly but very tastefully decorated. As far as penthouse apartments go, I'd say that it's 'modest'. Homely and cozy, rather than grand and lavish. More than anything, it is the extraordinary views that I paid for. With a full three-hundred and sixty degree panorama from the small roof terrace, I can sit and cast my gaze out across not only the entirety of my beloved home City of Southampton -- but also inspiring views of Ocean Village Marina, the River Itchen, Southampton Water [host to one of the busiest ports in the world] onto the Solent and Isle of Wight beyond, the gorgeous green expanse of the New Forest, and most crucially of all -- the St. Mary's Stadium! The small garden terrace sits atop a raised skylight section of the roof, accessed by climbing a short stairway up from the much larger balcony, jutting out towards the sea from the sliding glass living room doors, and wrapping around three quarters of the building, to offer extensive sea views and stunning cityscapes. It is a place that I never tire of coming home to. Although saying that, I was actually feeling pretty tired, so decided to leave making plans for my days home until the morning, and crash pretty soon. Quick nightcap on the balcony, and then done for the day. I poured a nice warming half- tumbler of fine single malt, and stepped out into the crisp night sky. As a Southampton lad born and raised, there is little prettier to me, than the sight of Southampton Docks at night, especially from this great height. The vast rows of orange lights twinkling off the water, cast black as a thick oil slick after sundown; which had almost arrived. The day's last few rays of sunlight fast fading behind the gathering cloud and impending horizon, leaving a pretty pastel pink haze in its wake, kind of smudged across the skyline, and reflecting softly off Southampton Water. Such a beautiful sight. But my buzzing phone soon distracted me from it. "Hi Wiz, how are you settling in?" "Hey, Adam! Great to hear from you. Very well thanks, it's been a mental few weeks, but just home for a long weekend off, and some relaxation before I get my squad back next week. How's things with you mate?" "Really good thanks Wiz. Well hey, especially as you're home for the weekend, but I was going to ask you anyway, if you'd have time for a feature interview for Solent any time soon? Like we done with you in your Bournemouth days? Not just football, but personal stuff, help your new fans get to know a bit more about Wiz the person?" "Sounds good Adam, you know I'll always make time for you sir, you've been a good friend to me over the years." "That's great, thanks Wiz, so where and when's good for you? Do you want to come into the studio? Or if you like I can come to you, and we can do it from the comfort of your own home? The interview that is, ha!" he chuckled. "Come over, and make an afternoon of it if you like? How's Sunday for you Adam? I know how you love a good Sunday Roast!" "Sounds wonderful. What time you want me there? "I'll set the table for 1pm, we'll have a good feast, then enjoy the afternoon on the balcony" I smiled. "Will see you then Wiz. Shall I bring a bottle of anything?" "You know my tastes Adam, so surprise me." "Will do. A few bottles of Diamond White then!" He chuckled. "F*ck off, Adam." I laughed. "Oh, and by the way, we have a new security system on my private elevator since you were here last." "I hope it was nothing I did?" He laughed. "Ha, no mate, you're ok. Just an extra layer of protection from unwanted disturbances. You just have to input a security code when you arrive." I was entertaining guests a few months back, and some bunch of nutters suddenly started banging on my front door, shouting "Oiii!! Open up! We know you're in there! We want our f*cking coke you c**t!!! NOW!!!" Obviously had the wrong penthouse, not to mention a severe sense of humour deficit. Telling them I only had Pepsi or lemonade didn't go over so well. But it was a touch embarrassing, having to assure my friends and family, that no, I really haven't become a drug dealer overnight, and there are absolutely no narcotics of any kind on the premises. So to save on such future unwanted incidents, now when you arrive, you have to punch in a security access code on the alpha-numerical keypad on the door, to even get in the lift in the first place." "Ok, so what's the code?" he asked. "Changes everyday. Sunday's passcode will be 'claustr0ph0bic'," I chuckled. "The O's are replaced by naughts." "Haha, classic. Out of curiosity, what's today's?" "Veryl0ngwayt0fall!" "Ok, thanks Wiz. Maybe I'll just take the stairs." As it happens, the stairs are gated off at the top too for an extra security measure. I have a key for emergency access, but I'm pretty sure he was only joking anyway. That would be a very f*cking long way to climb. And Adam doesn't do climbing. He is however very good at presenting radio shows, commentating on Saints matches, and truly excels at eating Pukka Pies. Actually, the walk would probably do him some good. Maybe I'll change the code again. I can jest, because I know Adam very well, and I know he'll take that with the playful intent behind it when he eventually reads this. Hi Adam! Adam is actually working very hard right now, to attone for his many years of general slothery, and has lost an amazing three stone in weight already, in the relatively short time since he committed to improving his health and lifestyle choices. As a friend, I am very proud of him for his efforts. So, anyway, that was Sunday afternoon accounted for, and a little less time than I'd allowed for to see everyone else I need to see. But that could all be worked out in the morning, what I needed most right then, was sleep. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * There is something indescribably wonderful, about waking up here. Makes me feel joyful just to be alive. And this morning was no different. With floor to ceiling windows everywhere, enveloped in light, and nothing but sky, sea, forest, and jaw-dropping views across my favourite city surrounding me, it is always a pleasure to open my eyes. I've never been happy to leave the bliss and comfort of my cozy warm bed, but my beautiful home high up in the sky -- makes this extrication somehow that much more bearable. Remind me again -- why am I half-moving to Weymouth!?! I must be f*cking crazy, that's why! I told myself. But right now, talking to myself is the least of my concerns. It's the replies that worry me. Seriously though, this is what I do. Make decisions based on my passion for something, and what "feels" right in the moment. Following my heart, even when my head is saying "Hmmm, Wiz, old buddy, old pal... are you absolutely certain that is such a good idea?" My answer usually goes something along the lines of -- "No. But I'm gonna do it anyway! And besides, it looks like it could be a lot of fun!" Sh*t. Necessarily, this must mean that I really am talking to myself afterall. And worse still, I'm actually engaging myself in the conversation. And getting even more philosophical about this freshly uncovered potential existential crisis -- what if you are not even real? Could I have just invented a bunch of "readers" in my mind to talk to, in order to hide the painful truth, that you are really all me too? Nothing more than silent imaginary witnesses in my head. What if I simply made you up to convince myself I was really talking to someone else? It gets complicated, doesn't it? If a figment of one's imagination begins to take on a sense of personal identity, and develops a consciousness and a voice of its own, who am I to deny your right to exist? But still, we've had this discussion before. I pleaded with them then, to lock me up in a mental institution for our own safety, but they put me somewhere even worse. I was given an honourary degree, and made Professor of Philosophy at P*rtsmouth University! It can be a very cruel world at times. But, certifiably insane or not, I am indeed the new Weymouth Manager now, and therefore, I need to be in Weymouth. The wisdom of that decision for my management career will become clearer over time. As for what my heart tells me? It feels like I'm in the right place. After my early morning philosophical musings whilst gazing out upon the ocean from the comfort of my bed, enjoying the rarity of a nice lay-in, another voice raised a very valid point. It was my stomach, telling me that it was someway past time to get up. No "Super" Jason Matthews to dish me up a delicious plate full of bacon and scrambled egg sandwiches here, and those eggs are not going to scramble themselves. As I learnt from Jason, there is a secret or three to making the perfect scrambled eggs and bacon breakfast. Organic 100% Extra Virgin Rapeseed Oil is your friend, and is to be sparingly drizzled into a hot frying pan, along with half of a small finely chopped raw red onion. Allow this mix to sizzle for a few moments until you begin to smell the full aroma of the onion heating through, then add a couple of dashes of Lea & Perrin's Worcestershire sauce. It is important to keep stirring the mix regularly on a low heat, so as to avoid browning and sticking to the pan. Next, add your succulent rashers of Premium Quality British Pig, preferably sliced from the lean back rather than the "streaky" variety taken from the fatty underbelly, and add to the pre-heated pan with the onion to sizzle away, turning regularly, to ensure your meat remains tender pink and juicy. If it gets at all brown and crispy, you've already f*cked it up, and it's better to feed the birds and start again from scratch. Allow the bacon to marinate in its own delicious juices for a while on a low heat to add to the flavour, remembering to turn regularly, and then remove and drain at that crucial point where your pig is sufficiently cooked, but remains pink and juicy. It will usually start squealing at this point anyway, which makes for a helpful alert. In a separate pan, add enough of your magic oil to lightly coat the base, allow to heat through, then add your well beaten Organic Free Range eggs, preferably freshly sourced locally from a farmer you know looks after his hens well, and gives them plenty of space to roam free. The healthier and happier the chicken, the better quality the eggs. Trust me on this, I speak from experience. You want top quality eggs, with a deep orangy-yellow glow to the yoke. If you crack them open to find an uninspiring dismal pale milky looking yellow, then stop buying from mass-producing supermarkets, and be sure you make the effort to acquire quality local produce. You'll thank me for it later, once you taste the difference on your breakfast plate! Getting the scrambled egg right, takes a bit of practise. It must be stirred constantly, and taken off the heat at the point where it has almost solidified, but a small amount of moisture remains. You want a light, soft and fluffy texture to your eggs, but retaining a little 'sloppiness' in the mix. This exact point in the scrambling process is that at which your eggs will taste best, and develop a lovely creamy texture to them. Take out as many pre-heated wholemeal multi-seeded baps as required to sate your appetite from the oven, and coat with Anchor butter, softened from being out of the fridge a while works best, as you want it to immediately melt nicely into your rolls. Dice your now cooked, soft and juicy pink bacon rashers, and stir into your scrambled eggs. Next, lay an appropriately sized piece of crisp iceberg lettuce on the inside of your upturned baps, and scoop in generous helpings of your bacon and eggs. Drizzle a spoonful of the red onions and bacon juice from the frying pan over the top, and add a sprinkle of Himalayan Pink Rock Salt [avoid sh*tty Table Salt - it's full of sand and glass!], and lashings of cracked black peppercorns. Add your bun tops, arm yourself with a few pieces of kitchen roll, and hungrily devour. Delicious! Cheers Jase!!! It was just before ten 'o' clock in the morning, with the container ships which so much of the industry of this city is based around, busy loading and unloading their cargos in the bustling 'Port of Southampton' Docks, accompanied by the clanking sounds of heavy machinery in action, and a handful of keen windsurfers were already out colourfully dotting the waters in the distance off Weston Shore when I took my breakfast out onto the balcony to munch, in the cool fresh morning sea air. A delicious and nutrious bite to eat, washed down with a nice hot cup of freshly brewed Twinings 'strong and malty' Assam tea, black with two sugars, and then I would start planning my itinerary for my long weekend home. Unless of course, someone else decides they're going to try planning it for me. I hand you over to the brief telephone exchange initiated by Amy, literally just as I was finishing my tea, and was about to call and see what her plans were. "Hi love, mum and dad have asked us over for Sunday Lunch. Can you pick me up about midday please?" "Hey, I was just about to call you. Unfortunately not Amy. I have Adam coming over for Sunday Lunch at mine this weekend, and the afternoon set aside for an interview for Radio Solent. Sorry sweetie, but I can see you any other time you like. All of today and tonight are yours, and Monday too if you want. Need to show my face at mum and dad's at some point too, and pop in to see Darren for a bit, but I can fit all that in around whatever else you're doing." "Ohh, V. I've barely seen you for over a week, and you make your plans for the weekend without even talking to me first?" "Wasn't my intention Amy. Adam called as soon as I got in last night, and asked if I was free over the weekend. You normally want me to yourself on Saturday nights, so I told him Sunday. So I was thinking of you first. But I'm not psychic." "That's why you have a phone. To call and ask!" "So, let me get this right. You think I should hang up a call from my friend about work, phone to ask if it's ok with you first, and then call him back before making any plans?" "Yes. We're in a relationship. It's called being considerate V!" "Sounds more like being in a prison then, Amy. For me, a relationship is meant to compliment and enhance our lives. Not take over and control them. Something you strongly agreed with me on when we first met, as I recall. So, anyway -- this morning? Afternoon? Evening? Anytime at all Monday? Let me know, and I'll make my other plans around what you want to do." "Will call you later." Fine, you do that, stroppy little miss. I have to laugh. This is the girl who, when we first met, was so very insistent that her "independence is so important to me" and "relationships should never get in the way of following your dreams or hold you back!" And here she is insisting that I should first ask her permission before making plans closely related to following my dreams, of becoming a top Football Manager. Oh, the ironing. I made myself a fresh cup of tea, and took a wander up onto my garden terrace, to enjoy these sprawling views from above, and sat with a lovely wind swirling around me, looking out over the hallowed turf of St. Mary's for a while. I like to sit up here to think. It gives me perspective. After a while, I texted her, "I must visit my parents, and really need to see Darren too this weekend, so I need to start making my plans. Again, I'm asking you first what time of mine you want. So please let me know when you can. If I haven't heard from you within the next 2 hours, I'll start making my own plans first. Kisses. xxx" "And there was me thinking you already did make your own plans first." came the spiky reply. "Sigh. Look, I am sorry I can't make dinner with your parents. I'd love to have gone with you, and I'm happy to do it any other Sunday, but not this one. This is important media exposure for my managerial career, and Adam is doing me a big favour in offering me such a large slice of airtime for my new Club's supporters to get to know me. #Followingmydreams xxx" As I sat enjoying the wind on my face, up in the cool morning air, a few of my lovely friendly neighbourhood crows dropped in out of a hazy blue sky to say hello, landing on the grass by my feet, puffing their gorgeous black feathers out, whilst chattering away softly to eachother in Crowish; as they patiently waited for their daily tasty treats of bacon rinds, the scrappy bits I still sometimes f*ck up, and some monkey nuts to 'take away'. The text message alert startled them as they were busy tucking in, and they eyed the strange metallic object in my hand curiously. "Ok. Sorry V. I won't hold you back. Was just really looking forward to you meeting them, now I have to tell them you have something more important to do. xxx" "Amy, I am sure they will understand. I am a professional football manager. It is my job. Doing media work is a very important and expected part of that job. And it was already arranged before I received their invitation." "K, take me to Banana Wharf tonight then, to 'make it up' to me. " All this drama over doing a f*cking radio interview with Adam on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Hilarious really. "Sure. Pick you up at...?" "8pm please. xxx" "Done." Hallef*ckinglujah! Life can now flow once again. I got straight onto booking a table, then allocating the rest of my time and making arrangements, stuffed a quick salad down me for lunch, and then I was off to visit my brother Darren and his wife Amanda, Ash's parents. Technically, he's actually my 'half' brother, born to my mother when she was just eighteen, from her first and very short-lived attempt at marriage, before she met my father. He pretty much helped raise Darren as his own once he'd arrived on the scene from Poland and woed my mum-to-be with his "charm and personality." Ten years my senior, he has been a part of my family since long before I was born, and has been an amazing brother to look up to. The word 'half' does not exist in my lexicon where it comes to our brotherhood. Being that much older than me, we managed to avoid the usual sibling squabbles growing up. Darren has always been there looking out for me, and he couldn't have been a better brother if he'd tried. And knowing him, I am sure that he did. Even though he lacks the footballing blood of my father, just growing up under his influence seemed to inject sufficient passion for the game into him, and whilst he only had a non-descript local level playing career, Darren developed a great understanding for the tactical side of the game, and went on to become an excellent coach, having most recently enjoyed a role as First Team Coach at Birmingham City, along with spells at Coventry, Hull, Nottingham Forest, Everton, and Derby, to name a few of the lofty clubs he has served with. As you can see, he's moved around a lot over the years, and there's a lot of Midlands clubs in there, which is why Ash has established his home improvement empire up in that neck of the woods. But after Darren left his role with Birmingham City last year, they decided it was time to move back home, to be closer to family again, as we're all getting older. And it has been wonderful having my brother back so close to me of late. I pulled up at their quaint and cozy little cottage in Marchwood, on the edge of the New Forest, not far from SFC's iconic and by now world famous Staplewood Campus. "Still driving that sh*tty old Beemer?" My brother greeted me at the door. Clearly, my smart metallic black sporty little ride paled into insignificance, when parked alongside his top-of-the-range ten year old Vauxhall Astra. "I know you want it Darren." I laughed. "The jealousy drips from your lips." I smiled. "Still got a bit more fun to get out of her yet, before I'm ready to give you a hand-me-down and upgrade my drive." "Aaa, I might give you a hundred quid for it Veesh, if you're lucky. Not worth much more than that." "Ha! You wish!" I grinned. He gave me a big brotherly bear hug, and we went inside. "Mmmm. Sure smells good in here!" I said, catching the whiff of some good old fashioned home-made bakery going on in the house. "Chocky-chip cakes!" Manda called out from the kitchen. "Should be done in about ten minutes V! You're early, as usual!" "Much better than being late, as I always say" I smiled, joining my sis-in-law in the kitchen, and giving her a careful hug. "It's great to see you're up and around, and even cooking!" I smiled. "Ash said you weren't doing so well lately". "Good days and bad days" she smiled. "He worries too much V. Still getting around mostly ok on my own. My joints just flare up a bit every now and then." As a very health-conscious professional sporting type, I certainly don't smoke as a habit, but it has always been a favourite weekend pastime of Darren's to enjoy a nice fat Cuban cigar or two, so I usually make a point of popping in to see Clive, the owner of White's specialist traditional tobacconist on route, to pick up something he'll like. W White's is a marvellous old place that was established way back in 1910, and retains all of its old charm and character. It is like stepping back in time, to a bygone era. It is a rare thing indeed to find the quality of service and knowledge of his craft that Clive provides in this day and age. So visiting my brother also usually offers the opportunity to indulge in a naughty puff on an expensive hand-rolled Habana or two. After sitting down for some tea and Manda's delicious home-made hot chocolate cakes, Darren and I went out into the warmth of the late afternoon summer sun, to sit in his lovely secluded and tranquil garden for a while, talking football and life over a beer and a nice strong full-bodied 'Montecristo Especial No.2', which came highly recommended by Clive. The Montecristo brand is usually known for its more medium-bodied and accessible range, but the "Especial No.2's" are something of the connoisseur's selection. Two thick clouds of smoke were soon expanding exponentially to pollute the local skyline, with the wonderful fragrant aromas of asian spices, precious woods and a master-blend of the finest strong Cuban tabaccos wafting on the warm breeze. "Ahh, English Summertime..." he mused, puffing away contentedly in his well tended garden, surrounded as we were by the lush greenery of a variety of trees, both evergreen and deciduous, with many lovely colourfully blooming bushes and plants scattered around us. "So glad we decided to come back down south," he exhaled slowly. "I'd be inhaling a lovely blend of smog right now back in Brum." He laughed. "Great to have you home Brother." I smiled warmly. "And heeey, it's great what you have done for Ash too!" He beamed. "Helping him out with a new club down here was the final push he needed to come home and join us. So thanks for that. I really appreciate it little bro." "No worries." I smiled. "Been really good having him around the place, and you should see the unbelievable job he's done with our new dressing rooms Darren! Work of art, seriously." "He showed me some pics, and yeah, looks fantastic. You must be delighted with that. Be good to come down and have a look in person. Have to fix up a visit once your season starts and take in a game at yours." "Yeah, that'll be great, you know you're always most welcome." "How's life treating you at the moment anyway Veesh? All good?" he asked, taking another toke on his glowing cigar. "And how's Amy?" "All good brother, thank you." I smiled. "Haha. Well, not so sure on the last part, but life and football is all going fine." I grinned. "Ah, what's she done now?" He chuckled. "Long story Daz." I laughed. "Basically, getting in a hissy because I arranged an interview with Adam on Sunday afternoon, and had the tremendous audacity to not consult her about it before making plans for the weekend." I rolled my eyes. "What!?! You didn't!?! You absolute b*stard, Veesh!!!" He laughed. "How could you!?" "At least you've got a sense of humour," I smiled, drawing on my Montecristo, and sending another silvery plume into the atmosphere. "It's hilarious, I know, but getting a bit tired of it now. Not the first time recently she's become irrationally upset over some unfortunate calendar clash, or something of absolutely no significant import whatsoever, and made a big drama out of nothing at all." I chuckled. "Trying to tighten your thumbscrews again is she bro?" he laughed. "Something like that. And it's not what I signed up for." I sighed. "She was all little miss 'don't crowd my independence' when I first started seeing her, which was right up my street. Now? Not so much." I chuckled. "Unfortunately, a lot of women seem to become like that once they realise they're onto a good thing" Darren offered his opinion. "Natural instinct, I suppose. To want to tie you down, and secure some kind of committment to preserving their catch." "I guess." I mused, quietly toking on my fast diminishing cigar. "But it was never anything like that with Freya. Loving her was always so easy." "I know." He smiled kindly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Another beer?" "Naah. Thanks, but I'm driving. A nice strong black tea would be good though." I smiled. "Will get Amanda to fix us some. I make sh*te tea." He grinned. I laughed. "I know." "You staying for dinner bro?" he asked, on his way back to the patio door. "Would love to, but have to take sulky out for dinner tonight, to 'make it up to her'" I chuckled. "Ok. Won't be long." He disappeared inside. I sat enjoying the sun on my face, listening to the sounds of the birds talking as they flitted around in the trees, the soft rustle of the wind through their leaves, and the gentle trickling of the stream running past the end of their pretty garden. "So, you reckon it won't last much longer with you two then?" my brother asked, returning to the great outdoors, and handing me a steaming hot fresh brew. I shrugged. "I do like her. She's a nice girl. I just haven't got the time or inclination for needless dramas. Will just see how it goes for a while." I took a sip from my hot mug. "As long as I'm 'seeing' someone, things all appear 'normal' in my world, no-one asks any difficult questions, and everyone is happy." I smiled. "Except you?" "Ha, no. I am happy Darren. Really. I love my life. I'll just never be complete again, is all." "'Never' doesn't allow a lot of room for movement?" he said. I smiled, watching the whisps of steam, twirling skywards from my cup. "What you thinking?" he asked. "About time we spark up our last cigars." I smiled, handing one over. "I'll have to be off soon." It was always great to catch up with my brother, but I needed to make tracks. I had a few other errands to run, before getting ready to collect Amy for what promised to be a potentially "fun" night. I was really looking forward to it. In the manner that one looks forward to having teeth extracted. But at least the dentist gives you anaesthetic to numb the pain. Could probably use a couple of shots of novocaine in my ears for tonight! 7 'o' clock rolled around [way too quickly], and I suited myself up in a smart tailored navy Dior single-breasted, sky blue tie and pocket square, ran a comb through my black and silver hair, and finished the look with a nicely polished pair of dark tan Chetwynd Leather Oxford Brogues from Church's. At least she can't say I didn't make an effort. I left in plenty of time, as the traffic is notoriously bad through Millbrook up to the Redbridge roundabout and flyover. But given that my target was Lordswood on the north-western outskirts of the city, it was still the best way to go. I pulled up outside Amy's place with ten minutes to spare before eight pm, and sent her a text message to let her know I'd arrived. That's something I can say for Amy. She always looks good. She doesn't even need to try. She does anyway, but Amy is naturally beautiful. She looks great in anything, and equally, without. Tonight she approached my shiny black Z4 looking particularly radiant, in a thigh-length white summer dress and matching shoes; her dark chestnut hair falling down over her shoulders. I did the gentlemanly thing, and stepped out to open her door for her. "Gorgeous, as always" I smiled, which was the correct greeting, and resulted with a kiss. "You scrubbed up alright yourself," she winked, getting into the car. Billing itself "The premier choice for waterfront al fresco dining" Banana Wharf is a very popular place to "meet, drink & eat ... by the water." Offering a menu that "blends oriental and tropical dishes with great seafood and classic favourites," it is Amy's destination of choice for a taste of the exotic. So, there we went. It is indeed a great place to eat, and Craig [the General Manager] is a top bloke. Always goes out of his way and beyond the call of duty, to make sure his "guests" as he calls them, have a wonderful time. Although I do generally prefer somewhere quieter and a bit more intimate, with a less "hectic" buzz around it myself. But it is her time, so I'm usually more than happy to let her choose. I was pleasantly surprised as it happens. Amy made no mention of the disagreement over my Sunday arrangements at all, so I didn't bring it up myself either. Why spoil a good thing? Just a nice relaxing evening with great food, good company, a few drinks, and no dramas. Like it used to be. It wasn't a late one, as we both had to be up for other things. Certainly for me at least, this weekend is much more about what happens tomorrow. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wisła Posted October 10, 2017 Author Share Posted October 10, 2017 Chapter Thirteen: Wiz Robinson. [Part Two]:- Adam Blackmore Gets "Up Close and Personal!" Lionel Ritchie declared Sunday mornings to be "easy" -- but what the f*ck does he know anyway? I do not always find this to be the case. "I could quite happily wake up here with you every morning" Amy sighed contentedly; the warming rays of the sun pouring in the floor to ceiling windows, and bathing the white bed sheets in light, as she pulled them up snugly around her neck. Saying anything at all in relation to that potentially loaded 'off the cuff' comment, would have most likely resulted in a potentially negative consequence from my perspective. So I said nothing. A big stretch, and a long wide yawn conveniently filled the silence for me. I lent over and kissed her on the lips, before rolling back, and jumping out of bed. "Right. Breakfast!" I exclaimed. "I'm starving!" I pulled on my white dressing gown. "You stay there and snooze sweetie, and I'll fix us up an early morning feast!" I declared, and disappeared swiftly off to the temporary refuge of the kitchen. After a Jason Matthews Special, which was met with much approval, and a revitalising hot shower, I dropped Amy home, and came back a 'long way' around, as I needed to go via Totton, to stop in and see Ian and Louise at Sunnyfields Farm. They are a lovely couple who have been specialising in selling their own locally grown organic produce for over twenty-five years now, and have established an excellent reputation for quality and service. I always go out of my way to get as much of my food fresh and straight from the source as possible, and Ian and Louise make that task very easy. They even offer a home delivery service, but I prefer the 'more organic' feeling of actually going to the farm to get it myelf. And besides, I enjoy their company and a quick chat. I picked up some fresh bacon back and large free range eggs for the week ahead, a selection of vegetables, and some fine cuts of lamb and beef for lunch. All top quality local organic produce, naturally; and returned as quickly as possible to begin my preparations for Adam's impending afternoon visit. I really enjoy cooking, and like to take my time over it. Rushing through the motions just to get it on the plate as quickly as possible sadly seems to have become the norm in food 'preparation' in these 'fast food' days of our lives -- but I am more of a traditionalist where it comes to enjoying good food. The "best meal," as my wonderful Nan always used to say, is one "that has been prepared carefully, and with lots of love." For me, it is about where your focus is, while busy preparing the meal. Is your head off somewhere else as you're merely going through the robotic motions of rapidly chopping those carrots? Are you pondering your problems whilst peeling potatoes? Or are you investing your energy and concentration on the task at hand? That of intentionally creating the best meal that you can. My dear old nan also used to say, when asked what was in something she'd prepared: whatever the actual ingredients were, followed by "and I poured in my heart and soul, especially for you!" I think I'll just leave the last word on that with her. She knew what she was talking about. After a couple of hours slaving away in the kitchen, everything was in motion, and the delicious aromas of fresh home-cooked food were already begining to permeate throughout the apartment. Just the way I like it. The weekend was remaining fine and clear, so I spent a while out up on the terrace, and soon it was time for Adam to arrive. He's usually very punctual, and didn't disappoint. My mobile rang shortly before 1pm. "Hey Wiz, I'm here, but can't get the code thing on your lift to work? I'm definitely typing 'claustr0ph0bic' - and 'Veryl0ngwayt0fall!' isn't working either." "I thought you wanted to take the stairs!?" I laughed. "Thought better of it." He chuckled. "What shall I do?" "Had Amy over last night, I must've forgot to change the code on our way out," I figured. "Try -- 'HangingFr0mAThread'." After a few moments delay, and the soft bleeping of electronic keys... "Ahh, magic! What are you like Wiz!? Anyway, I'm in." He laughed. "Let's just hope that I make it up there alive!" "Good luck Adam! I'm praying for you!" I quipped. "See you on the other side buddy." Fortunately, despite my penchant for elevator related gallows humour, Adam survived his perilous ascent intact and in one piece. "Greetings! Welcome, my friend!" I shook him warmly by the hand. "You made it! I was fearing the worst there for a moment!" I teased. "Yes, very amusing Wiz." He chuckled. "Great to see you." "Well, come on through, lunch shall very soon be swerved." I said. "It's like being served, but with a little more flair and creativity. So, how many plates do you want Adam?" I laughed. He chuckled. "Just the one thanks, will be fine. Smells wonderful!" "Slow-Roasted Cow's Arse in a Rich Ale Gravy, Braised Breast of poor Young Sheep with Mint Sauce, and an Assortment of Roasted Root Vegetables, brutally ripped from their warm earthy homes for your culinary pleasure!" I reeled off the Menu. "All straight from Summerfields Farm this morning." I smiled. "Fresh as you can get. The cow wouldn't stop mooing 'til it had been in the oven for at least an hour." Adam wasn't driving, so I cracked open a nice Claret to accompany our meal, and we tucked into our Sunday afternoon feast, amidst the clinking of cuttlery on china plates. Our Main Course was followed by a supremely delicious hot Lemon Meringue Pie, which I picked up from the "QUALITY FINISH PATISSERIE" literally just around the corner from Ocean Village in Andersons Rd, who are renowned for their quality fresh homemade deserts. It was a very pleasant munch indeed. I made a fresh pot of tea for us, and we retired out onto the expansive balcony for an afternoon in the warm sunshine. Adam selected a vantage point from the left side of the main seating area, with amazing sea views out across to the Isle of Wight off to the right, and overlooking Southampton City Centre and St. Mary's to the left, at the very heart of the city. We had a brief chat about some of the topics likely to be up for discussion, Adam set up his laptop and recording equipment, and then, we were ready to begin. Interview with Adam Blackmore: "A very good afternoon to all of our listeners on 96.1FM, as we take you out of the studio for another in our popular One on One series. So you're with me, Adam Blackmore, on BBC Radio Solent -- and we're here with the new Weymouth Manager and all-round South-Coast legend Wiz Robinson, enjoying the stunning views across arguably Southampton's most attractive Marina and way beyond, from the stylish balcony at his plush Ocean Village Penthouse." Adam began. "We've done these kind of interviews with Wiz in his playing days, and I asked him just a few days ago actually, how he would feel about doing another feature for us -- and he has very graciously invited us over for Sunday lunch, and an afternoon in his company. It is going to be a very loose format. We're just going to sit here enjoying this lovely warm south coast summer sunshine, under beautiful azure skies, chatting life and football, whilst recording it all for editing later. It'll then go up on our audioboom site, with a full transcript on our website to follow." he made his introductions. Adam: Good afternoon Wiz, and thank you for having us. Wiz: Welcome, Adam. It is always good to have your company my friend. Adam: Yes, it is probably important I should clarify for our listeners, that it's not like you've just invited some random journalist into your lovely home here. We've known one another for a long time Wiz, and I would imagine that helps you to feel more comfortable in letting us into your personal life in this way? Wiz: Oh, absolutely Adam. That goes without saying. You have always been a great support to me, throughout my career, from the moment I first started appearing on the fringes of the Southampton First Team, way back in the day. You are a very rare thing in the world of Sports Journalism and Broadcasting my friend. A man of integrity, principles, and just an all-round decent bloke. And you also know me well enough, to know where to draw the line on the personal questions. Adam: Thank you Wiz, and yes, of course. Now -- over the last two days, since we arranged this afternoon with you, we've been asking our listeners to send in their own questions for you, and we shall gradually filter some of the best ones into the course of our discussion. But there was one in particular I thought would be a good one to start off with, given our current idylic surroundings -- and that was: "You were born in Southampton Wiz, but to a Polish football legend. You've stayed on the South Coast your whole career, so you must really like it here? So do you consider yourself English, Polish, or what?" Wiz: Hmmm. I find it difficult to explain really. I was born here, so technically I'm English. But having an English mother and Polish father -- really I'm half English, half Polish, though I don't really feel like either. There are two whole different parts of my identity and family history, that all go into making me, well, me. What I can say, is that I love Southampton, the place of my [and my mother's] birth, and I love Kraków, the beautiful city of my father's birth and a long line of that branch of my family. I love these places as passionately as many would love their countries, but particularly Southampton. Just look around us now, at this scenery, on this gorgeous afternoon. It is an exceptionally beautiful part of the world, and I feel very blessed to have been given the opportunity to grow up here, and call this place my home. And yes -- that extends to many of the beautiful towns and cities nearby, all along this stunning jewel of english coastline, which I've also been privileged to call home over the years. To try to offer the best answer to the question I can though, you could say that I feel my sense of 'patriotism' to my City, and consider the beautiful coastal and forested areas around it, to be my 'country'. It's just a lot smaller, and where yours has overseas territories all around the world -- my country just has the one, over in Poland. And yes, I love my 'country' just as much as you love yours. Adam: But not P*rtsmouth. Wiz: Noooooo, nooooo, no no no. Haha. Definitely not there. And that is the language of Mordor, Adam, and one that I will not have uttered here. There's a fresh bar of soap in the bathroom. Please wash your mouth out. Adam: Hahaha. My apologies. I couldn't resist. [chuckling] Wiz: Haha. It is ok Adam. Just don't do it again. It's a long way down off this balcony. Adam: What was it like for you, growing up here Wiz? You mention feeling that you have two identies. How did you integrate the two, and how did that effect the way you see your place in the world around you? Wiz: Again, that is difficult to explain. I was a kid, just like anyone else, with my own upbringing, so I guess it was just normal. It was my normal, anyway, that is just what I knew. My parents did a brilliant job of raising me to understand both sides of my family history and their unique cultures, as equal aspects of who I am. None is better or inferior to the other in importance. I saw it as a positive thing, certainly. Most of my friends had one place to call home, but I had two. I was lucky. I grew up speaking two languages fluently, and a decent grasp of a couple of others too. And this can be very handy when you need to vent a few choice words, but would rather those around you not understood what you have to say. Adam: I can imagine. [chuckling] Wiz: So yeah, it is not like these are two opposing 'fractured' sides of me, battling for inner supremacy or anything. Haha. Far from it. Much more like two different coloured threads, woven together into the fabric that is the unique tapestry of my life. Adam: Quite beautifully explained. That is a visual image I'm sure most of our listeners can understand. Wiz: As a young child, I wanted to be a poet when I grew up, actually Adam. [laughs] But my Dad kept on insisting that I was a footballer. Even when I was only eight. "Football is the family business son" he would state matter-of-factly. "You are going to be a great player!" Adam: I think I'm right in saying, but it was not only your father who played his whole career for Wisła Kraków, but your grandfather and great grandfather too? Wiz: Yeah, that's right Adam. 'S'why dad always refers to it as the "family business". Adam: And yet, in moving so far away, to start a new life in England at Southampton, is it fair to say you were denied your own chance to continue in the proud Kraków football traditions of your family? Wiz: I don't really see it that way. Sure, if we'd stayed in Poland, I most likely would have followed in their footsteps, but over here it is much harder to reach the top flight as a player, and remain there. I would have been a bigger 'name' over there for sure, and probably would have played for Poland too, but I have no regrets. I've loved every minute of my time here on the south coast. Adam: We've loved having you Wiz. The Polish have a reputation for being hard workers, and you certainly didn''t disappoint. You've given a lot to this area through your career, and always had time for everyone, especially the fans. Wiz: Thanks Adam. Working hard is very important to me. Again, something I'm grateful to Gordon for instilling into me. Adam: Which actually leads on quite nicely, to a text from "BridportTerra" -- to ask you: "What is most important to you in life?" And that is a good question, Wiz? Wiz: Family. Adam: Well, that was very unequivocal. Wiz: Absolutely. Adam: That's what we like Wiz. A good decisive answer. Wiz: I used to be indecisive -- but now I'm not so sure. Adam: [chuckling] Ok then. How about "pet hates" Wiz? Anything that really bugs you? Wiz: What I hate the most? Other than lazy uncommitted footballers, you mean? Adam: [laughs] Other than those. Wiz: Disrespect. I hate disrespect. In all its manifestations and forms. Adam: So it follows, that respect - is another thing that is very important to you? Wiz: Absolutely. For me, there are three levels of respect. The first, is a very basic and fundemental level, that I believe all human beings everywhere are deserving of, until they prove otherwise through their behaviour. A common courtesy, if you will. To treat everyone we encounter in life with decency, as we'd expect to be treated ourselves. Then, there is a second level. One which is earned over time, and built upon gradually. Which becomes a strong, bonded, mutual respect, based upon what we have learnt of eachother's character. Such as the relationship between us, Adam, for example. We both respect eachother and the work we do in our professional capacities, but that goes further, to being rooted in a deeper aspect of admiration for the actual person. Adam: "For he's a jolly good fellow! ..." [chuckling] Wiz: Pretty much, yes. Adam: And the third level? Wiz: Reverence. That point at which your respect for a person goes beyond the limits of what would seem possible. Like the way I feel about Gordon Strachan, for example. There was a time, many years ago, when I 'only' respected Gordon. For most of my life, I have revered him. Adam: But that wasn't always the case. [laughing] And I'm also disappointed to hear that you don't revere me yet Wiz! [chuckles] Wiz: [laughing] You're really close Adam. Don't give up yet my friend! But, haha, no, you're quite right. Gordon takes a bit of getting used to, especially as the follow on act from the Master of Meekness -- Stuart Gray! [laughs] But just as we've been talking about -- it was a respect that was earned over time, through hard work, passed through the realms of devotion, and reached its destination, in Reverence. It is the kind of level of respect at which, like with Matt Le Tiss -- a person takes on the aura of an almost god-like figure for you, walking among us lesser mortals, and gracing us with their sheer presence. My time working with the Mighty WGS certainly puts him on that kind of pedastal for me. Adam: Which is a good point to introduce another listener's question for you now Wiz. Rich in Woolston tweeted us to ask you "What are your top three moments from your career?" And I don't want to put words in your mouth, but knowing you quite well, I'd imagine your Southampton debut -- under Gordon Strachan -- would be right up there for you? Wiz: Haha, only three!? Thanks Rich, that's tough! I'll have to think for a moment, but yes Adam, my Saints debut was ten minutes of my life that I'll certainly never forget! For so many reasons. Adam: Why don't you talk us through it Wiz, while two more special moments are still coming to you? Wiz: Well, I'd warmed up two or three times on the touchline in the second half, and the game was fast elapsing. We were 2-1 down in a crucial relegation six-pointer at St. Mary's against Everton, another club Saints fans don't particularly like, and the crowd was getting very frustrated. We had all the possession, but they were sat very deep, and we just didn't look like breaking them down. Gordon Strachan called me over with ten minutes left to go, and I still laugh now every time I think about it. He said "Wiz! Now I want you to forget about almost everything I've ever told you! Yes, still be the aggressive monster I've tried to coach into you -- but right now, we haven't won in six games lad, and we just need a goal! So your flicky boll*cks is back on the menu - just this once! If you can find a way to unlock these stubborn b*stards, then just do it! Get out there and be yourself, express yourself, and save this game for me son!" Adam: And it didn't take you long to make an impact. Wiz: Haha, for sure! [laughs] As I was coming on to the pitch, Everton had just intercepted the ball, and were launching a counter-attack, which looked quite grim for us, with the number of players we had forward seeking an equalizer. I sprinted flat out straight from the touchline toward the breaking opponent. He knocked it past Chris Marsden, and just as he was about to collect the ball on the other side -- he met with the Wiz-Express! Adam: You clattered into him pretty hard! [laughing] Wiz: Indeed. [laughs] He didn't know what had hit him, and was left in a crumpled heap on the grass! There was a huge roar from the home crowd, as I emerged with the ball at my feet. It gave me a massive adrenalin surge! I looked up at the ref, and he was waving play on... Adam: It was a fair challenge! Ball, man, everything, cleaned right out. Wiz: Haha, yeah. I wasted no time. They were out of their tight compact shape for the break, and I just went on a weaving run down the centre, right at the heart of their defence. Took the first cluster of players nearest to me out of the game straight away with my sheer pace, breezing right by them, cut back on my left and beat a couple more thirty yards out with my trickery, or "flicky boll*cks" if you like... [laughs] -- another defender comes across forcing me to the right away from goal, dropped him a shoulder, couple of step-overs and a body swerve left him on his arse, flicked it around him, and then veering out to the right edge of the box, I drew the last covering defender out toward me. Slipped it passed his clumsy challenge, could've gone down for a penalty but stayed on my feet... then I was just about to let fly at goal, but I looked up and saw the keeper coming toward his near post to narrow the angle, and spotted James Beattie curving his run to the back of the area. So I made like I was about to smash a pile-driver -- and instead clipped a delicate ball looping over the keeper to the far post, and Beatts was left with the simple task of nodding it into an empty net, to send St. Mary's mental! Adam: [chuckling] I can remember commentating on it, clear as day. There you were, standing on the touchline, with wee Gordon getting very animated as he was barking instructions into your ear, and it seemed to take ages for the referee to notice and let you on. Wiz: Yeah, actually cos it was a forced substitution if you remember? Fabrice Fernandez had gone down injured again after running one too many crop circles in the grass, but they'd got him off the pitch, and we were down to ten men. The crowd were getting furious, as I was waiting and waiting to be let on, and just as Everton started their break, that's when he looked over and gave me the signal. And I was so pent up from waiting, I was like a caged animal being released, and I just went straight to get that ball. Adam: But at that point, no-one really knew anything about you, and as the tannoy announcer introduced your arrival on the pitch, the timeless cry of "Whhooo?!?" rang out from the away fans. Wiz: And a nano-second later, I was clattering into Thomas Gravesen. Adam: And carving open their dogged defence. And yet, you weren't quite finished there, were you Wiz? Wiz: I guess there were a couple of other relatively significant moments. Adam: [chuckling] You could say that. Wiz: The game had gone into the 90th minute, still locked at 2-2. Everton had retreated completely into their shell, happy to just hold onto the point. I mean literally -- eleven men stuffed into their own box, throwing themselves in front of everything. There was no way through. Adam: And yet, somehow -- you managed to create one out of nothing. And that was a very special moment! Wiz: It was. My first ever Saints goal, and on my debut too! Adam: Of course, but the goal itself Wiz, excited the crowd so much, as it was the kind of magic they thought only Matt Le Tiss could ever produce for them. Wiz: [Laughs] Come on Adam, I'm not fit to tie the laces of Le God! Adam: Well, ok... [chuckling] but it was a special goal, is what I'm saying. And they were a rare comodity at the time. Wiz: It was. And most don't know the story behind it Adam. There you go mate -- A Radio Solent Exclusive!!! That precise kind of strike, is something that I've been practicing since I was about seven or eight years old. We used to have a basketball net on the wall in our back garden. And instead of throwing the ball into the hoop like a normal child -- I developed an obsession with kicking it in there instead. [laughs] Over time, I tried every way imaginable of kicking the ball into that hoop. I quickly found, that even with a precise aim, the pace and angle of the falling football would usually result in it bouncing clear, or "hitting the bar" as I used to call it. In time, I discovered a technique for hitting a dropping ball coming over my shoulder, in such a way as to make it loop slowly, high into the air, then fade and fall quickly. I just innately knew that this was the method I needed to work on and perfect. There was something about the motion and connection itself, that just "felt right." It flowed naturally. I developed this art to the point where I found a very specific "sweet spot" -- striking horizontally through the very bottom of the dropping ball at around shoulder height with an almost roundhouse style kick, and imparting precisely the right amount of backspin. In hitting that "spot" I always felt a tangible 'sense' that perfection had just been touched, the trajectory would almost magically align itself to the target, and as long as my direction was accurate, I just knew it was going in! Adam: And as you got older Wiz, obviously you began to transfer that finely tuned art-form of yours onto the football pitch. Wiz: You really wouldn't believe, or could even imagine, just how much of my life I have dedicated to practising that technique Adam! [laughing] From all manner of ranges and angles. But I always had my one favourite place to hit them from, that in training, I have an almost 70% accuracy rate with! And if it is accurate -- I've yet to see a Keeper keep one out. Adam: Including Thomas Myhre! [laughing] Wiz: Haha, yeah. So we're in the 90th minute, and that dirty cu...sorry, I'm on the radio... [laughs] that dirty bas... Adam: Alan Stubbs... [laughing] Wiz: [laughing] Yes, thank you Adam, Alan Stubbs crudely hacked down Matty Oakley on the edge of the area, just on the left of the D, about 25 yards out. Free Kick. One last chance, in the dying embers of a tense and frenetic game. Gordon is going mad on the touchline, pointing and shouting,... "Wiiiizzzzz!!! Wiiiiiizzzzz!!!" And no-one knew me at all in football then, they just thought he was being even crazier than usual! [laughing] But obviously, I knew he wanted us to try my speciality. Couldn't have wished for anyone better to serve it up for me. Chrissy Marsden could cook you a three course meal with his left foot! So it all rested on one from the training ground, and they're always the most satisfying when they go in. We invest so much time into this, and then it all comes down to one moment. Chris can hit a good free kick with his left, so Everton had to expect this. And then we had Beatts who loved to smash them in from distance, stood slightly off to his right, all looking like he is ready to race onto the ball rolled into his path and smack it. Who was going to bother with the new young lad slowly drifting off toward the other side of the D with his back to the ball, looking completely uninterested, or maybe positioning himself for a rebound off the wall? Adam: Not Everton. Wiz: Right. [laughs] I wander off to casually align myself with their far right post a few yards outside the box, the whistle goes, and that is our cue to spring into immediate action and catch them off-guard. James Beattie begins steaming in towards the ball, Chris lays it into his path, and the wall starts to race out to close him down. James stops the ball dead, and Chrissy Marsden chips it sand-wedge-like up into the air across the edge of the box in my direction, taking everyone by complete surprise. His delivery was absolutely perfect. The ball fell invitingly out of the sky to me at chest height, just as I like it. I lifted my right knee to meet it, flicking it up looping over my head, then span around to my left, watching in slow motion, as the ball fell lazily down over my right shoulder, just as it has done so many times, for hours every day since my childhood. That same old familiar motion. And then, as if taking the action off of super-slowmo... bang! A perfect connection. I got that same old feeling I've had so many times, when I hit that sweet spot. It was going in. I knew it was. I nonchalantly turned my back on the flight of the ball. Arms raised in a celebratory V above my head, and started to walk toward the dugout. What an almighty twa... what an absolute muppet I would have looked, if it didn't! As I calmly strolled away, arms aloft -- about three seconds later, the sudden ecstatic pandemonium in the stands, told me that the ball had indeed arced up beautifully out of reach into the air, hung there for a moment, and then dropped like an arrow into the top righthand corner of the Everton net. Just as I intended. I immediately raced off to the touchline at the sound, and jumped into Gordon Strachan's outstretched arms, before disappearing underneath a pile of Southampton players and staff. Adam: Dave Merrington was going nuts beside me in the commentary box! "OOOOHHHHMYYYYWOOOOORRRRDDD!!!" he bellowed - leaping to his feet. And it takes a lot to get our dear old Dave out of his seat! [chuckling] It was one of those iconic moments in Radio Solent commentary. Hold on... I have an archive on my laptop here somewhere... Here we go... Quote "A truly memorable debut, for the young seventeen year old Southampton born academy lad. Remember the name! Veeshwah Robinson -- has surely just won this game for The Saints, in the dying minutes, with an absolute screamer!!! Dave?" "Whaaat a coooorker, Adam! And he just casually walked away celebrating before the ball had even ripped into the back of the Everton net! WHAT A STORY!" Wiz: But the biggest cheer of the evening was reserved for my final contribution to the game, in the 94th minute. Adam: I've watched that back a number of times over the years. And I still have no idea how you got there. [chuckling] Wiz: It all goes back to what Gordon had said to me way back, after training. "If you lose it, I want to see a fire in your eyes to win it back!" And boy did I lose it! [laughing] It was one of the things that WGS tried so hard to coach out of me. The at times over-elaborate flamboyance, especially in completely unnecessary situations. In desperate times, he had now shown he was willing to take the risks of giving me my creative freedom -- but in those early days, when everything I was touching was turning into gold -- I got too cocky. What I should have done, with Everton now frantically searching for a late equalizer themselves, was just sensibly ran the ball into the corner to see out those last few seconds of Fabrice Fernandez time. But I didn't. I saw the gap between the two defenders closing in on my left as I dribbled down the right channel. The game was crying out for me to simply outpace them down the flank on the outside, but understandably I was flowing with confidence, and I opted for one of my favourite tricks instead, to kill the game off. I slowed my pace, stepped over the ball with my right and flicked it back inside, then went to "windmill" it up over mine and the defenders heads, and nip between them both to collect as it dropped. If it worked, I was clean through on goal with just the keeper to beat, and those slow plodders would never have caught up with me. But it didn't. The ball bobbled slightly just as I moved to flick it up between my heels and over my head, and sadly ended up in David Weir's chest instead. He hoofed it forward to the gigantic Duncan Ferguson, and suddenly Everton were through, four against two at the back. Adam: And like you say Wiz, at that point no one really knew anything about your game. In the space of ten fleeting minutes, we'd discovered that you like to fly into aggressive tackles, go on mazy runs, and score worldies from the edge of the box. But then we learnt something about your determination and work rate. And that you were unbelievably fast when you needed to be! Wiz: Yeah, I'd f... screwed up badly, and let Gordon and my team mates down. And now my great ten minute debut cameo was about to be remembered for all the wrong reasons. I had to make up for it! I just put my head down and sprinted flat out, as fast as I could possibly run, aiming for our penalty box. I knew that's where the final ball would most likely arrive, so rather than what I would usually do and chasing the ball itself, I knew I could potentially save a few vitally important seconds by heading straight for where I thought it would end up, and getting there first. Adam: But you were miles away at the start of that move! Duncan Ferguson chested it down beautifully, turned, and launched the ball over the head of Jason Dodd, down their left flank, taking him out of the game. Tomasz Radzinski took it into his stride, and switched the play again with a wonderful lobbed pass into the path of the on-rushing Paul Gascoigne down the right. Gazza brought it under control, and took the last man Claus Lundekvam out of the picture with a clever little chip into the box. It bounces once into the path of a young Wayne Rooney, who takes it around the despairing sprawl of Saints Keeper Paul Jones, and then steadies himself with the open goal gaping at his mercy, ten yards out and slightly to the left of center. He had to score. Wiz: And the next thing Shrek knows -- his fat ass is crashing to the ground. [laughing] Adam: The "Wiz-Express" arrived right on time, again! Southern Rail please take note. Wiz: Yeah, I slide in across the wet grass on his blindside, and just as he is swinging his foot through the ball, to equalize for Everton in this crucial relegation battle, luckily I timed my sliding scissors kick to perfection, or it would have been a penalty. But at that point, in my mind, it was already a goal anyway if I did nothing. And a penalty is better than a goal. At least initially. [laughs] So I just rammed every bit of power and aggression I could muster on the slide into that scissors motion, smashing through the ball, and by extention, right through Wayne Rooney. Adam: The impact of that challenge was so loud, it was like a gunshot going off around St. Mary's! Wiz: Our Home fans celebrated that tackle like a late winner (and effectively, it was), a ferocious roar rising from behind the Goal in the Chapel End, and spreading rapidly around the ground; as my momentum carried me through with the ball at my feet, into a standing position again on my left foot. I immediately hoofed it clear up towards Beatts with my right, and as I did -- collapsed onto the turf in absolute agony. The shock of the full impact of that challenge had temporarily numbed my foot for a split second, but as soon as I made contact with the ball, the pain was excruciating! I won the ball fair and square, but as Wayne had followed through himself, and no fault to him for it, he was going for the ball, and didn't even know I was there, the full force of his attempted shot crashed straight into my ankle, shattering it in six places. I don't really remember too much after that, apart from the pain. I remember the pain very clearly. [laughing] And, Gordon grabbing my hand as I went down the tunnel, telling me "I am really proud of you son!" That always stayed with me and was very important to me. I let him down, but I made up for it. Even if it was the last thing I did. Adam: After about ten minutes of treatment and concerned medical activity, you left the field on a stretcher with an oxygen mask on your face, so I think at that point we all understood that it must've been pretty serious. I don't think anyone in the crowd that day really knew how to respond as you were being carried off. Without the terrible looking injury it would have been a heroes reception at full time -- but it was obviously tempered by the fact that you appeared to be in a very bad way, so naturally there was a lot of concern for your wellbeing. You certainly got a rousing, but respectful ovation. Wiz: And we won, so that's really all that matters. Adam: [laughing] And that sums up Wiz Robinson in one brief sentence. Wiz: Ha! I like to think I'm a little more complex than that thank you Adam! But, very good. [laughing] Adam: So, onto your second most memorable moment in your career then Wiz? Wiz: Number one was easy. The second is much harder to decide. So many memorable moments. Adam: I could think of at least a couple more Saints related ones. Wiz: Yes, there were a few more goals and assists to speak of, but none of them were in important games. And for me, the most special memories, are the ones that helped my teams to actually achieve something. So I think we have to be looking at my times with AFC Bournemouth, where I spent most of my playing career. Adam: As I've always covered Saints' games not the Cherries, I could do with Tristan and Willo here with us for these! I may recall some myself Wiz, but I'll probably have to defer to you on most. Wiz: I think it has to be the first of our "Great Escape" seasons whilst I was there. The Club was in deep financial trouble, mainly due to the [often whitewashed from the memories] years of 'Arry f*cking Redkrapp's reckless overspending on transfers and wages, in assembling a squad of over-hyped, overpaid, mercenary crap. Why this is surprising to many, I cannot quite fathom. The man has spent his entire managerial career doing exactly the same thing to pretty much every club he has managed. He left us, citing our "financial difficulties" making his position untenable [no more brown envelopes, eh 'Arry!?] -- and turned up a few days later at West Ham, having just taken us for an £800k "golden handshake" to pay up his contract! Something we never really recovered from. We were in the mess we were because of him, and he kicks us when we're down, adding to those "financial difficulties" of his own creation -- by fleecing us for just shy of another £Million! Got to maintain the old Sandbanks Mansion eh, you corrupt saggy faced c... Adam: [interjecting] Clearly you have developed a strong dislike for the man... [laughs] and we can certainly come back to that later if you wish, but for now -- how about your favourite moments from that Great Escape you were telling us about? [chucking] Wiz: [laughs] Haha, yeah, sorry about that Adam. Once I get started on that scummy man, I find it very difficult to stop! [chuckling] Adam: He's not particularly well liked at Southampton either, for obvious reasons. [chuckling] Wiz: Indeed! But yeah -- anyway, the Great Escape. Due to those fiscal struggles, the Club was forced into administration, and almost went to the wall completely. The Football League handed down its incendiary, draconian, infuriatingly harsh penalties on the Club, following a [fair enough] Ten Point Deduction which saw us relegated to League Two, with a staggering SEVENTEEN Point deduction to start the next season with, virtually assuring we would be relegated again, out of the Football League for the first time in our history. Adam: That was disgraceful, and widely condemned in the football world. They were pretty much trying to wash their hands of the club, the way most saw it. Wiz: Exactly. But we refused to die! And we refused to go away. The FL did eventually get shot of us, or was it the other way around? As we're a Premier League Club now! But anyway, After a dismal start, Kevin Bond [another Redkrapp right-hand man] was sacked, Jimmy Quinn replaced him, was crap, and left a few months later, and then came the moment that completely transformed the fortunes of our Club. My team-mate and great friend Eddie Howe was appointed as our new manager, and slowly but surely, we began to overturn that incredible -17 points deficit, and claw our way back into a fighting chance of a highly unlikely survival. For most of the season, we weren't even seriously in a relegation battle. We were screwed! Miles adrift at the bottom of the Christmas League Table, and simply down! No-one gave us the slightest chance of staying up. Adam: But you did! And how much of that do you attribute to your friend Eddie Howe? Wiz: He was brilliant for us, from the moment he stepped up. His passionate, yet calm and assured way of being, was inspirational to the team. He galvanized us, and fired up the old traditional "us against the world" mentality within the camp. The points deficit was enormous, even after the Chistmas period, we were still way adrift at the bottom. So the focus was always just firmly upon winning the next game. We stopped looking at the table [too depressing!] and were told that dwelling on the size of our task would make it seem impossible. So we didn't. Eddie took all the pressure away, and made the Club a fun and enjoyable place to be again, regardless of circumstances. We just came into work, had fun everyday working hard, were excellently prepared on the opposition -- and were then sent out to "enjoy ourselves playing football for a living" on matchdays. Adam: And clearly that worked, as the turnaround in fortunes was quite incredible! Wiz: Absolutely. We started and then kept on winning, and the confidence and momentum started to grow rapidly within the squad. Then after my dramatic late volleyed decider, at then top of the table Exeter City to seal a priceless 3-1 victory, the dressing room was ecstatic and fired right up! We really started to believe we were going to do this! And that belief only made us even stronger and even better! The whole recovery that season was a "favourite moment" -- but the icing on the cake, and the cherry on top, were the final three games of the campaign. We had just clawed our way out of the relegation zone for the first time all season, but were still right in the scrap. And we had to play Chester [Away] and Grimsby [Home], the two sides a place below and above us in the table! We finished knowing we may well need to pick up points away at Play-Off chasing Morecambe on the final day. Adam: It was a dramatic run-in! Wiz: Sure was! A Chester win would have brought them back to just a point behind us, and Grimsby were level with us on points, with a slightly better goal difference. Chester was a scrappy game played in a quagmire, so we couldn't play our expansive brand of passing football. It was a real slog. But Fletch headed us in front late in the second half from my inswinging corner, and I raced onto his late flick on, rounded the keeper, and smashed in the second deep in injury time. Other results went our way, and we knew that if we beat Grimbsy in our last Home game of the season, the Greatest of all Great Escapes would be complete! Adam: And you certainly made hard work of it! Wiz: We did. It was the worst possible start. We went 1-0 down in the first few minutes to a ridiculous goal. One of our players was elbowed in the face, another hacked down right in front of the referee who incredulously waved play on, then a catalogue of errors contributed to a bizarre fluke goal. The whole episode was disastrous! Adam: You left it very late, but eventually found a breakthrough, and set the game up for the most nerve shredding of finishes! Wiz: You can say that again! Adam: You left it very late, but... Wiz: [laughs] S'pose I asked for that. [chuckling] But yes. I think it was in the 80th minute, and we had absolutely battered them, but they had a bus, a brick wall, and a "Super-Keeper" protecting their goal that day! Seriously, he seemed to be flying up into the top corners like superman sometimes, to deny us! They shouldn't given the lad a f.. flipping cape! But finally -- he was beaten. I curled a free kick right into the top left corner of the net from 25 yards, and sent Dean Court temporarily wild with delight -- but it was short lived. The referee reckoned he'd spotted some imaginary "infringement" - and I had to take it again. So I curled it into the top right corner, and that time it counted! Adam: And fittingly, it was your combination with the Big Man once again, that led to the winner! Wiz: Yes. In the 89th minute. The crowd were relieved that we'd at least salvaged the draw, but it was not enough to secure our Football League status at that point. We needed more! And we got it! Fletch won another of his towering headers, and flicked me in down the right. I made tracks down the wing, cut inside, and out again, taking two defenders out of the game, and slung in a wicked outswinging cross, which caught the defenders by surprise. Fletch was ridiculously left unmarked just inside the box, and he absolutely smashed it on the volley, into the roof of the Grimsby net. Dean Court was delirious!!! For -the- Bournemouth Legend, Super Fletch, to get the dramatic winner that saved our League status after that horrendous 17 point deduction -- was a fairytale ending to both the season, and his Cherries playing career. We went away to Morecambe on the final day knowing we were safe, and travelled in party atmosphere! I scored two, made one, and we thrashed the Shrimps 4-0, ending their Play Off hopes, and ensuring we completed the Great Escape by finishing an amazing NINE points clear of relegation! Adam: It was an incredible feat! And surely enough "top memories" in there to satisfy Rich's question. So, let's move on Wiz, as we have lots to cover, in a limited amount of time. I tell you what, why don't I grab that bottle of something nice I brought with me, and we'll take a short break to fix some drinks? It is getting very warm out here in the blazing south coast summer sun! Wiz: Sounds like a plan Adam. I'll grab some glasses. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Adam produced a very welcome bottle of Rémy Martin XO Fine Champagne Cognac, a blend of up to 400 eaux-de-vie. I filled up an ice bucket, and took it along with two heavy glass snifters, back out onto the balcony, miles up in the deep blue sky, looking out over the shimmering Southampton Water and beyond. We settled back into our white leather recliners, and continued with our conversation. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Adam: So, now that we are suitably refreshed, you're back with myself Adam Blackmore on BBC Radio Solent, with Weymouth Manager and South Coast footballing legend -- Wiz Robinson, enjoying the beautiful sunshine out on his Ocean Village Penthouse balcony, looking out across Southampton from way up in the sky. We can see the lovely sight of the St. Mary's Stadium close by to us, and that got me thinking. I wondered Wiz, what is your favourite football ground, and if different, the favourite you have played at during your career? Wiz: Wow, one favourite, Adam!? I don't think that is possible for me! There are so many grounds that I love, all with their own unique character. I couldn't possibly narrow it down to one or two. Best I can do is a top five, but in no particular order. Adam: Ok, fire away. Wiz: The Dell, obviously! It was such a tight, compact little ground, with the crowd feeling right on top of you as a player. Which was great for the Home side, of course. I grew up watching Saints as a kid from first the Upper West Stand with my dad, and later the Milton Road Terrace with my mates. Adam: A good choice. And a second? Wiz: The old Dean Court, before it was rebuilt as an all seater. The old South Stand was fantastic! The amount of noise they used to generate from banging those wooden back-boards, and the great vocal support accompanying it; definitely one of my very favourite Home Ends in football that was. A third, Wisła's Stadion Miejski, for its cauldron-liked atmosphere. The North Stand on matchdays is a sight to behold, with Wisła's most die-hard fans putting on amazing tifo and pyro displays, and about three hours of fanatical non-stop vocal backing for the team, from long before the game starts, til long after it has finished. Adam: That sounds wonderful, I've heard a lot about the Wisła atmosphere, mostly from you, but never had the pleasure. And your last two? Wiz: Athletic Club's iconic former stadium, the San Mamés, or La Catedral, as it was nick-named. As the oldest ground in Spain [excuse me, in the Basque Region! ] until its destruction, it enjoyed a wonderful charm and character, and as a place of expressing Basque National Pride, it produced a phenomenal noise and atmosphere. Last, I'm torn between Crvena Zvezda's Marakana, and Ajax's ArenA Amsterdam. Very different in style and layout, but both are home to some of the hottest and most passionate atmospheres in Europe. Adam: Thanks Wiz, some great selections! You'll love this one! [laughing] Your old mate and Cherries Legend Steve Fletcher texted us to ask you: "Who's the best player you've ever played with, mate? Hint: He was born in Hartlepool. " Wiz: [laughing] Brilliant. Cheers Big Fletch! Honestly -- I really couldn't say. I've been honoured to play with so many great players, some of whom have gone on to have careers at the top level. But who is my favourite player I've ever played with? Then yeah -- definitely the Big Man himself! Me and Super Fletch struck up such a great understanding on the pitch. He would usually be occupying at least two defenders, and it gave me the space to play in. We were a fantastic strike partnership. Steve leading the line, and me carrying him in the creative Number Ten role behind. [laughing] Worked like a dream. Adam: It is hard to imagine you "carrying" Big Fletch Wiz! [laughing] I'm not sure that any man alive could manage that! Wiz: Haha. Willo tried once during a touchline celebration. Got three broken ribs when Fletch landed on him. [laughing] Adam: Ohhh, that I do remember! We still give Willo a good "ribbing" about that from time to time. [chuckling] Wiz: Lame, Adam. [chuckles] Adam: Ok, moving swiftly on... [laughs] Zavor had a very interesting question for you on twitter, which raises a wider topic for me I'd love to hear your thoughts on too, in connection with your well known very affectionate relationship with your fanbase during your career, but also how you feel about the quality of the support you've received over the years. He asked: "Hi Wiz, as you, I am half and half with Southampton and Kraków! But other way around. I wanted to ask, are you happy with English support, or you prefer having Wisła fanatical fans?" Obviously the intent of his question is clear, and you can answer that as you will, but -- I also wanted to ask if you would speak on the wider issue of support in general? How you feel about your many fans, yes, but perhaps a kind of comparison of the levels of support here in England with those further afield in the likes of Eastern Europe, where some games are more like battlefields, with flares going off everywhere and the like? Wiz: Thanks for your question Zavor, another very tricky one to explain my feelings on. And yes, I'm happy to have an extended discussion on it Adam, but Zavor's issue is a great place to start. For me, I think it is very important to first understand, that different countries have their own unique cultures, and to many extents, the way they support their football teams is born out of that culture, or at least aspects of it. So in some ways, I don't find it helpful to compare cultural differences, certainly not with the objective of making any kind of value judgment as to which is "better or worse". They're just different. And different is good. But then, of course we can all have our own personal preferences. And that is fine too. However, if you're wanting to explore cultural comparisons with the intent of seeing what you can learn from one another, ahh, then that's a different thing all together, and something that I happily support. There are always new things we can learn from eachother, across all walks of life. Adam: Of course. Wiz: So yeah, for me at least, it is not right to compare all the wonderful support I have enjoyed from the Saints, Weymouth, Torquay and Bournemouth fans over the years, with the support of a Polish club I've never played for, even though obviously Wisła is a club that is in my blood, and I love very much. It is different, because our cultures are different. Would I love to see a bit more of that colourful Polish passion on the English terraces? Sure. I love all that side of the atmosphere in Polish and Eastern European football, the colourful flares, the inspiring tifo mosaics and displays, the constant 90 minutes vociferous choreographed vocal support -- but it is just not historically a part of English terrace culture, and the way the fans over here support us is special in its own ways that perhaps some of the European clubs don't get. So as I say, not always helpful to compare. I love the support at Wisła, and I love the support I've had from the south of England too. I've always enjoyed a really close and respectful relationship with the fans, and I greatly appreciate their awesome support over the years. Adam: But you'd love to see some "Weymouth Ultras" type groups springing up then, Wiz? [laughing] Wiz: Well, I sense you half jest Adam, but actually, sure, I'd love to see something like that at the Bob Lucas. Definitely. But only if it is done in the right way. You do it because it is your expression of the incredible passion you feel for your club. And that is really important. If you do it half-arsed, almost tongue in cheek, it looks embarrassing. And really, it is better not to start. [laughing] Adam: You mean the Crystal Palace touch? [laughing] Wiz: Haha, don't put words in my mouth Adam... [laughs] I'm not the kind of guy who wants to "call anyone out" or run anyone down. Let's just say that if done right, it can be a fantastic atmosphere and a real encouragement to the team, and if not, it can all be a bit cringeworthy. [chuckling] If you're going to copy something, then really copy it, whole heartedly. And by that I mean the true passion behind it. And there is absolutely no need to all wear matching clothes. [laughs] York City had the right idea a few years ago. Their "Jorviks" made a real racket all around the country, and their support was fantastic for a while. They weren't taking the p*ss. Their hearts were in it 100%, and that came across in their vociferous support. It sounds amusing, but the "Kit-Kat" Stand became a very intimidating atmosphere for visiting teams and fans. I'm not sure of the politics, but for whatever reasons, they obviously disbanded. But they were good while they were around and brought a lot of colour and character to the lower leagues. Adam: So as usual, no "half-measures" with you Wiz. But an all in, 100% "ultra's section" would get your support? Wiz: If you're gonna go the entire pig, 100% dedicated and do it properly, then I'd go a step further than "supporting" it. I'd actively encourage anything that gets behind my lads out there on the pitch, and pushes us on to perform to the best of our ability. I'd even go as far as to say that if you organise it properly, and it's all about creating a fantastic atmosphere to help drive our Club on, then if the only thing stopping it is financing, get in touch with me on the Weymouth Terras Talk forum, and let's see what we can do. As long as there is absolutely no form of violence or hooliganism element to any of it, and it's fully about supporting the team, then I'm happy to help you out in any way I can. I want this place to be an absolute Fortress! Adam: So you'd actually offer to pay for all the merchandise, flags, banners and all that yourself? Then it really would be "Wiz Robinson's Claret & Blue Army!" [laughs] Wiz: I'd prefer that if something was to happen, that it was completely organic, grass-roots, and grown from within our fanbase itself. It would have to be something they want to do, and are fully enthusiastic about. And generally when you are passionate about supporting a cause, you inject as much of your disposable income into it as you can spare. That's another reason it really means something, because you are invested in it. What I'm saying is, that if all that came to fruition and many fans were committed to getting it all up and running, but were coming up short on the finances, I wouldn't want that to be the cause of their initiative failing. In that situation, I'd be happy to help work something out. But it has to start with the fans themselves. Not with me. Has to be genuine. Adam: So you'd effectively like to "light up the flare" in sparking the idea -- then pass it on like the olympic torch, for others to run with? Wiz: Ha, very good Adam. Yes, in a manner of speaking. Adam: Well, there's a challenge for you then, Weymouth fans! Who amongst you has the passion to answer your Manager's call, and transform the Bob Lucas Stadium into a cauldron of noise and colour? Get some discussion going on the Terras Talk forum, and I'm sure Wiz will stop in to see how he can help. It will be very interesting to watch this space, and see what develops. Wiz: Definitely. Adam: So, moving on, and changing direction completely -- we had the following email from Neil in Bournemouth: "Hi Wiz, thanks for doing this. I loved your time with us at Bournemouth, and we all appreciated when you turned down offers from bigger clubs to stay loyal to us. You'll always be a legend here! I wanted to ask, do you have any regrets from your career, maybe from not moving on and playing Premier League football, or not representing either of your countries?" Wiz: Thank you Neil. I loved my time with your wonderful football club just as much as you loved having me. As a general rule, one of my mottos is to live never to have regrets. To embrace the moment, and what will be, will be. But if I were to have one, it would certainly not be never moving on from the Cherries. It would be that after all my efforts for the Club, my career ended just before I was able to complete my ambition of helping AFC Bournemouth into the Premier League, and having my chance to prove myself there too. But you made it without me shortly after, so even that disappointment began to fade somewhat in my celebrations. Adam: So no temptations at all Wiz -- when two Premier League Clubs came in for you? Wiz: No. It was easy for me to reject the offers from Newcastle and Everton. I love Bournemouth, the Club, the Town, the fans, and I know you all teased me for it, but I love Southampton too. It's where I come from. Where my family and my home is. My family, my Clubs all along the south coast I've played for, and the area itself, are where my heart is. I am a Southern lad through and through. There was simply no way that I could leave, and walk away from everything and everyone I love, to live up north. It was bad enough having to play away there. [laughing] So no -- no regrets at all there for me. I had a fantastic career, and loved every moment. I hope now that I can enjoy a long and successful time here in Weymouth at this next stage of my career, venturing into management, at another club I have great affection for. And that my new fans will come to appreciate me as much as you all did. Adam: Do you think that could have been different, if, say -- one of the big London Clubs had come in for you? Much closer to home? Wiz: No, Adam. There was only one Club I would ever have left Bournemouth for, and that would have been to finish my career back home with Southampton. But that wasn't to be. The timing just wasn't right. There was never a concrete offer, but my agent did let me know at one point there may have been some interest late in a January Window. But at that time, we were deeply mired in a relegation battle with AFCB, and I did not feel I could just leave. It would not have been an honourable thing to do. I really would have regretted that. If I got my dream move, but the Cherries got relegated without me. I could not have lived with myself if that had happened. The opportunity never returned, and that was that. But again -- no regrets. Adam: Oooohhhh. How about this one!? From Draz in Southampton -- "South Coast Derby or The Holy War?" Wiz: Incendiary. [laughs] I am a Southampton lad, so naturally, I hate P*rtsm*th with a passion! But the two rivalries are worlds apart. I couldn't choose a favourite, as both are very special to me for their own reasons. Wisła is the Club of my Family, through generations, all playing for and supporting them. It is in my blood, and I love them just as passionately as I love Saints. Adam: Sitting on the fence then, Wiz!? Very unlike you! [laughing] Wiz: Haha. I cannot choose a "favourite". But seriously -- there is no comparison of the rivalries themselves. The Holy War is on a whole different level! Saints P*mpey is fierce in their hatred for each other, yes, of course. But these games, special as they are, mostly pass without serious incident. They are policed with the ridiculously named "bubble" method, and whilst there is a whole lot of mouthing off and a few scuffles break out here and there, the "disorder" is usually pretty well controlled. Adam: But from what you've told me before, the same cannot be said for in Kraków, can it? Wiz: Absolutely not! "The Holy War" is not just an exaggerated title. These games are literally warzones! Kraków is not called The City of Knives without good reason. Sadly, many fans often die during the frequent clashes between the Wisła and Cracovia hooligan elements. A few years back, in response to the rapidly escalating violence in Polish football, authorities and the heads of the hooligan Firms across the country came together to draw up the "Poznań Agreement" -- a document which they all signed banning weapons of any kind during their clashes. All but the two Kraków Clubs, that is. Hence the nickname. Knives, clubs, baseball bats, axes, machette's, sometimes even firearms -- these are the tools of the trade when it comes to The Holy War. And keeping the two warring factions apart, is a bit more than a few lines of police dogs and horses. The thousands strong Riot Squads that attend clashes between Wisła and Cracovia are Paramilitary Forces -- armed with automatic weapons, shotguns, water cannons, officers with mobile tank-fed CS gas spray hoses, Skunk Water, rubber bullets, and even an LRAD Sound Cannon! War is serious business! Adam: Sounds crazy. Must be an incredible experience to be part of that atmosphere of hostility just to watch your team play -- but I think I'll stick to my nice safe English games! Wiz: As I said. It is a War, not a "derby". The games are spent burning each others flags and scarves -- throwing firecrackers, flares, smoke bombs, knives, seats, coins, and kitchen sinks at each other, whilst the Paramilitary Force tries to keep them apart. And it is all just a part of the spectacle, as the "game" on the pitch carries on. But that can often be almost as violent as the war going on off of it! So yeah -- one is an awesome and intense footballing rivalry -- the other is a brutal and vicious war, with a long litany of "revenge killings" over the years. People dragged from their cars and axed in the head, attacked with machette's, all for giving the wrong answer to the age old question: "Who are you for?" Adam: And I'm sure being in the same city must account for some of the increased tensions you speak of? The two sets of fans forced to live side by side? Wiz: Yes. Definitely. Southampton and P*rtsm*th are separated by 27 miles of motorway. Wisła and Cracovia only by the roughly 500 meters of the Błonia meadow that stands between their respective Home Stadiums and housing estates, like a boxing referee, pushing two bristling warriors apart. It is a "tale of two cities" if you will. Worlds apart. The Kraków Divide affects every family and household in the city. Many families, particularly those connected to the Clubs in some ways, have been affected by the violence over the years, and even lost people that we love. Adam: And I know this has affected you personally, with tragedy striking your own family, Wiz. Now, you told me before we began, that you'd be ok talking with us about your heartbreaking losses, but understandably, I will extend the courtesy of asking again, if you're sure you do not mind? Wiz: Thank you Adam, but we are ok. It is not something I've spoken about openly before, but it has been ten years now. And whilst the pain never truly goes away, you somehow find a way to live with it. Adam: It is something those of us who knew you well at the time won't forget, but for those who don't know -- can you talk us through what actually happened that day? Wiz: It was 2006, and Wisła were putting on a celebration of Club Legends, in the build up to the 100th Anniversary of "The Great Kraków Derby" -- so obviously it was a momentous occasion, and the city was gripped with excitement and tension. Naturally, as one of the greatest Wisła Legends, my father had been invited. I was out with minor ankle ligament damage at the time, and on a two week rest from playing any football, doctor's orders, and so knowing what the upcoming event meant to me -- our then Cherries boss Sean O'Driscoll had kindly granted me a few days away in Kraków to take in the celebrations and attend the 100th Great Kraków Derby with my father, and family. A Club car had been arranged to pick us up from John Paul II International Airport on the outskirts of the city. News of our arrival had obvously got out, and there were hundreds of loyal Wisła fans waiting to greet my dad at the airport, and afford him a heroes welcome. That all went off really well, and was wonderful to see how much he was loved. But the Wisła fans were not the only ones awaiting us. We'd not been on the move for long, when our lives were forever changed. In a clearly pre-arranged ambush -- a large black van that we later learned was fitted with a re-enforced steel front grill especially for the purpose, came out of nowhere at an intersection, and smashed straight into the side of our vehicle, at about 60 miles per hour. My father was clearly the target, but as fate would have it, he was sat on the other side of the car to the impact, and escaped with a broken arm. I was sat in the middle back seat next to him, my uncle in the front passenger seat, and Freya to my left in the rear. My uncle was killed instantly by the impact, and I could do nothing but helplessly watch my beautiful wife slowly dying by my side. My dad lost his younger brother that day, and I lost my soul-mate. By the time emergency crews had cut us free from the wreckage, it was too late. Freya's internal injuries were too severe. There was nothing more they could do. She had already gone. Adam: I can only again say how sorry I am for your loss Wiz. I won't even pretend to understand what you must've been through. I can't even begin to imagine. Wiz: There are no words. Freya was my whole world. My life. My everything. My very reason for being, had been cruelly, and so suddenly taken from me. We had been inseperable since we were both eight years old, and she moved into the house next door. Went to the same schools. Sat next to eachother in most classes. We grew up together, and there was hardly a moment since we first met that we were not to be found side by side. Even to the very end. Adam: And all the evidence pointed to this being a deliberate act of violence, rather than a tragic accident? Wiz: Absolutely. There was no doubt it was pre-meditated Adam. Before it had even reached the News Networks, the main Cracovia Firm -- "Anti-Wisła" boldly announced on their website: "Dogs 0-2 Anti-Wisła!!! Early Strike Hits Wisła Hard!!!" It was still six hours before kick off. It was very clear what that message meant. Just like in any war, it was one side claiming responsibility for an attack on the other. As I say, these kind of "revenge killings" have been happening for a large period of our history. Once news broke of our horrific tragedy -- Wisła's top Firm "Sharks" declared on their own website: "Four Jews must die today to avenge this attrocity." "Jews" not meant literally, it is the name Wisła fans give to Cracovia's -- due to the Jewish roots of the club. In addition to my wife and uncle, eight more would lose their lives that day during an unprecedented level of violence, even by the standards of this long-running bloody eternal war. There is nothing "Holy" about it. I love the passion the two sets of supporters have for their respective Clubs -- but no-one should ever have to die because of the football club they love. Adam: Quite. It certainly puts our South Coast Derby into a little more perspective. How did you find the strength to go on, Wiz? Did being part of football help you to cope, or pile on more pressure? Wiz: At first, nothing could help me. I suffered a damaged neck, broken ribs and a punctured lung. I was out for a long time, but even had I been unhurt, I would not have been in any condition to play football. So in one sense, my serious injuries helped, in that it bought me time away from everything to grieve. No-one was expecting to see Wiz Robinson around for a very long while. For the first few months, I passed my time staring vacantly at walls. It wouldn't even register if someone spoke to me. I was utterly numb. Dead inside. Adam: Completely understandable. Wiz: Seven months down the line, my injuries had completely healed, and I had to return to training. I say "had to" -- but I know Sean would have allowed me further compassionate leave. I only had to ask. Don't get me wrong -- I wasn't ready to "move on" -- but I knew that I could not shut myself away from the world forever, and I was ready to start being around other people again, after my long self-imposed isolation. My life would never be the same. How could it? I'd lost the one thing that made me feel whole. I could never be "complete" again. But I still had to carry on living. Without her. And somehow, I have. Once I had returned, it did begin to help, being around the lads again. If only that there was something else I had to do with my focus. It forced me out of my shell, to start interacting with people again. Adam: Understandably, you really struggled that season, but towards the end of it, we started to see something like the old Wiz beginning to return to form. Wiz: It was something my Dad said to me. The words themselves shall remain private, they're very personal to me. At the time, I didn't care about anything anymore. But what he said made me want to come back even stronger, and do it for Freya. After that, I played every game to honour her memory. Adam: You have certainly done that Wiz. I know Freya would be immensely proud of you. Wiz: Thank you Adam. Adam: Well, we shall take another break at that point to recharge our glasses. Stay tuned for more with Wiz next, after the Regional News and Sport. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Regional News and Sport: Breaking... Terras Capture Dragan... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Adam: Welcome back, to our One on One with Wiz Robinson, I'm Adam Blackmore and you're listening to BBC Radio Solent, Sport. We've already gained an in-depth insight into your life Wiz, taking in the humourous, serious, passionate, and at times even emotional sides to what makes you who you are. So far, we've been asking all the questions, but is there anything in particular that you would like to talk about? Wiz: Hummingbirds. Adam: [laughing] What? Wiz: I just think they're really nice. Do you like hummingbirds, Adam? Adam: [laughing] Ok, I think you're pulling my chain Wiz, yes? You don't really want to talk about hummingbirds, or do you? [chuckling] Wiz: No, not really. [laughs] I'm just happy to go with the flow my friend. I know many listeners have sent you their questions, and I always love to hear from our fans, so let's give as many of them some time as we can Adam. Adam: Very good Wiz. Then let us continue! There are a few questions here that you should be able to give some short sharpish answers to Wiz, so how about a quick-fire round? I'll attribute names to questions on our website later. Wiz: Fire away! Adam: You hear the word P*rtsm*th -- what's the first thing that comes into your head? Wiz: Two words. First word: Cheating. Second word: starts with the letter C -- contains five letters, and ends in the letter s. [laughs] Adam: Favourite band / musician? Wiz: Sigur Rós. Amazing ethereal Icelandic post-rock / dream-rock band from Reykjavík. Their sound and their music is popularly described as being "Glacial." To experience Sigur Rós playing live -- is a transformational experience. Adam: If you could change one thing in your career, what would it be? Wiz: I'd give the 100th Kraków Derby a miss. But if that's a bit heavy -- it would be quite nice to see what could've happened for me with Saints, if I hadn't broken my ankle on my debut. Adam: How are you settling in at Weymouth? Wiz: Absolutely loving it so far! And I haven't even met my players yet! Hopefully they won't change that for me too much. [laughing] Adam: If you could meet anyone you've ever worked with, in a dark alley, with no witnesses -- who would it be? Wiz: Rupert Lowe! Adam: Excellent selection! [laughs] Do you like animals Wiz? And do you have any pets? Wiz: I love animals. I like animals more than I like most people. [laughs] I'd love to have pets, but my lifestyle pretty much occludes it. I adore crows. They are scientifically proven to be the 3rd most intelligent animals in the world! Behind only dolphins and some species of apes. I love watching them interacting. I think of my lovely neighbourhood crows as my pets. They are very friendly, and come to visit and keep me company every day. I love that they are free, but choose to come and spend time with me. Even if it is only for the bacon! But they do seem to actively "like" me. Adam: [laughing] Can you believe it's not butter? Wiz: I can believe it's not butter Adam. But I cannot believe that Harry Redkrapp is not in jail! Adam: [laughs] Smoothly done. European Super League? Yes or no? Wiz: Definitely. The Premier League, all the Sky cash, and highly inaccurately named "financial fair play" rules has ruined the competitiveness of English football. Eff the so-called "big clubs" off to play in their own little paradise of riches, and let someone else have a chance of winning the league for a change! Adam: Wage caps. Unfair, or a good idea? Wiz: Great idea. Absolutely! The money that top players in this day and age are taking home, particularly all the stroppy self-absorbed pre-madonna types, is utterly obscene. Stealing a living. There is no way on earth that anyone ever needs to be earning more than £50k a week. And if you cannot live on far less than that, the problem is clearly entirely of your own making! Adam: Obviously you'd love to manage Saints and Cherries oneday -- but any realistic chance we'll ever see you in the hot-seat at Wisła? Wiz: Never say never! It would be very difficult after what happened to my family, but I love the Club, so I'd never categorically rule that out. Oneday? Who knows what the future holds? Adam: Would you prefer the English or Polish National job? Wiz: It would be difficult for me to pick one over the other. There is probably more chance of eventually being offered the Poland job I'd imagine. I know my dad would love that too, and would make him very proud. It's a long way off, I'm just starting out in management. Who knows, I might turn out to be crap. [laughs] Adam: Interesting one. If you were still playing today, which manager would you most like to work with? Wiz: Yes, that is a good question. There are a lot of managers I greatly admire. Obviously Gordon, but as I'm not Scottish, that would be a bit of a problem right now. [laughs] Mauricio Pochettino. Despite the way he left Saints, I just find it impossible not to like the man. He's a top bloke, and a fantastic manager. His high energy, high pressing style of attacking football is very closely aligned with the way I like to play the game myself. I'd never play for Tottenham, for obvious Saints related reasons, but I'm sure he'll land a bigger job oneday, he's that good. But at another club? I'd love to work with him. So much I could learn. Adam: Have to agree with you there Wiz! I know Saints fans were not happy with the manner of his departure, but I've spent a lot of time interviewing and speaking with Maurico off the record, and a nicer, more genuine man you could not wish to meet. And his sides do play fantastic football! Ok Wiz, we have already taken up most of your afternoon, so lets start to wrap things up. I thought this question on twitter from @MLG was a nice lighthearted direction to finish on: "It is known that a lot of real managers like to play the game Football Manager. Do you play? And if so -- can you rate yourself as a player using FM attributes? Wiz: Haha. Funny. I used to play as a kid, back in the Eidos Championship Manager days. Wouldn't have the time now. But yes, I do have a copy of FM17 on my laptop, purely for scouting reasons. Those being that I have a strictly home-based team comprising all of two scouts! And whilst not completely accurate, the extensive database does give me a rough idea of if a player I have no chance of scouting is going to be worth having a look at for myself. Adam: A little bird tells me -- and before you ask, it wasn't a hummingbird, or even one of your crows [laughs] -- that you're in the process of bringing in a promising young Keeper from eastern Europe. Is that something you can comment on, Wiz? And if so, did you use the game to check him out? Wiz: Great. Thanks Adam, I was hoping to keep that on the quiet! A good friend of the family with great football connections on the continent, did give me a call to alert me to the availabilty of a couple of promising young lads abroad. And yes, I'm hoping to have a closer look at them in person. But I did use the FM database to get an idea, yes. One of them, I was told earlier today, will be flying in tomorrow. The other, discussions are still ongoing with. Adam: Interesting! And what about those FM stats, Wiz? We all know what MLG is like, he won't let it rest! [chuckling] Wiz: [laughing] Ok. But I have to start by saying, that I do not feel their method of rating players is completely adequate. Restricting each player's stats to a max of 20, and with only a finite amount of "CA" points to allocate, necessarily means that you cannot create a realistic representation of a player, without making him "too good" for his level in the game when compared with others. For example, due to the "attribute weighting" system -- I'd run out of CA points for having such excellent physical stats, and would not have enough left to properly reflect my full technical ability, if capping it at the game's interpretation of Championship levels of CA. So it forces you to make unrealistic compromises. If I completely rated myself in FM attributes as a player, I'd end up being one of the top players in the world. Adam: [laughing] I never figured you as having delusions of granduer Wiz! Maybe Matt Badcock was right!? [chuckles] Wiz: [laughing] Which is entirely my point Adam! The mechanics are just wrong. I should be able to accurately reflect my ability, without it making me one of the best players in the world. The rating system is inadequate, and could really benefit from an overhaul. It is all down to the compromises you have to make because you're not given enough CA to play with. I should be able to be as good as I actually was, a top Championship standard player [who probably could have been a good Premier League player if I'd left Bournemouth when the offers came in], without having to water down some of my attributes because I run out of CA points. And the best players should be able to be much better than they currently are. Needs to be able to go to, say 300 Max CA, rather than the current 200. Would be able to much more accurately, and precisely define players unique talents that way. Adam: Ahh, I see what you mean. But can you give it your best shot anyway? Do it for MLG!? [laughing] Wiz: Haha. Sure. Will just do my best ones though. Stamina 20 Quickness 20 [17 after my shattered ankle & ruptured Achilles] Determination 20 Work Rate 20 Aggression 20 Bravery 20 Flair 20 Penalties 20 Creativity 19 Agility 18 Balance 17 Dribbling 17 Free Kicks 16 Corners 16 Technique 16 Finishing 15 Composure 15 Movement 15 Passing 15 Tackling 15 Long Shots 15 I think that'll do. [chuckling] Adam: Thanks Wiz. That should spark some interesting debate. One thing is for sure, you were certainly up there with the Penalty Kings, like Le Tiss and Rickie Lambert, having never missed from the spot in a competetive game! No one could disagree with you on that! Wiz: I loved taking penalties Adam. Free goals. I had two techniques for them perfected. The keeper always knew I'd do one of two things, but never which, as I worked hard to get the run-ups looking identical. And even when they guessed right -- they could never keep them out anyway! [chuckling] Adam: Your power and accuracy from the spot, were a rare combination! Wiz: The fans often told me that they celebrated penalties as if we'd already just scored. As they knew that I always would! [laughs] It was a nice record to have. And one I'm very proud of. Adam: Right, last couple of questions for you then Wiz. Wiz: Good timing. We need more ice, and my glass is almost empty. Ready when you are. Adam: Funny, you always strike me as being a glass half full type! Wiz: Oh, I am. Most definitely! But look for yourself Adam! No more than a mouthful in there. Adam: I don't like to say it -- but you always did have a big mouth Wiz. [chuckling] Wiz: [laughing] Hahaha, touché! Well played mate. You know me Adam. I always say exactly what I think. Adam: And that's one of the things we love about you Wiz. Always a straight honest answer. Except when you're taking the michael of course. [laughs] Wiz: And obviously, I'd never dream of doing that. [laughing] Adam: [laughing] Right. So -- hummingbirds, Wiz? What is it that attracts you to them? [laughing] Wiz: [chuckles] Very colourful birds. Very high workrate. That wingspeed! High levels of Consistency, and excellent determination. It must be exhausting. That nectar stuff sure must be worth it! Adam: [chuckling] All very admirable attributes, I am sure. What are your hopes, Wiz, for the season ahead? Wiz: Still having a job at the end of it would be nice! [laughs] Let's be clear. Weymouth Football Club should not be where we are right now. The Club has been f.. screwed over in every-which-way possible. We're lucky to even still have a club, and the fans know that. They saved it! But even now, from what I've already seen of the squad, and with my recent and future additions -- let's be honest. We should be storming this division. This squad should be capable of challenging at the top end of the division above. My hopes, and my goals are very clear. We need to, and should be getting there. So -- absolutely no pressure! [laughs] Adam: As a player Wiz -- you always used to relish the big high pressure games. I would imagine you haven't changed much going into management? Wiz: Not at all Adam. I love the pressure. I thrive under it. I intentionally court it, whip it up, and bring it upon myself -- because it forces me to grow, to improve, and to exceed my own expectations. Adam: And what are your expectations, of yourself, Wiz? Wiz: Simply to be the very best that I can be, and to look for and bring out the very best in all those around me. To work as hard as I possibly can, and even harder, so I can look myself in the mirror at the end of each day, and know that I gave everything I have, and left nothing in the locker. Adam: I don't think anyone could ever accuse you of that Wiz. Speaking of accusations -- I was meaning to ask you, did you have anything you would like to say, or clarify, in response to the, shall we say -- incredibly disingenuous article published about you by Matt Badcock in the Non-League Paper? Wiz: I'd already forgotten about it Adam, but, thank you for asking. Adam: Because I think it was clearly designed to be very incendiary, and people who do not know you so well may have had their opinions unfairly influenced by it, is all, I just thought you might like to issue a response. But, no worries. Wiz: I appreciate you looking out for me my friend, but as I've said to those around me, it really didn't even register a blip on my radar. My Give-a-Toss-Ometer was completely unmoved. All I'll say, is that I really enjoyed Matt's article. It was a fantastic read! [laughing] I'd have been proud of his creativity as a player. It always amuses me when someone thinks they have a handle on who you are, only to be so far wide of the mark, that they're not even in another ball-park, they've emigrated to another country entirely. [chuckles] Adam: Right, I get you. Fair enough. [laughs] Well, thank you so much for having us Wiz, as always, an immaculate host. It has been great talking with you, and on behalf of myself, the team at Radio Solent, and our listeners, I wish you all the very best of luck for the season, and for your hopefully long and successful management career ahead. You certainly deserve it Wiz. Wiz: Thank you Adam, it has been great having you over. I really appreciate you giving me the airtime. I always love talking with our supporters, and it has been great fun. Adam: Anything you'd like to say to the fans before we let you go? Wiz: Thank you for everything. You have been amazing with me through my playing career. You lifted me up in the times I was at my lowest point, and gave me such incredible support. I will always be so grateful. I now hope we can continue that relationship as I move into Management, and enjoy many more successful years together ahead. Particularly to my new Weymouth fans: I've already said, I know your wonderful Club has been through hell, but because of you, we've come out the other side, and still have this fantastic football club to show for it. Thanks to you! I know times have been hard, and the football has not been fun to watch. But we need you now, more than ever! I remember how this place rocked in the good times, three, even four thousand sometimes through the gates, and nigh on seven thousand sell outs for the big cup games. That is League One level support! I ask you to come out in your numbers and support what I want to do here. Because that is the level we want to be playing at. And we cannot get there without your passionate backing. Get ready for some exciting attacking football, and lots of goals! Get behind your local team, and make this place a Fortress!!! Adam: Great stuff! So, as I always end these One on One's -- this has been Adam Blackmore, getting up close and personal, with Wiz Robinson. Wiz: It's a good job your listeners can't see the summer heat has you stripped down to your lingerie, Adam! People might talk. Adam: [laughing] Wiz -- thank you very much for your time! Wiz: Always a pleasure. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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