Launching My Career into Korea

[he_2]

Background to the Story:

Ten years ago, I purchased FM2008. I found it one of the most accessible games of the FM series and ended up with a save that eclipsed any other save I've ever had since CM93 by more than 20 years in game time, and 20 times more enjoyment than any other.

Paul Tilletson (not my real name) was a persona I created for the game, and he embarked on a journeyman career that began at Mamelodi Sundowns in South Africa and took in Busan I Park (South Korea), Cruz Azul (Mexico), Liverpool (England), Vicenza (Italy) and Palmeiras (Brazil) - not to mention disappointing spells as part-time boss of England, The Netherlands and Ghana, At each club , Tilletson oversaw eventual league title wins, at Liverpool he claimed his only continental title (he came close at Sundowns, Cruz Azul and Palmeiras, but ultimately came up short) in a career that spanned 28 seasons before various things got in the way. Somewhere, I still have all of the spreadsheets with each of the teams that Tilletson selected, every result and a full record stretching over well over 1800 matches.

After not being able to efficiently play any game since FM2010, the arrival of a new powerful laptop has heralded a new dawn with FM2018. Since it's the tenth anniversary of Tilletson's original debut in the managerial greatcoat, I've decided the time is right to reincarnate my greatest managerial alter-ego.

Welcome to what I hope will be the first part of  many, of the Paul Tilletson chronicles.

I'm playing FM2018 with the latest database and updates available at the time of writing with the top divisions selected on the following leagues:

England, Italy, Spain, Germany, France, Mexico, Argentina, Brazil, South Africa, South Korea, China, India and Australia.

[he_2]

19th July 2017: Loughton, just outside Milton Keynes - UK

 To wear a tie, or to not wear a tie – that is the question!

One of life’s age-old conundrums had come to visit me in mid-July 2017. I was in the study of my modest 3-bed detached house set within a gated compound on the outskirts of Milton Keynes and needed to make a decision P(retty) D(arned) Q(uickly). The Skype interview was due to begin in less than five minutes and I still had to work out where on earth to sit in relation to the camera to prevent myself from looking like one of those awfully deformed talking heads you always see these days on the 24-hour news channels talking about #Trump #NorthKorea #Russia and #fakenews.

My decision to describe my 3-bed detached dwelling as ‘modest’ has probably encouraged many of you that might be reading this to spit out your coffee in exasperation and want nothing more than to pass water into my own caffeinated drink. However, when set in context with many of my peers, the place is modest.

You see, my name is Paul Tilletson and I am a 36-year old former England International footballer. I played for my country, admittedly without much fanfare, on a dozen occasions (0 goals) alongside folk such as Steven Gerrard, Rio Ferdinand, Frank Lampard, John Terry, Ashley Cole and David Nugent. You may have missed me, I didn’t really manage to impose myself on the national team but I was an adequate and unfussy central midfielder who was put into the side to do a job and generally speaking, I got that job done.

Three and a half years ago, whilst playing for Aston Villa at The Hawthorns, my studs got caught in the turf as I tried to turn away from James Morrison and whilst the top of my leg tried to go in one direction, the bottom half of my leg refused to follow. The result was a wrecked cruciate ligament and after 18-months, retirement.

Thankfully, I’d always fancied the idea of going into coaching or management and had begun my badges early. My early retirement had enabled me to really press-on with my studies and a month ago I passed my UEFA Pro-Licence qualification. Now, I’m seeking to put all of this into action and begin a career on the side-lines.

I never quite struck it right throughout my playing career with my peers. From my time in the Academy at QPR amongst the raw talent that honed their skills in West London cages and on streets amongst tower-blocks, through my time at Wycombe Wanderers, Watford, Southampton, Everton and then Villa, I didn’t quite fit the mould of your typically stereotypical professional footballer. I did my time training, I stayed behind to make the most of my limited talent and got where I did through sheer bloody hard work instead of God-given talent. Indeed, I think the finest complement I was ever paid was by Chris Waddle who, following a turgid 2-0 World Cup Qualifying win at Wembley over Latvia described me as ‘a less charismatic version of Glenn Whelan’.

However, off the pitch I was more likely to be found heading off to a museum of play than a nightclub or hotel room with a busty blonde (or 2) on my arm. Apart from a long-term relationship with a girl I knew at school which ended just before my injury I’ve never been drawn to the whole ‘WAG’ culture and I’m perfectly content driving around in a Seat Ibiza instead of a Bentley or Range Rover. I’m proud of what I achieved in my 380-plus games (23 goals, for the record), but now the time has come to move on to the next step.

Which is how I have come to find myself in this slightly absurd situation of not only having to decide whether or not to wear a tie for this darned interview, but also which colour I should go for if, indeed, I do decide to go without an open collar.

You see, much as I had done my best to shun the limelight during my time as a player – even, most would say, whilst actually on the pitch – so I am hoping to do so with my managerial career. I haven’t even contemplated putting myself forward for a job in the UK, right now that does nothing for me. And to be honest, I don’t really have much interest in coaching in Europe right now either. Instead, I’ve cast my net a little wider.

There had been a couple of interesting looking jobs in India and Mexico that I had been made aware of by my agent, Robert Robinson (fine name, ludicrous haircut) but I had decided against applying for them. Instead, two clubs in South Korea’s K-League had let their managers go. Ulsan Hyundai and Suwon Samsung Bluewings.

When I initially applied for the Ulsan job, I was told that they would get back to me in due course but that they were going to give the caretaker, Kim In-Soo, the opportunity to prove his value and stake his claim for the job on a permanent basis. That was their prerogative, and I was happy to bide my time and see what, if anything, else cropped up.

Ten days later, Suwon fired their coach despite sitting 4^th in the league. I thought nothing of firing off another application and suddenly, within an hour of that my phone rang. It was Kim Jung-Soo, the owner / chairman of Ulsan offering me the opportunity to interview for the role via Skype at 11am the following morning. That was yesterday. Of course, I accepted their offer in a heartbeat and it wasn’t until 10:50 this morning that the tie dilemma reared its knotty head. Gah! I have NO idea what to do.

Sod it, I’m not wearing one.

Yes I am. A blue one, because that’s their club colours – something I learned during a long and late revision session last night. A dark blue shirt and slightly lighter blue skinny tie. That will be fine.

Or not.

ARGH! They’re calling now. 2 minutes early! Will have to go without.

 

[he_2]

19th July 2017: Loughton, just outside Milton Keynes - United Kingdom

I answered the call as casually as I could considering I’d made a last second spur of the moment decision to wear the tie and was halfway through fastening it around my neck when upon my screen appeared five figures sat around a table in what was unmistakably the Ulsan boardroom. There were four men, including Kim Jung-Soo, who led the introductions as I hastily sat down at my desk in a pose somewhere between casual confidence and perilous horror,  and a woman seated to Kim Jung-Soo's right. Kim began the interview.

‘Thank you, Paul, for taking the time to speak to us today.’ He said in impeccable Englis

‘Thank you, Mr Kim for giving me the chance to discuss the position with you.’ I replied in what I thought was English of an equally high standard.

‘Firstly, we are interested to know how you would overcome the language barrier if you were offered the job here at Ulsan.’

Thankfully, I’d had a think about this overnight and was able to provide something of an answer.

‘Well, first of all, Mr Kim, I am quite fortunate that I tend to be able to pick up languages quite quickly. I am fluent in German and also have some Danish and Swedish. If I was offered the role, then I would immerse myself in Korean life and work hard to learn the language as quickly as I possibly could.’

On the screen in front of me, I could see Mr Kim’s four compatriots busily taking notes and then returning their gaze to their screen in absolute harmonious unity as the next question was fired my way.

‘That is good to hear, Paul. Now, we are aware that we are not the only club that you have applied to be manager at. Why have you chosen to apply for so many roles at the same time?’

‘Well,’ I began, biding my time a little more, making sure I chose my words carefully. ‘Becoming a manager is something I have wanted to do for more than ten years now. I always knew it was going to be the next step after I stopped playing. I’m desperate to get a chance to begin my career in the dugout and I feel that Ulsan is a great place to do that.’ I paused to take a sip of water realising that I hadn’t exactly answered his question. ‘Whilst I hope that I am successful here, today, I am also trying to give myself the best chance possible of getting onto the ladder. As a result, when I heard that the Suwon job was available yesterday, I thought it would make sense to apply for that role as well.’

Again, there was furious levels of note taking as I spoke.

‘Do you feel that you would be able to achieve the targets that we set you better than our previous manager was able to?’ Mr Kim asked. I could tell even across thousands of miles, a decent wi-fi connection and video conferencing that this was a man that expected results and that failure to achieve said results would not be welcomed with too many smiles.

‘I am confident that I would be able to achieve any targets set.’ I replied, hoping I didn’t sound too conceited or arrogant. I really didn’t want to be labelled with the same tag as someone like Sam Allardyce before my career had even gotten off the ground.

‘So, do you think you would be able to remain at the club for longer than he did?’

‘Absolutely. If I am successful and appointed manager of your football club, I will do so with the intention of building something successful for the long-term, not just short-term gain.’ Again, although there was a danger of sounding conceited, this was absolutely true. Although ambitious and keen to manage at as high a level as possible, I also wanted to display loyalty to those that put their faith in me. Not only that, but the thought of being lucky enough to build something of a legacy at a club was one that had always had a seductive impact on me, ever since reading books about Bill Shankly, Bob Paisley, Brian Clough and co growing up.

‘We feel that the club has been under-achieving for far too long. How would you be able to take the club forward to the next level?’

I could really feel the scrutiny levels increasing now and took another sip of my water.

‘From what I’ve read and the research I’ve done, I don’t think you’re too far away from where you want to be. I think you’re closer than many people think you are and that with one or two little adjustments, one or two minor tweaks, you will be able to reap the rewards. I believe that I can help you unlock that potential.’

The conversation moved onto the structure of the club, particularly off the field, budgets and my own vision for the club. After another 45-minutes or so in which I had talked at length about my intention to bring an attacking, possession based style of football to the club, and to look to utilise the club’s youth system yet also remaining pragmatic when required to achieve results, Mr Kim brought the interview to a close.

‘Thank you again for your time, Paul, it is highly appreciated by us all,’ he motioned around the table and then, smiling for the first time throughout the entire discussion, informed me that he would be in touch in due course. After thanking him and logging off the laptop, I found myself considering another dilemma.

Should I stay in the UK, or should I go and fly out to South Korea on the off chance that they might offer me the role? On the one hand, if Suwon got in touch to offer me an interview, I’d be able to do that one face to face and in addition, any potential contract negotiations with Ulsan would be better done in person too. However, was I running the risk of getting ahead of myself? Would I make an unmitigated fool of myself?

What should I do? Should I stay or should I go?

What would Joe Strummer do?

[CFuller]

23 minutes ago, he_2 said:

What should I do? Should I stay or should I go?

What would Joe Strummer do?

He would let Mick Jones perform the lead vocals on that song, for one thing. 

In all seriousness, this is a fine start to your story. A little humour here and there is always a great way to draw someone into a new story. "A less charismatic version of Glenn Whelan" 

[he_2]

On 3/22/2018 at 22:34, CFuller said:

He would let Mick Jones perform the lead vocals on that song, for one thing. 

D'oh! 

Thank you very much for overlooking this faux-pas and the encouragement! Very much appreciated.

*

Sunday 23rd July 2017: Suite 307, Hotel Hyundai, Ulsan – South Korea

I listened to the biggest tune from The Clash’s Combat Rock a few times that night as I weighed up in my mind whether or not to be unusually proactive and head around the world on little more than a fool’s errand, yet Joe Strummer (or, indeed, Mick Jones as I later found out) seemed to be even more indecisive than I was. Quite an accolade. Instead, after a night of fitful sleep and tortuous thoughts swimming around my head, I gave my old man a call.

‘Son,’ he began in that wise old manner of his. I listened intently, with baited breath as he paused, clearly searching hard for the right words, for I was his son and I could sense he was about to impart some wisdom my way, ‘you’d be a f*cking idiot not to go.’

Okay, perhaps not THAT much wisdom, more of a typically blunt reality check.

‘If Ulsan want you, they won’t want to be hanging around whilst you dick around packing your bags and getting a banana boat across the world and if Suwon want to speak to you they won’t want to see your f*cking oversized bonce filling up their f*ck-off 90-inch projector screen in their f*ck-off flash hi-tech office, will they? If neither of the clubs decide you’re any use to them minimum is you get a decent sodding holiday out of it. Right?’

Right.

Dad always has a way with words that whilst managing to make the most challenging and intimidating situation shrink into a mere every day decision equal in importance to choosing which pair of socks to wear, or whether to have one lump or two with one’s morning coffee, should also come with its very own bleep machine. Of course, I don’t take sugar with my coffee, nor do I take milk – something which Dad has always thought ‘f*cking decadently bohemian’. That’s a simile for ‘ruddy soft, lad’.

More than that, though, Dad was more often than not right and this occasion was no exception. Although he didn’t know it at the time, he set a whirlwind 72-hours in motion.

I flew into Seoul in the early afternoon of Friday and shortly after landing, my agent Robert Robinson was contacting me to say that the owner of Suwon Bluewings, Kim Hyo-Jin, wanted to speak to me the following day about their vacancy. After instructing Rob to accept the offer of an interview, I swiftly looked up where Suwon was situated, was hugely relieved to find it was only 30 miles or so South of Seoul and promptly booked myself a hotel where I could hurriedly swot up on the Bluewings.

The interview yesterday felt even tougher than the one with Ulsan. Whether or not it felt more intense because I was there in person and could actually look the interview panel in the eyes, I don’t know. Or whether it was because I didn’t feel as though the expectations, or the set-up at the club felt quite right – certainly not as well suited to what I was looking far than I would have liked – I don’t know. But there was a certain awkwardness that permeated much of the conversation, particularly around finances and wage budgets.

At one point, I said that although the transfer budget they were offering me was ample, I would need a little more wriggle room in the wage budget if I was to bring in players to help the club achieve their aims. From the look on the chairman’s face as I mentioned this swiftly changing from one of amiable friendship to ‘unhand my wife, rapscallion!’ in an instant, I figured that I had probably blown my hopes of landing what was probably an even more plum job than the Ulsan post felt like.

I left the mightily impressive Suwon World Cup Stadium in a pretty miserable state of mind. For some absurd reason, I had travelled halfway across the world in a wild, reckless and hopeless pursuit of two jobs – one of which I’d royally buggered up at interview stage just now – and the other I was increasingly certain with each passing second was going to end up way beyond my grasp. I wanted to go and drink. Heavily. However, I could feel the jet-lag beginning to kick in and quite apart from that, in all of my hurried and frenzied research on two of Korea’s leading football clubs, I’d quite forgotten to look up how to order a beer in the local dialect.

Instead, feeling rather morose and alone, I headed back to my hotel room with the firm intention of having a long wallow in a hot bath and getting some much needed sleep.

Alas, upon my arrival at the reception of the Ramada Plaza, I was notified by the clean-cut and improbably beautiful man behind the counter that there was a message waiting for me. As he produced the small white envelope, I could feel my brow knitting itself into a quizzical look. Who on earth could this be from? No-one, apart from myself and the receptionist had any idea where I was staying. Not even my Dad.

Thanking my messenger, I proceeded to the lift turning the envelope over again and again and again, pondering just what was contained inside. For some reason, I didn’t open it whilst moving up the floors choosing instead to do so when I was safely ensconced back in my room. For a fleeting moment, I had myself playing a part in a Frederick Forsyth Cold War thriller, playing a double agent who had just received orders from his Stasi paymasters to perform the final double cross of MI5, also his paymasters. Of course, the whole notion was completely absurd and after closing the door behind me and removing my shoes, I shook myself back to reality.

Laying down on the bed, I finally opened the envelope. Inside was a card that told me that Kim Jung-Soo would like me to call him on the following number (redacted) at 11am the following morning. That morning being this morning.

You may be aware by now, dear reader, that I am quite a cautious soul not prone to bursts of undue or unexpected optimism yet I confess this news did cause my heart to skip a couple of beats. Surely, this had to be good news. I mean, I have no idea how I had been tracked down to this hotel having left not even so much as a trail of crumbs, yet I couldn’t imagine that I would have to give him a call for him to deliver the news of my rejection over the phone. Surely, he’d just do that through Robert.

Yet, there was still a huge nagging doubt that kept gnawing away at the back of my mind brought on largely by my performance in the interview that afternoon. Slowly, but surely, my confidence found itself getting chipped away as I lay awake in the dark, churning over the contents of the interview with Kim and just which part it had been that would cost me the opportunity to begin the next stage of my career in football. Or perhaps it wasn’t just a single part of the conversation, but the entire bloody thing. Perhaps he would say ’Thank you for your interest, but due to your inability to sufficiently dress yourself, we have decided to pass on the opportunity of offering you the role of manager of Hyundai Ulsan.’ Or perhaps it would be ‘You came across like a gibbering fool. Thanks, but no thanks.’

Of course, I knew rationally that all of this anxiety was ultimately pointless. The die had been cast a few days before and no amount of worrying was going to change anything. It was going to be what it was going to be and for better or worse, I was going to have to accept it. Easier said than done, though, when still awake at 2.20am in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar hotel in an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar country.

*

I must have ended up drifting off at some point because this morning I found myself waking up at just before 10am. With just over an hour until I was likely to be delivered my fate, I had the bath that I’d not ended up taking last night, had a good shave and got myself dressed – this time resplendent with the blue shirt and tie combination even though Mr Kim wasn’t going to be able to see me over the phone. No dilly-dallying this time around, oh no, it was time to show off the new and improved Mr Decisive Tilletson, 2K17.

At a couple of minutes before 11, I sat at the dresser in my room and after taking a couple of very deep breaths, dialled the number and waited whilst the phone rang.

‘좋은 아침’ said a female voice on the other end (although it sounded more like ‘Joh-eun achimieyo’ to my untrained ear). She went on to speak at great speed in Korean and the only word I definitely caught was ‘Hyundai’.

‘Oh, um, good morning.’ I stuttered when it was my turn to talk. ‘I am terribly sorry, but I am English and cannot speak Korean.’ I explained.

’Good morning, sir. Is it Mr Tilletson speaking?’ The switch into English was as seamless as it was impressive.

‘Yes, yes it is.’ I confirmed. ‘Could I speak to Mr Kim, please? He should be expecting my call.’

‘Certainly, sir. Please hold.’

I waited for about a minute and a half, the most unnerving silence at the other end of the line did little to assuage my once again increasing anxiety levels. Finally, a click on the other end announced Mr Kim’s arrival into the conversation.

‘Mr Tilletson, Paul. Thank you for ringing. I appreciate it.’

‘My pleasure Mr Kim,’ I replied.

‘How was the interview with Bluewings?’ he asked.

I was momentarily taken aback and couldn’t answer.

Kim laughed. ‘News travels fast in Korea, it’s a tough place to keep a secret, Paul. Especially when you’re a former England footballer.’ All of a sudden the penny dropped. Of course! In spite of being a relative nobody in the English game when compared to Beckham, Gerrard and co, the English game had such a huge following in the far east that the most anonymous of player, like Riccardo Scimeca, would do well not to get recognised.

‘Anyway, I must keep this brief, Paul.’ Kim went on. ‘You really impressed us on Wednesday in your interview and we would like to informally offer you the role of manager of Hyundai Ulsan.’

Again, I found myself a little dumbstruck which gave Kim the opportunity to carry on talking. ‘If you are interested in confirming the role, then we will fly you down to Ulsan this afternoon. There is a room for you at the Hyundai hotel and then tomorrow we will bring you to the Munsu Stadium to sign the contract and get you started.’

My mind was working overtime trying to catch up with what I’d just been told. Thankfully, it wasn’t lagging too far behind.

‘Um, what are the terms?’ I asked.

‘We would like to offer you a contract until December 2019 at what would work out, we think, at approximately 4,500 sterling per week.’

The money wasn’t that important to me, but the security of a 2½ contract certainly was.

‘I’d be honoured to informally accept,’ I began, ‘pending final agreement of the terms, of course.’

I sounded a heck of a lot more assured than I felt inside at that moment.

‘Excellent, Paul. I will make the arrangements now for you to be collected in the next hour and flown to Ulsan. There is a company jet waiting for you in Seoul.’ Kim informed me. ‘If you will excuse me, Paul, I have to go to a Shareholders meeting. Kwok Ji-Heung will be along to look after you, but I look forward to meeting with you tomorrow to finalise everything.’

After spluttering and stammering my thanks before ringing off, I sank back into my chair and allowed my mind to take things in.

I was 95% of the way to being appointed the manager of a football club. Until this moment, I hadn’t thought it truly possible. A mere pipe-dream. I knew of plenty of colleagues I’d played with who were looking to break into management and getting absolutely nowhere. Perhaps casting my net much wider than most was going to pay dividends.

So, that’s how I found myself here, in the Hyundai Hotel (Hyundai appear to own the entire city of Ulsan, judging by what I was able to see from the car, a Hyundai Kona, since you ask, on the way from the airport to the hotel) awaiting what I hope will be my first day in the job. If I can get the contract signed and the ink dried first thing in the morning, I’ll be itching to get cracking.

One interesting sub-plot may await me should all go well tomorrow and I am confirmed as manager of the club – my first match would be at home to Suwon Bluewings, no less. Something to look forward to!

[he_2]

Monday 24^th July 2017: Boardroom – Munsu Stadium, Ulsan – South Korea

Kwok Ji-Heung had been at the hotel to meet me at 09:30 sharp this morning and accompany me to the ground. During the 75-minute journey, partially because of heavy traffic, he told me a little of his background, how he had come to work for the football club via his previous role as a Customer Relationship Manager for the US for Hyundai Motors, what it was like to work for Kim Jung-Soo and just what the football club Ulsan meant to the locals.

‘The K-League is to Koreans what the Premier League is to the English,’ he told me in an accent which betrayed his many years work in the States, ’only, having a club representing the city of Ulsan is quite a new experience. Only since 1990 when the franchise was moved from the Incheon region to Ulsan have the locals been able to truly embrace football. Now, there are many fans passionate about the club. Things have not been so good in recent years, we are used to success – in 2012 we won the Champions League but since then, although we finish second in 2013, we have not been as successful as many fans believe we should be. As a result, crowds are poor and the team doesn't inspire many more than the hardcore’

I’m sure he wasn’t trying to place me under undue pressure deliberately, but he spoke with quite an intensity that told of a burning desire for the club to be successful once again. I knew that since the sacking of Kim Do-Hoon, things had improved markedly. My predecessor had won just one of his previous eleven matches that had seen them slip to 7^th in the 12-team division. Three straight wins without conceding a goal under the caretaker stewardship of Kim In-Soo had seen the ship steady somewhat and move the side up to 5^th, firmly in the fight not only to qualify for Group A of the league Play-Offs at the end of the season, but with a chance still of Champions League qualification once again.

Eventually we arrived at the ground and I was shown straight up to the boardroom where Kim Jung-Soo was waiting for me.

‘Paul, welcome to Ulsan,’ he said with a beaming smile as he greeted me with a firm handshake and an arm around my shoulder and guided me into a very comfortable looking leather chair along one side of the huge and impressively lacquered boardroom table. The chairman sat down next to me and in front of him was a leather-bound folder that reminded me very much of the National Record of Achievement folders that we were encouraged to fill out aged 15 and 16 at school for no apparent benefit whatsoever, and a very expensive looking silver fountain pain standing at a 45-degree angle in a weighted pen stand.

There was a glass decanter containing iced water and a crystalline cut glass in front of me engraved with the Hyundai logo and the football club’s logo.

As if reading my mind, the chairman asked ‘Water?’

I nodded and watched as he expertly filled my class allowing two clear cubes of ice to plop satisfyingly into my tumbler. As he replaced the stopper and placed the decanter back on the table top, there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, the door opened and in walked a man in a full club tracksuit. I guessed he was probably in his late 30s – early 40s, a few years older than me, but not by much. The chairman greeted this newcomer and motioned him to sit across the table from me and Kwok, who had accompanied me into the boardroom to sit next to him.

‘Firstly,, Paul, allow me to introduce Myung Jae-Yong – Assistant Manager of the club.’

I stood up and reached across the table to shake his hand. ‘Nice to meet you,’ I said and was met with a neat bow.

‘Myung here also speaks good English so we will continue with everyone’s agreement?’ The question elicited nods all around, so Kim continued. ‘Paul, thank you for making the journey here today. In this folder here I have a contract.’ He opened the blue leatherette and there was a two page document held together in the top left hand corner with a single staple.

‘The deal we are offering is for 2½ years until the end of December 2019. We will pay you the equivalent of £4,500 per week as well as a bonus of £15,000 for any domestic trophy and £50,000 for a Champions League victory. However, should we be relegated under your tenure as manager, there is a clause that allows us to reduce your salary by 50%.’ He paused for a moment and raised his eye to meet mine and fixed me with a very solemn gaze.

‘Of course, it won’t come to that, will it?’

I felt a little shiver run through me for some reason, as if there was a hidden, unspoken threat in his words, but no sooner had I felt it surge through my veins, and he had completely disarmed me again with a hand on my arm and a roaring laugh. ‘Don’t look so worried, my friend. You will be fine.’ His colleagues joined the laughter and I found myself able to relax a little and raise a smile.

‘Extras include the use of a sponsored Hyundai for your own personal use and the suite at the Hyundai Hotel is yours for the next three months. By that time, you will have the keys to your own penthouse in Dong-gu near the Hotel. This area is popular with foreigners and the club is currently fitting one out for your use.’

I hadn’t expected the use of a car, nor that the club would provide me with living quarters. Goddamit, I hadn’t expected to get the job in the first place! This all sounded too good to be true. But, when presented with the contract there it all was in black and white. Well, more accurately, black on white if one wanted to quibble.

Usually, I’d have had Rob with me to go through the small print and try and haggle the terms of the contract. He was busy, though, handling Peter Crouch’s contract extension at Stoke and to be quite honest, I wasn’t entirely unhappy that he wasn’t around to murky the waters at all. This was what I wanted to do and this was what I was going to do.

‘What do you say, Paul?’ Kim asked me finally.

I didn’t miss a heartbeat.

‘Where do I sign?’

‘Haha,’ Kim chuckled. ‘That’s what I like to see, a man that knows exactly what he wants.’ He removed the pen from the holder and held it out for me to take. I could feel it feel perfectly weighted and balanced in my hand as I read through the detail one more time. A big sigh and I felt like Jed Bartlet from West Wing, or one of the signatories to the Lisbon Treaty. This could be looked back upon as a historic moment. Sure, the chances were against me, but after a moment or two to compose myself, I put pen to paper and signed away the next 30 months of my life.

Or at least what I hoped would be the next 30 months of my life. Time, and results would be the judge of that.

Financially, the deal was for more than ten times less than my last playing contract – yet, I had never been one to dig my heels in over negotiations. I felt thankful for being able to play the game I love at a pretty high level and was happy to take what I was given. That kind of attitude did little for my professional relationship with Rob – in fact it used to drive him wild with frustration. He always claimed that it was to stop me from getting shafted by unscrupulous owners, yet I always suspected it was because he didn’t get the cut that he did with other players he represented.

Whether or not Kim was expecting me to quibble over the terms of the deal or not, I don’t know. He certainly didn’t show any surprise that I didn’t, perhaps that wasn’t the done thing in Korea anyway. I’d find out soon enough, no doubt.

As the ink dried on the contract, Kim handed me over to my second in command. ‘Myung here will spend time showing you around the facilities and to discuss the team now and Kwok will act as your interpreter when required and as a liaison officer for anything you might need over the coming weeks.’ With that, he stood up, collected the folder with the contract in and shook my hand. ‘Welcome aboard, Paul. We are delighted to have you with us and look forward to a long and fruitful relationship. Tomorrow morning before training, we will introduce you to the press. Now, forgive me, I must go. Good luck, Paul.’

As my new boss left the boardroom, I took a moment to have a look around my new surroundings. The honours board on the wall, framed pictures of players over the past 30 years that had represented the club. Craning my neck to look around behind me and out into the stadium that had been built especially for the World Cup fifteen years before and still looked as though it had just been unwrapped. The playing surface, from this distance at least, looked immaculate and the 43,000 seats around the arena provided a colourful backdrop.

Looking down below me, I could see the two dug-outs either side of the tunnel area. Each one with those comfortable bucket-style racing seats set out in a long row and the Hyundai sponsor logo clearly visible to the naked eye. In front of the dugout was the white line that signified the technical area and, my new domain. A surge of excitement pulsed through my body as I thought about walking out for the first time in front of a capacity crowd one day for a big title decider, or perhaps a big continental tie. I knew that Ulsan’s previous home match, a 1-0 victory over Incheon attracted fewer than 4,500 spectators, I knew only too well from experience just how demotivating playing in such a huge almost empty stadium could be. Hopefully, with the help of the man across the table from me, we could build a team that would once again really excite the locals and mobilise them into coming to games on a regular basis.

It was going to be a challenge, but one that I was raring to get cracking with.

[STFCDP1990]

Brilliant story so far! Really looking forward to reading more!

[he_2]

48 minutes ago, STFCDP1990 said:

Brilliant story so far! Really looking forward to reading more!

Thanks so much, STFCDP1990 (that's a username that really trips off the tongue!  )  I really appreciate it.

Much more on the way.

Monday 24^th July 2017: Manager’s Office, Munsu Stadium – Ulsan

Once we were left alone, Myung offered me a tour of the stadium which I was only too glad to accept. Once again, his English was far better than my Korean – in actual fact, it was far better than the English of many of peers from my playing days. A feather in the cap of the Korean education system, perhaps.

As we toured the stadium and Myung told me how things worked on matchdays, I was highly impressed. Although a smaller operation overall than Southampton, Villa and Everton in terms of staff on the ground day-to-day, the arena itself was every bit as impressive as anything of a similar size in the Premier League. It was such a shame that crowds were so low.

’It will be a lot better when we play Suwon,’ Myung mentioned when I brought this up. ’These games against them always attract more supporters. There is quite a healthy rivalry with the Bluewings.’

‘How many can we expect on Wednesday week?’ I asked.

’Excuse me? What is Wednesday week?’ Myung queried.

’Sorry, my apologies. Not Wednesday this week but next week, when Suwon come to town.’ I explained.

‘Oh,’ Myung paused for a moment and mouthed the words to himself with a nod, as if making a mental note. ‘I think we can hope for maybe 8 or 9 thousand.’

It was better than 4½ thousand, but even that inflated number of supporters would be lost in a 40,000 plus capacity arena such as this.

After having a look around the changing rooms, we walked down the tunnel and out into the daylight. The ground looked even more impressive from pitch level – most do. I went to take a step over the rope fence onto the lush green turf but before I could, Myung placed a firm hand on my forearm.

‘No, you mustn’t. Mr Jong will fire at you!’ he warned in an entirely deadpan manner.

‘Hahaha,’ I laughed, tickled by my assistant’s sense of humour.

’Why do you laugh?’ Myung asked, maintaining a straight face.

‘What’s he going to fire at me with?’

‘He keeps an air rifle and shoots at anyone or anything that dares to come into contact with the pitch without his express permission.’

I hesitated for a moment unsure whether my assistant was pulling my leg or not. I’d met the septuagenarian groundsman, Jong Jae-Hoo, a few minutes previously in the home dressing room where he had been busily ironing the corner flags.

‘You’re having me on, aren’t you’ I asked, a little less certain this time.

‘Absolutely not, Mr Tilletson. Even Mr Kim gets shot at if he strays onto the pitch.’

Good grief, I thought. I knew of plenty of protective groundspeople and I’d know many of them that would have used a pellet gun if they thought they’d be able to get away with it to keep waifs and strays away from their masterpiece – but I didn’t think anyone of them were actually mad enough to actually keep a firearm about their person. Looking back into the tunnel, I saw the shadow of a stooped figure turning away from the pitch, carrying the unmistakable shape of a rifle butt in their hand. I breathed an audible sigh of relief as I stepped away from the metaphorical – and almost literal – minefield.

‘Thanks,’ I said, ‘I think you just saved me from being pumped full of lead !’

This time it was Myung’s turn to laugh.

‘Come,’ he said grinning like a satisfied loon. ‘We can walk around the perimeter on the other side of the advertising boards.’

Hurdling the electric boards that were currently blank, we began to walk around each stand in turn. The pitch looked every bit as immaculate close-up as it had from 100 yards away in the boardroom. I was impressed.

As we walked, I began to pump Myung for a bit more detail about the squad. I knew they were sat 5^th in the table, a single point behind next week’s opponents, Suwon, but some way off the top 3.

‘Tell me, what sort of formations and styles are the boys used to?’

‘Well, they are mostly used to playing either with three in the centre of midfield and then two more attacking wide players in support of the centre-forward, or sometimes with one of the midfield three being used in a more advanced position.’ Myung explained. ‘The previous manager liked a little bit of, how you say, flexible in his tactics.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ I replied heartened indeed to hear that there wasn’t going to be a dogma that I’d have to undo in order to introduce a little flexibility and a couple of ways of working, depending on situations and opponents. ‘Have they played in a 4-4-2?’ I asked.

‘Mmm, sometimes only. Usually when they are losing and chasing the game. The previous manager didn’t like to play with two strikers, he didn’t like that shape so mostly he kept the one centre forward – even when losing, sometimes.’

’What about the style? Do they like to pass the ball on the floor, or is it more direct?’ I asked.

‘A mixture,’ Myung replied. ‘It depended on who we were playing and the state of the game. If we were comfortable then we were able to pass the ball around nicely, but when the game was more tight it would be a little more, oh, how do you say, um, pragmatic.’

‘Going a bit longer from back to front?’

‘Yes. But the problem is, and I don’t want to speak badly about the previous manager, but in my view he didn’t like to play with a target man. He played with Lee Jong-Hoo as the striker who is good running behind the back four, but not so good at holding the ball. There are two players, Park Sung-Ho and Junior Negrao, a Brazilian, who are good target men and would have fitted this style better.’

‘Did you talk to him about this? Give him your point of view?’ I asked.

‘Yes, of course!’ Myung replied. ‘I am a professional, not a yes-man!’

I admired Myung’s honesty. The fact that he was prepared to disagree with the decisions of my predecessor was a good thing. Not because I wanted him to be in any way disloyal, but I needed people around me that would challenge my thinking and not be afraid to speak up if they thought I was barking up the wrong tree. I was quite certain that we would be able to forge a decent working relationship together.

Before long, he had to head off and take the afternoon training session. We’d already agreed that I would meet the backroom staff first thing in the morning, the players just prior to training before I met the gentlefolk of the press corps. I thanked him for his time and headed back down the tunnel to find my new office.

Opening the large door with a freshly inscribed name plated affixed to it, I found a good-sized pine desk with a laptop, mobile phone, large file and desk lamp on. Behind it was a very comfortable looking high-backed leather swivel chair and in front of the desk, two less comfortably looking chairs that looked as though they had come straight from my Grandmother’s dining room.

Along one side there was a large leather sofa and behind the desk was a large window that looked out over the Car Park. On the opposite side of the office from the sofa was a large bookcase containing a few box files, a small flat-screen TV and a radio. Walking around the room, I also saw that on the wall facing the desk was a large flat-screen TV along with touch-screen and electro-markers. This must be for analysing matches, I thought. It was an impressive set-up and already felt like home.

As I sat down behind my desk and cherished the moment feeling of having my own domain, my own fiefdom, my own palazzo, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and smiled to myself. Paul Tilletson, Football Manager had arrived.

There was a knock at the door which stirred me from my momentary reverie.

‘Come in.’

Kwok Ji-Heung popped his head around. ‘Can I get you a drink, Paul?’ he asked.

I hadn’t realised just how thirsty I was feeling until he’d mentioned it. But come to mention it, I was feeling pretty parched.

‘Water, please.’ I replied. ’With ice, if possible.’

‘No problem’ Kwok replied. ‘Two minutes, and it’ll be with you.’

As the door closed behind him, my attention turned to the lever arch file on the desk. I knew what was contained within, a thoroughly detailed analysis and report of each player within the club – from first team through to the reserves. There wasn’t really a youth set-up in place at present due to the staff and players all walking out with the previous incumbent of my role. But, from what Myung had told me, there was plenty of quality within the squad and a good mix of youth and experience.

Booting up the laptop (no, not made by Samsung as it happens – that wouldn’t be the done thing, now would it? Not with them owning our next opponents! That’d be like Man City players all driving around in Chevys) and opening a blank document, I also opened the blue file, then began to read and take notes.

[he_2]

Monday 24^th July 2017: Manager’s Office, Munsu Stadium, Ulsan

Having seen my new stage upon which I was to use as my backdrop, it was time to get to know the cast of players that I was to direct. This was not a quick job.

By the time I’d finished the statistical tome, the light was fading outside and I had long since switched on the desk lamp. Largely completed by a data analyst who had left with the cavalcade of exiteers a few weeks before, the work had been kept up to date by Myung since and was a hugely impressive offering.

It provided me with a clear outline of each players’ attributes; their strengths, their weaknesses and perhaps most importantly, their mentalities. From it, I was able to really get a feel for the amount of quality available to me on a local level with a number of South Korean internationals, and also that blend of youth and experience that Myung had described to me.

Rather than making you, dear reader, trawl through the better part of 400 pages of stats, I’ve summarised the main movers and shakers in the squad for you.

I’ll take your thanks as a given.

Goalkeepers:

Kim Yong-Dae – South Korean international goalkeeper with 21 caps to his name. Vastly experienced custodian at 37-years old and with more than 400 league appearances to his name over a 16-year K-League career. Currently out for about 3 weeks with a wrist injury, but by Myung’s reckoning one of the best keepers in the country still, never mind the club.

Oh Seung-Hoon – No relation to former Labour Defence secretary, Geoff, Oh is not only an expression of mild disappointment but also an experienced goalkeeper in his own right. 29 years old, and has played nearly 200 league matches, albeit less than 40 in the K-League.

Defenders:

Lee Ji-Hun – 23-year old right full-back who has just a single first XI appearance to his name. Myung has described him as ‘technically flawed, but physically strong and always works hard to cover his technical shortcomings.’ Probably at the age where he needs to be getting regular first team football, I’ll be watching him closely and considering whether or not to move him on at the end of the season.

Kang Min-Soo – Another South Korean international who has appeared for his country on no fewer than 33 occasions, 31-year old Kang is a powerful influence over the squad and a consistent performer at centre half. Has made 160 appearances for the club over two spells, unfortunately suspended for my opening match due to accumulated cautions.

Richard Windbichler – Austrian centre half, currently out with shin splints that have required specialist intervention. Joined the club at the start of the season after spells in his homeland with Admira Wacker and then Austria Vienna, 26-year old Richard has usually been Kang’s partner at the heart of the defence and has been a key part of the meanest defence so far in the K-League.

Lim Jong-Eun – 27-year old centre back whose appearances have been limited due largely to the form of Kang and Windbichler. Myung praises the way he is able to comfortably play out from the back and gives us another option to the two regulars who are more of your rugged central defensive types.

Jeong Dong-Ho – Another with international recognition to his name, Jeong has appeared for South Korea 5 times. A full-back, equally comfortable at right-back or left-back and could be pressed into service in midfield if required. Loved by the fans for his work rate levels and is approaching 100 league appearances for the club.

Kim Chang-Soo – Attacking full-back with 25 caps for South Korea under his belt. Already contributed 3 goals from right-back this season, and more than 250 league appearances to his name overall. Joined the club at the beginning of the season and made the right-back spot his own.

Park Joo-Ho – Attacking left sided defender who joined the club at the beginning of the season after a lengthy spell in Germany which took in the likes of Basel, Mainz and Dortmund. 30 years old and 33 international caps to his name for South Korea, Park looks a potentially key man in our quest for continental qualification.

Lee Myeung-Jae – Another attacking left-back with Under-23 recognition at national team level. Lee is also able to be deployed as a winger and looks a good, versatile player. Myung says that his ability to whip a cross into the box is pretty well unparalleled amongst the squad.

Midfielders:

Jeong Jae-Yong – A versatile 26-year old central midfielder who can play equally efficiently as a holding midfielder, in a more conventional role or just behind the strikers. Good in the air, and an almost ever present so far this season, Jeong will be sure to play a big role in the final fifteen matches of the season.

Farshid Esmaeili – 23-year old central midfielder who joined at the start of the season from his native Iran. Myung notes that Farshid has taken some time to settle into life in Korea but is just beginning to show glimpses of his play-making potential and ability to strike a ball from distance. He feels that Farshid was let down slightly by my predecessor’s reluctance to utilise a playmaker and to go with a more functional midfield. I really like seeing a playmaker at work, so Farshid will be sure to get his chance between now and the end of the season.

Lee Sang-Heon – Teenage midfield playmaker who Myung notes has the best passing range amongst the entire squad but lacks a little bit of positional awareness and could do with strengthening his all-round game. Already an Under 20 international, Lee certainly has the potential to go somewhere. He’s certainly one I’m going to look forward to watching in training and seeing if I can nurture him into the squad.

Jang Seong-Jae – Young midfielder, just turned 20 who could develop into a decent all-round midfielder. Lacks the vision and technical ability of Lee Sang-Heon but has a better positional awareness. Yet to make his first team debut.

Kim Seong-Joo - Joined in the summer, yet 26-year old Kim has found himself on the fringes of the action and unable to really impose himself on the team. Good set-piece taker and looks to have plenty of ability either in a central midfield role or tucked in on the left. Currently unhappy about his lack of playing time, something I’ll have to confront tomorrow.

Han Seong-Gyu – Another young midfielder, but one who has made his first team breakthrough and appears regularly, if not necessarily as a starter. Fairly quick and nimble, likes to play in behind the strikers as a playmaker, but Myung feels he is better suited to a conventional midfield role with less creative duties.

Jo Young-Cheol – 28-year old left winger who is best deployed in an Inside Forward role, pulling wide from the inside left channel, or cutting into the penalty area. Physically impressive – quick and strong, can be inconsistent in possession though. Been on the fringes this season but has 5 caps for the national team.

Hwang Il-Soo – 29-year old left winger who likes to hug the touchline. Myung credits him as being the most skilful player in the squad, the one capable of creating something out of nothing and is probably the quickest in the squad too. However, as with many wingers, consistency is his problem. Has only feature from the bench this season so far. Capped twice for the national team.

Kim In-Sung – An out and out right winger who displays a decent turn of place and ability to dribble beyond his full-back. What happens next, Myung says, is anyone’s guess. No-one seems to be able to predict what Kim is likely to do, least of all himself. It sounds like the 27-year old is one of a growing collection of unpredictable and mercurial talents available to me. Two descriptions that were never in danger of being applied to myself in my playing days.

Mislav Orsic – Croation attacking midfielder in a similar mould to Niko Krancjar. High praise indeed! I played against Niko and he was sublime to watch. Couldn’t get near him, but he was great to admire. Anyway, best deployed in an Inside Forward role on the left of an attacking 3, or just behind the strikers in a playmaking or ‘Trequarista’ role. Quick, technically deft and with a little bit of flair about him.

Forwards:

Lee Jong-Ho - Top scorer so far with 10 goals this season, only four of which have come in the league. Likes to play up front, but Myung notes that he has an uncanny ability to find space in a wider position on the left-hand side and this is often where he is most dangerous. Composed in front of goal, and when picking out team-mates. Looks like a potential match winner. Capped twice by the national side and has one goal to his name – still only 25.

Kim Seung-Joon -The great prodigy of Ulsan, a young attacker able to play as the central striker or in any position in the line behind. Kim, still only 20, already has more than 50 league appearances to his credit for Ulsan and is a big fans favourite. Thought to have a big future in the game by those inside and outside the club.

Park Sung-Ho – At the other end of the scale, 35-year old Park is a target man who is good in the air and able to link the play nicely. Not the most mobile of folk, he is as strong as a bear. Doesn’t have a great goalscoring record but will surely have a part to play in the remainder of the season. Wants to leave the club, though, for regular first team football. Another thing for me to address tomorrow.

Junior Negao – Brazilian centre-forward who is also best deployed as a target man, Junior has 4 goals in as many starts for the club this season and comes having scored 12 in 16 matches for Daegu, and 20 in 29 for Pattaya United. Something of a journeyman in his native Brazil, also had a spell in Switzerland with Lausanne. If I can get him firing, we could be in for a treat.

Oh Se-Hun – This 18-year old youth team product has a ridiculous goalscoring record at youth team level and Myung tells me that he is the most natural finisher he has seen in his many years coaching. Hopefully I can find a bit of game time for him in the first team this season to see what his mentality is like too.

This gave me plenty of food for thought, and as I unplugged the laptop to take it back to the hotel with me, I found my appetite completely and utterly whetted for what lay ahead.

Tomorrow I had a busy day full of meetings and greetings, but I’d also be able to see the players in action in the flesh for the first time at training. Today has been a day of preparation, of getting my feet under the table and understanding what Hyundai Ulsan currently is. Tomorrow I can really begin to slowly put my stamp onto the club and hopefully take it forward.

Picking up the phone, I noticed there were three numbers stored at the moment. Kim’s, Myung’s and Kwok’s. It was the last of those names that I selected as I walked out of the office, switching off the light on my way.

‘Kwok, sorry it’s so late. I’m ready to get out of here.’

‘No problem, Paul. I’ll meet you in the car.’

Roll on tomorrow.

[he_2]

Tuesday 25^th July 2017: Press Room, Munsu Stadium, Ulsan

I was sat at the table, facing into the darkened press room. There weren’t as many vultures as I had expected to find, but then I was used to the overhyped circus of the Premier League rather than the altogether sleepier, and more sedate K-League. There were a couple of TV cameras set up behind where the journalists sat to get a couple of different feeds, and on the table in front of me half a dozen microphones from various media organisations and half a dozen more smartphones with dictaphone apps were placed at varying angles, yet all pointed in my direction.

Squinting a little into the light coming off one of the video cameras, I did a head count – nine. Not exactly the Spanish Inquisition, I thought, largely because those in the room were mostly Koreans, with one or two Europeans and also, I was in 21^st Century South Korea, not the Kingdom of Aragon in the late 15^th Century. Still, I had been tipped off not to expect too many favours from the gentlemen of the press. As a foreigner I would be viewed with suspicion and would need to be at my very best to win them over. That wasn’t something that would happen overnight.

There was a hold-up before we could get started whilst one of the cameramen dithered over a bit of cabling. I was impatient to get things on the move. This was already my third meeting of the day and it wasn’t yet time for my second morning coffee.

Firstly, I’d spent 20 minutes before the players arrived speaking with the gathered backroom staff. That included everyone from the first team coaching staff right through to the catering team, the administrative folk – everyone who would have a part to play in the running of the club on and off the field during my time.

The theme of the talk was quite simple, how I wanted everyone pulling in the same direction. Disagreements would happen from time to time, but so long as they were dealt with in a sensible and adult manner then I didn’t have an issue with that. What I would have a problem with would be anyone showing another member of staff, regardless of status or pay grade, a lack of decency and respect. Any grievances should be directed to myself, regardless of how minor they might feel.

After getting that off my chest, I spent a further fifteen minutes talking to the footballing staff directly about our aims, my philosophies and vision with regards to where I want the club to be, and how I see us getting there.

‘Success is why we’re here. Or rather, lack of success. If Ulsan was a successful football club I wouldn’t be here and the chances are you lot wouldn’t be either. That has to change, and it begins to change today.’ I told them.

‘I know I sound like every other manager at every other club and you must be wondering why you should believe me when I say that we’re going to be successful. I can guarantee you that when the new Suwon boss meets his coaching staff and players for the first time he’ll be saying the same thing.  Well, perhaps you shouldn’t believe me. Perhaps you should challenge me every single time we meet to prove to you that I have what it takes to take Ulsan back to the top of the tree in Korea.’ I took a moment to look around the dressing room and was delighted to see everyone giving me their undivided attention. ‘Because, and I can guarantee you this, every time I talk to you, I will be challenging you guys to prove to me that you have what it takes to be part of what I want to build at this football club.’

I hoped I had managed to make a little bit of an impression on them and made them think. So long as everyone was pulling in the same direction, we’d make progress. The moment someone began to row the other direction, we’d find ourselves in choppy waters.

The message to the players was largely the same, however with added expectations. I was a little apprehensive about setting them targets of where we should be aiming to finish this season. After-all, I only had 15 matches in which to make an impact. However, the last thing I wanted to have was players drifting through matches with nothing to play for so the moment I had them sat down and attentive, I let them have it.

’You boys are cheats.’ I said. ‘You boys cheated the guy who used to have my job and let him down big time. Shall I tell you how I know that? I know that because the moment he had cleared his desk, you lot suddenly got your heads down and started winning football matches. That isn’t going to happen to me, because if I see any sign of that occurring under my watch, you’ll be out that door long before I will. Understood?’

Giving anyone a lecture is difficult enough, especially when you’re not the most assertive bloke in the world. However, it’s even more difficult when you’re doing it through an interpreter, which is what was happening here. Kwok was translating my words into Korean and I had to trust that what he was saying was a faithful interpretation of what I had said.

I watched the players carefully as Kwok spoke and their facial expressions were full of knotted brows and serious looks. Of course, I’d have been none the wiser if Kwok had actually been saying to them ‘Okay boys, look serious whilst I tell you this as the boss has just given you lot a bit of a rocket, but I think his feet are disproportionately small for the size of his body and that he has the footballing nous of a startled badger. Stick with me, though, and we’ll see him off like we did the other c*nt before him.’

I had to work on the assumption that Kwok’s verbal subtitles hadn’t gone through an intern filter before reaching the players and so continued.

‘This season has been up and down, we all know that. I know, you know and those supporters that come and watch you know that you’re better than this. You’re better than 5^th in the league. Continental qualification is the ABSOLUTE minimum this season. The title is beyond us, the top 3 may be beyond us but getting into the play-off and winning the play-off to reach the Champions League is critical. It’s critical for the club’s future, it’s critical for my future and most of all, ‘ I bent forward a little and jabbed my finger towards a different player as I completed the sentence to emphasise my point, ‘it’s critical for the future of each and every one of you boys.’

I went on to give the lads the same spiel the backroom staff had been given and the coaching staff as well, about respect and about being big and brave enough to challenge something they don’t think is right. Challenge in the right way is a healthy thing, it can inspire sides onto greater achievements. I was a firm believer in that and really wanted to bring it into the club as quickly as I could.

As Myung led them out to training, I asked Kwok to ask Kim Seong-Joo and Park Sung-Ho to pop by the office at Munsu before they left for the day as I wanted to broach the thorny issue of their unhappiness and desire to move on face to face at the earliest opportunity. That would be after I’d watched the afternoon session on the training pitch and would at least give me the chance to form some first opinions about their footballing ability and more importantly, their mentality.

Back to the present, and we’d been given the all-clear to begin the press conference. To my left was sat Hang Ji-Moon, the press officer who would be facilitating things, and to my right was Kwok, who would translate the questions and my answers. Sadly, this need to have things interpreted would mean that the session would last twice as long as necessary. Not that I wasn’t looking forward to meeting the press, (actually, I wasn’t much to be honest, but that’s not the point), but I had so much to get through that I didn’t really want to be sat in front of cameras and microphones for any longer than was strictly necessary. The vultures circling in the seats facing me could rest easy, there would be no 12-minute diatribes for them to have to transcribe.

Hang finally kicked things off by introducing me to the press. Most of this was done in Korean with Kwok quietly translating in my right ear, however he finished off his 30 second intro by saying in very broken English, ‘Please welcome Paul Tilletson!’

There was a minor, almost sarcastic outbreak of applause which made me thank the great lord above that Hang hadn’t channelled the spirit of a PA announcer at a Bundesliga match announcing a goalscorer or substitute and announced by first name in the expectation that the crowd would yell my surname back in reply. Because if he had, he’d have looked an idiot when met by silence and I’d have walked out there and then.

As it was, he opened things up to the floor for questions.

Lajos Gabor, ESPNFC. Paul, do you feel that your ambitions for the club are met by the chairman?

Ah, the mercy of an opening question in English!

‘Absolutely, yes. I can already see in my short time at the club that Kim Jung-Soo is passionate about the club doing well and that every decision he makes is with that aim in mind. I’m lucky that he is now relying on me to share and meet those ambitions.’

Franco Baldassare, Goal.com. The feeling around Korean football is that the wage structure at Ulsan is inhibiting them from signing the calibre of player they need to challenge at the top. Do you share those concerns?

Ah-ha, the early googly. Sorry, Franco, old boy. I’ve picked it.

‘Not at all. The club has a sensible wage structure in place and they have it in place for a reason. There is some wriggle room in there should I need it, but I think the quality for us to challenge is largely already here.

Franco continued his line of attack.

You’ve taken this job without being able to speak Korean. Won’t it be difficult to get to grips with a new job and a new language at the same time?

‘I am fortunate that I have a knack of picking languages up quite quickly. Sure, there will be some challenges along the way but having guys like Kwok here to help me will be invaluable.’ I took a sip of water. ‘Don’t think it’s gone unnoticed that you’ve spoken a word of Korean yet, Franco!’ I grinned and gave the journalist a little wink.

At least it had brought a little life to his otherwise sullen features as he went on.

What do you think went wrong for your predecessor, Kim Do-Hoon?

Again, not falling into that trap either, Cabbage Chops!

‘I’m not going to disrespect Kim Do-Hoon by discussing his time here. It’s not my place to talk about things I had no involvement in. This is a question you need to direct either to Kim himself, or others that were here during the time.’

With the grumpy Frenchman sated, at last I received my first question from a local journalist.

Mr Tilletson, welcome to Korea and welcome to Ulsan. I wish you every success. My name is Lee Dong-Hyun and my question is whether you think you are able to succeed where Kim Do-Hoon failed in meeting the expectations at the club?

‘Thank you, Lee, for the warm welcome. I really appreciate it.’ I said graciously. ‘In answer to your question, I think there are some minor changes that can be made quickly to see an improvement. The team needs to work together and become closer as a unit, which is something we will be working on in the coming weeks. Let’s not forget, though, that they’re currently in a good place confidence wise having won their last three matches in succession. It’s always a lot easier to bring a winning team together than a struggling one.’

Kim Dong-Yong, South Korean Football Chronicle. Your first match in charge is a tough one against rivals Suwon. How well prepared are you for that test?

‘We have eight days preparation time for that match, so we’ll be as ready as we can be for it. I know all about Suwon, I know all about the rivalry. They’re a good side, but so are we.’ I said, breaking into a smile. ‘It should be an absolute belter shouldn’t it?’

That provoked a little laughter from pockets within the room.

Lee Dae-Han, Ulsan Football Messenger. The past few seasons have been barren for Ulsan. Do you believe your arrival can provide the spark for a revival?

‘I’m taking nothing for granted, but I’m hoping that I can be the catalyst to take the football club forward and back to the top of the tree where it belongs.’

With that I gave a signal to Hang that time was up, it was nearing midday and I still had a heck of a lot to do.

‘Thank you, gentlemen, that will be all today.’ Hang said. He went on to talk about arrangements for interview requests and such-like and thanked them for their time. As the journalists began to gather their equipment together, I made my excuses and hurried out of the press room. I wanted to get a quick bite to eat before heading over to the training complex.

In the words of Willy Wonka, so much to do and so little time to do it!

[he_2]

Tuesday 25^th July 2017: Manager’s Office, Munsu Stadium – Ulsan

It was a beautifully sunny afternoon once I’d gotten changed into my shorts, training top and boots. Since my beloved and ancient Mizunos were still back in ol’ Blighty, for the first time I was wearing a pair of Adidas that I’d been left as part of the company’s kit deal with the club. They were certainly a comfortable enough fit, yet they weren’t quite as homely for my feet as the Mizunos were.

As I strolled out onto the training pitch, Myung had the outfield boys gently working off their lunch with some light jogging and gentle stretching. I stood a little way off, happy to observe whilst over on an adjacent pitch, Kwon Chan-Soo and Kim Bum-Soo, the two goalkeeping coaches, had split the four fit goalkeepers on the club’s books into two groups of three and were beginning specialist drills.

The other three members of the coaching staff were busily readying cones for the afternoon drills for those fit enough before the Japanese fitness coach Tomoo Tsukoshi would take those either injured or struggling for fitness off to the gym and treatment rooms where, along with the chief doctor, Son Chang-Ho, he would do whatever was necessary to expedite the lame back to fitness.

Whilst the outfielders were ending the session with a short session of shuttle runs, Myung ambled across to me.

‘Are you happy for me to continue with the planned schedule, boss?’ he asked.

Boss. I liked that he’d called me that in the hearing of the other staff. He seemed like a clever cookie.

‘Absolutely, you carry on. I’ll get involved tomorrow, but today, I just want to observe and get a first impression of what the players are like.’ I replied.

He smiled and bowed at me, before scuttling off in a manner that reminded me of the Pontipines on In The Night Garden, back in the days when I used to watch it with Zack – more often than not dozing off on the sofa whilst doing so.

The ninety-minute session began with some simple one-touch exercises in groups of three before branching out into a square session of keep-ball with two teams aiming to keep the ball from the other, whilst using only two touches. Patrolling each side of the square was a ‘freebie’ player that the side in possession could use as an out ball – they were effectively neutral. At various points throughout the exercise Myung and Kim In-Soo (who had actually been the caretaker boss before I was appointed) would stop proceedings and talk to an individual, or the boys collectively about the need to move off the ball, how to find space when in possession, and how to cut of lines of supply when without the ball.

It was a really well planned session, very well executed and one which had all of the boys fully engaged. It was pretty clear that they had a lot of respect for the coaching staff and one began to wonder just what it was about Kim Do-Hoon that had stopped them for performing for a couple of months. I might pick that threat up with Myung at some point.

The session ended with 20 minutes shooting practice for the midfielders and strikers – two goals in use, each one rotating a pair of goalkeepers – whilst the defenders did some work on shape and moving as a unit, knowing when to shuffle across, when to push out and when to drop a few yards deeper. Again, I enjoyed watching both sessions intently. The quality of finishing wasn’t bad, some players had a bit of a technique issue when striking the ball cleanly and tended to kind of scuff it a little rather than meet it on the sweet spot of the laces. The goalkeepers did pretty well on the whole, and the defensive group looked as though they had quite a tight understanding.

Upon first impressions, there was no need for me to come in and unduly rock the boat on the training pitch.

**

I’m in my office now, feeling quite anxious. Not that I can let it show at all. Training has finished and I’m waiting to have a couple of potentially awkward conversations with a couple of the boys. Park Sung-Ho and Kim Seong-Joo have received summons to discuss their unhappiness with their current lack of action. I’ve never been one for conflict and whilst there’s a chance that the conversations will be grown-up and amicable, I’m well aware that when a disgruntled player is in the room, it’s rare that will happen.

The vast majority of footballers have egos the size of a small continent, you see, yet in spite of their size, they’re also desperately fragile things and easily bruised. I’d include myself in that for in spite of my best efforts to remain grounded and humble, there have undeniably been times where I’ve found myself feeling unnecessarily bruised or put upon when, in actual fact, people have had perfectly sound reasons for leaving me out of a line-up or taking me down a peg or two.

Kwok would be with me to translate, yet not for moral support. His would be an entirely Swiss presence, a pH7 presence – that is entirely neutral.

Ah, there’s the knock on the door. I stand up and walk across to the sofa. Let’s try and set an informal tone.

‘Come in.’’

The door opens and in walks Park Sung-Ho along with Kwok.

I walk towards my centre forward and offer him my hand to shake, he accepts the offer and we bow.

‘Sung-Ho, thank you popping in – please, have a seat.’ I show him to the sofa. ‘Would you like a drink at all?’

Park shakes his head.

‘Okay, we’ll get onto things, then. I understand that you’re unhappy with a lack of playing time under the previous manager?’

I wait whilst Kwok translates for me.

‘Yes, I wasn’t happy with my lack of minutes under Kim Do-Hoon and I’m hoping that now you’re here I can expect to be playing more.’  Park replies.

‘Well, this is a fresh start for everyone,’ I begin, ‘everyone has a clean slate and the opportunity to show me what they can do. If you work hard and impress me in training, then you have a chance of getting game time.’

Kwok translates again and Park’s face hardens somewhat. He’s trying to keep his composure.

‘I appreciate what you are saying, Boss,’ there was something in the way he used the English word ‘Boss’ and with such emphasis that had an undercurrent of mutiny in it, ‘but you need to look at things from my point of view. I am 35 and need to be playing regular football at my age.’

I nod appreciatively.

‘Believe me, Sung-Ho, I understand. I am a year older than you and if I was still playing I would feel the same.’ I say in a conciliatory tone. ‘However, I’m not in a position to make guarantees to anyone. I’ll select the team on merit based on what I see in training. If you work hard and keep your head right, you’ll get your chance between now and the end of the season.’

He doesn’t like my answer. He wants guarantees. I think his reasoning is genuine – he just wants to be playing football at this stage in his career, but what sort of a position will I be putting myself in if I begin making promises I can’t in all honesty necessarily keep?

Park sighs deeply in frustration.

‘Is this your final word on the matter?’ he asks.

‘It is, yes. I need you around for the rest of the season. If you’re still unhappy then, I’ll let you move on. But until then, I need you here. And, most importantly, I need you focused on helping the team. Okay?’

Another sigh.

‘It’s not what I wanted to hear, so I will just have to accept it. I can see you won’t be changing your mind so with your permission, I’ll be going.’

Park stands up, bows towards me and strides out of the office purposefully, leaving me sat down.

I didn’t enjoy that one little bit, but I guess if I’m going to make it as a manager, I’m going to have to get used to pissing people off from time to time. Whilst I’m upsetting one player, I might as well go for the double.

‘Kwok, would you see if Kim Seong-Joo is ready, please?’

My translator pokes his head out and invites the midfielder to come and join is.

Stiffening my resolve, I greet Kim and begin the conversation with my heart thumping and my palms beginning to sweat again, twice in the space of a quarter of an hour.

‘Seong-Joo, I understand you were unhappy with your lack of playing time under the previous manager?’ I begin…

It’s the same scenario playing itself out all over again. How on earth did Bill Murray cope?

[he_2]

Tuesday 1^st August 2017: Main Stand, Munsu Stadium – Ulsan

It’s getting on for 11pm and I should really be getting back to the hotel. It’s been such a hectic day that I have come up to sit in the main stand for ten minutes to unwind before jumping in the car. Tomorrow, at long last, I’ll be leading the team into action for the first time. The past 9 days seems to have been an interminable period, full of preparation for tomorrow evening at 7:30pm when, like a mother duck letting her ducklings waddle off for the last time, my own fledglings will be taking to the field against the Bluewings of Suwon – the club that had cards fallen differently, I could be leading into the same game.

Although things have generally gone well over the past week or so, it hasn’t been without its challenges. Tomorrow evening I’ll be without the guy who will probably be my first-choice goalkeeper, Kim Yong-Dae, who has been injured since I joined the club – and most likely his deputy Oh Seung-Hoon, who damaged his wrist quite badly in training yesterday. He’s rested it today and received some treatment, tomorrow he’ll be given a pain-killing injection but most likely only be fit for the bench. That will mean a call-up for Jeong Hyeol-Cheol, currently languishing in the reserves and on the transfer listed, previously deemed surplus to requirements.

My selection problems didn’t end there.

The defensive heart of the side will be missing as well. Richard Windbichler is still coming back from a bout of shin splints, and although he could also probably be pressed into action if absolutely necessary, defender Lim Jong-Eun. Also missing, through suspension, will be Kang Min-Soo meaning an unlikely call up for 19-year old Lee Sang-Min for his debut. It’s going to be a big test for the youngster, so although he’s been working with the first team squad for the past couple of days, I won’t be telling him he’s starting until an hour before kick-off tomorrow evening. Hopefully, adrenalin will get him through the occasion.

Selection otherwise might throw up one or two other surprises compared to what might have happened if Kim Do-Hoon was still in possession of the managerial hotseat. But, he wasn’t and one or two of those that had been on the fringes had done enough over the week to persuade me that they were worth a chance.

The day had begun with a quick review of the sports pages, many of whom were previewing our game and making a big thing of the young pretender taking on the wily old wizard Choi Jin-Han, who had taken the reins of Suwon in my stead. He was a hero of South Korean football, having been part of the coaching staff at the 2002 World Cup, since when he had gone on to forge out a mightily impressive managerial career of his own. There was a fair amount of intrigue around the game, not only with the managerial sub-plot, but also in terms of the need for points in the chase for continental qualification.

At 10:00 I met the gentlemen of the press once again, feeling rather more relaxed than I did first time around just over a week previously.

Bizarrely, the first question I was asked had absolutely nothing to do with the game, and even less to do with the club. I’ll pass you over to Lee Dae-Han of the Ulsan Football Messenger website to take up the thread.

.

I’ll admit right now that a quizzical look passed across my brow. Here I was getting ready to take charge of my first ever match as a manager, a match between two sides challenging for a top-4 place and the first question I was asked was about a player I’d barely heard of getting transfer listed, something I was fully unaware of, and what my reaction was.

Utterly mad.

Anyway, I gave the question due consideration and rather than laugh the journalist out of the room, answered as best I could.

‘It’s not really for me to say, is it. I mean, I suspect something might have gone on behind the scenes to lead to Hwang Sun-Hong to take this action and it’s not likely to be a decision that he’ll have taken at all lightly.’ I replied, hoping whilst Kwok did what Kwok does that this wasn’t going to set the tone for the entire conference.

It didn’t set the tone for the entire conference but did for the next question. Step forward Lee Dae-Han once again.

Sangju have been the feel-good story of the season so far with their performances defying expectations at every turn. What have you made of them?

What? Hello! A more egotistical soul, perhaps of Portuguese citizenship might have begun to take a little umbrage at the lack of focus on the main attraction here. Even I, was a little miffed – I didn’t want to talk about, who were, admittedly, having a great season whilst challenging for the title - I wanted to talk about Ulsan, Suwon, the game tomorrow.

‘It’s been really interesting to watch it unfold and there are probably lessons there for all of us to learn from the way they’ve gone about things. I really hope they can keep it going.’ I lied. ’It’s a bit of a fairytale isn’t it? A bit like Leicester City back at home last year.’

Next question please. And for heaven’s sake, please make it slightly relevant!

What do you make of rivalries with teams like Suwon which have primarily come about due to on-field competition?

BOOM! Thank you, Lee Dong-Hyun of the South Korean Football Messenger.

‘I think they’re brilliant for fans, players and managers alike. No matter how the rivalry has come about, it’s a big fixture at the end of the day.’ D’oh! Cliché klaxon, cliché klaxon. I’d have to fine myself. ‘Rivalries like this have an amazing history and tradition that it’s impossible to devalue them.’

Lee Dae-Han took up the running now, seizing the baton from his colleague and finally enquiring about the subject in hand.

Will you be changing the team for such a big match?

‘I think it’s vital that we have players who know each other and have a good understanding in games like these, however, we do have one or two unavailable so there will be a few enforced personnel changes.’

Back to Lee Dong-Hyun. We were flying now.

Choi Jin-Han has a great deal of experience available to him at Suwon. What are the challenges that come with facing a side like that?

‘I think Choi Jin-Han is very fortunate to have such experience available to him,’ I began, there but for the grace of God it would have been me… Not that I minded, I was more than happy with the setup here. ‘Clearly, it gives us a lot to think about. We have identified one or two areas that we think we might be able to exploit in terms of fitness as the game goes on, though and that might give us an edge. Of course, they’ve got a lot of experience of these kind of matches in the past which will stand them in good stead.’

Lee Dong-Hyun continued with a bit of a cheeky follow-up.

So, would it be fair to say you’re a bit envious of the amount of experience available to Choi Jin-Han?

The sod. Trying to tie me in knots, wasn’t he?

‘Haha,’ I chuckled. ‘Not at all. Choi Jin-Han is fortunate to have the experience he has available to him in the squad, but I’m luckier having the talent available to me in my squad. What it does mean is that the fans should be in for a real thriller tomorrow evening.’

How will you handle the pressure to this game?

‘I like a little pressure. I thrive under it, there’s no better feeling than the adrenalin pumping through your veins. It keeps things interesting.’ Another white lie. I hated adrenalin pumping through my veins, it made me feel more anxious than excited. It’s why I had to stay away from too much caffeine. Aside from the fact that I wasn’t about to admit to feeling nervous, to be quite honest, I wasn’t feeling much in the way of pressure either.

Now it was turn for the man with the face that had been continuously slapped with a wet fish from a young age, Franco Baldassare to take up the theme.

Have you had to speak to the team to remind them how important it is not to become embroiled in the sort of tempestuous incidents these matches can often play host to?

‘I don’t have any particular worries, this is a disciplined set of lads and they know the importance of remaining calm. That said, when we sit down later on I’ll offer them a little reminder not to get involved in anything they don’t need to.

Lee Dae-Han finished things up with the final question.

Would you agree that your team will have to overcome the considerable talents of Matthew Jurman in order to get off to a positive start?

Jurman had been identified in the reports I’d read about Suwon as a key influence at the heart of the defence. An Australian centre-half who, if he had a good game, Suwon tended to play well.

‘Of course, Jurman is an excellent player and we’ll need to be mindful of his influence, however we mustn’t allow ourselves to fall into the trap of concentrating on one man. They’re a good side packed with good players, we need to make sure we respect everyone.’

That was that. I had other things to do and so called things to a halt at that point.

After lunch, just before the gentle afternoon forty-minute small sided match to round off training, I held a briefing with the players about how we were going to play the following evening. That morning, the coaching staff and I had agreed everything with Kim In-Soo providing a particularly good set of proposals for how we should line-up. Some I accepted, others I felt should be a little more challenging.

The boys were all sat in the press-room, and I had managed to wheel in an interactive white-board screen for us to use to show the shape and outline one or two specifics.

‘Okay, boys,´ I began once they had all settled down. ‘Firstly, well done in training in the past week. I’ve been very impressed with what I’ve seen. The quality has been good, the attitude and application has been spot-on. We need to make sure we carry that into tomorrow from the moment the first whistle goes.’

I used a clicker to switch on the white board and show the tactical shape that we were going into the game with. I had toyed with a 4-2-3-1 formation, however had plumped for the 4-3-3 with two wide attacking midfielders supporting the centre-forward and a deep-lying midfielder instead of the man ‘in the hole’. It had involved plenty of tossing, turning and pillow biting before coming down on what felt like the slightly more conservative shape.

‘I’ll name the team tomorrow just before dinner, but this is how we’re going to go. 4-3-3. We think Suwon are going to go with a 4-2-3-1, so we want to counter that slightly. The key is going to be for the two central midfielders to get forward in support of the centre forward, I don’t want him to be isolated when the ball goes into him with no-one within 15-20 yards. That’s going to do us no good. This man here,’ I used the laser pointer on the clicker to identify the deep-lying midfielder, ‘needs to shield the back-four and give the full-backs a little license to push forward.’

I moved away from the screen and felt the gaze of the players follow me as Kwok interpreted. I felt there should be a verb created in Kwok’s honour – to kwok; to translate Paul Tilletson’s idiot musings into intelligible Korean. Now wasn’t the time to flesh out that idea, I had a couple more points to make.

‘Two more things from me and then I’ll hand over to Kim Il-Soo to take you through specifics with regards to Suwon. Firstly, we’re at home and although everyone has Suwon as slight favourites, I want us to dictate the tempo, to control possession and look to take the game to them. Let’s start as we mean to go on and set a standard. You’re in good form, confidence should be high, let’s get the fans onside from the start. Right?’

Right.

‘Final thing. I want to see a little bit of fluidity, don’t dogmatically stick to your positions, keep the oppo guessing. We’ve done a little of that in training, don’t be shy about taking the odd risk and pulling your marker out of position and out of their comfort zone.’

‘Okay, that’s it from me. Any questions?’

Silence, some shakes of the head. Good. Either that meant my message had been received loud and clear or the boys were too shy to tell me that I’d made no sense whatsoever. We’d find out tomorrow.

I handed over to Kim Il-Soo and listened as he took the lads through the various strengths and weaknesses of Suwon, it was impressively concise yet with just enough detail and finished in good time to nip any yawners in the bud. I knew from my own experience that drawling on for any more than about 20 minutes about tactics would do more harm than good.

That was largely that. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent sorting out tickets for the players – including one for my old man who was making the trip over to support me. I wouldn’t be able to see him before the game, but we’d agreed to meet up for dinner after the game. I also took the opportunity to get some of the loose ends tied up that I’d not managed to do after leaving the UK in such a hurry.

Before I knew it, the place was near-deserted, and the clock was telling me it was time to get home. My mind was absolutely swimming, so I chose to take a few minutes out to relax and let it wander in the relative peace and quiet of the deserted stadium.

As I sat there, letting thoughts slink out of my mind and into the night sky, I noticed the slightly hunched figure of Jong Jae-Hoo appear at the side of pitch from the mouth of the tunnel, overlooking his masterpiece and air-rifle in hand in case of any interlopers, whether man or beast. There were neither and after a couple of moments, he slowly turned back and wandered back down the tunnel, hopefully on his own way home.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough now.

[he_2]

Matchday 1

Wednesday 2^nd August 2017

KEB Hanabank K-League Classic

Ulsan Hyundai v Samsung Suwon Bluewings

Munsu Stadium, Ulsan

19:30 kick-off

Here we are. At last. Nothing more I can do now, it’s down to those blue shirted souls on the pitch. The eleven players I’ve chosen to take the fight to Suwon and hopefully get my career off to a flying start.

Nerves are jangling crazily, I’m sure Myung can hear them sat next to me. I feel as if I’m going to be sick. Although I was often racked with nerves as a player, it was never this acute. I felt utterly sick. At least as a player I could pro-actively do my darnedest to affect the outcome of the game – here on the bench, I feel so vulnerable, so helpless!

The two teams are going through the ritual fair-play handshakes, I’ve shaken hands with Choi Jin-Han and he had been kind enough to offer me a couple of words of encouragement. In the tunnel I’d had to front up to a TV interviewer and tell him how calm I was feeling and how much I was looking forward to the game.

Another lie.

I wanted out!

I couldn’t though.

As I emerged from the tunnel, I’d had a rousing reception from the Ulsan faithful. Very generous, and so I’d swallowed the sick feeling in my throat down and given them a good wave and applauded them. As lovely as that was, it did nothing to sate my anxiety. It probably worsened it a little, to be quite honest.

I had to stick it out. Down to those eleven players in the huddle now.

Those eleven players.

Jeong Hyeon-Cheol, Kim Chang-Soo, Lim Jong-Eun, Lee Sang-Min, Park Joo-Ho, Jeong Jae-Yong, Farhad Esmaeili, Han Seung-Gyu, Kim In-Sung, Mislav Orsic and Junior Negao.

Nothing more I could do.

The players got into their shape ready for kick off, each one going through their own little ritual now. I said a silent prayer and looked up to where my old man was sat in the stand. He saw me looking up and gave me a wink that said ‘Everything will be okay, son.’

A degree of reassurance, perhaps.

The way may heart is trying to escape my any means possible – through my chest, out of my mouth suggests otherwise.

Kick Off: Ulsan Hyundai v Samsung Suwon Bluewings

The referee’s whistle shrills and the game begins, the crowd (it looked around 9 – 10,000 strong, Myung told me) greeting the kick-off with a roar.

The opening exchanges are as frenetic and error-strewn as you’d expect from a game between a couple of close rivals. As the game settles down, so does my anxiety and I’m able to focus on what’s happening on the pitch.

There’s a couple of early cautions for visiting players, guilty of being slightly over-zealous in their tackling and harrying of my players. Thankfully, my boys remain calm and disciplined.

The clearest sight of goal in the opening stages comes on twenty minutes and falls to the visiting centre forward, Damjanovic. He shoots from just inside the D on the edge of the penalty area and sends his shot narrowly over the angle of post and crossbar. Jeong Hyeon-Cheol had looked a little nervy in the early stages and he is as relieved as I am to see the ball thump into the hoardings behind the goal.

Five minutes passes and it’s our turn to threaten. Mislav Orsic sends in a free-kick from just inside the left touchline and Lim Jong-Eun flicks the header on towards the far post in the heart of the penalty area. Farhad Esmaeili retrieves possession, drives to the by-line and clips a lovely cross up to the far post where Junior Negao rises highest. Unfortunately, he can’t direct his header down and it goes a foot over the crossbar.

Now that I know that my team can create opportunities, I settle down further.

Not for long, though, as less than four minutes later, the teenage debutant Lee Sang-Min shows his inexperience and gives the ball away trying to play out from the back. He passes it straight to a white shirted opponent who works the ball wide to the right for Ahn Hyeon-Beom who in turn has space and time to drive a low cross into the penalty area giving Yeom Ki-Hoon the simplest of tasks to turn the ball into the net from inside the six-yard box to give the visitors the lead.

****.

That really wasn’t in the script.

I am off my seat and shouting encouragement. ‘Come on, boys. Start again!’ I shout, ultimately slightly aimlessly since my English words would be falling upon foreign ears. Still, it made me feel a little better and released a little angst.

Within three minutes, Lee Sang-Min’s debut almost turns from bad to disastrous. Hyeon-Beom heads a ball on and in true school playground style, Sang-Min appears to close his eyes and ends up jumping under the ball, totally misjudging the bounce and letting in Damjanovic. One touch from the Serbian centre-forward creates half a foot of space and his second touch is a shot that looks destined for the top corner of the net. Jeong Hyeon-Cheol flings himself to his left and produces a magnificent save, getting fingers to the ball and sending it behind for a corner.

Relief again, we’re still alive. Just about.

Rocked by the goal, the boys work hard to stay afloat and get a foothold back in the game. Three minutes before the break they put together a move of real quality involving Esmaeili, Jeong Jae-Yong, Han Seung-Gyu and Junior Negrao, producing nice little triangles and moving through the centre third of the pitch. Han, 25 yards from goal shapes to shoot but instead feeds a neat little pass with the outside of his right foot into the path of Negrao. One touch from the Brazilian to get into the penalty area and his second fizzes a low shot beyond Shin Hwa-Yong in the Suwon goal, and takes the topcoat of paint off the far upright as it goes just the wrong side of the post.

‘Better!’ I shout, channelling my inner Andy Townsend. ‘Much better.’

That’s it at the break, I head down the tunnel as the whistle goes and peak up at my Dad again. He gives me a look that tells me all I need to know. I nod in agreement and make sure I am first into the dressing room.

Half Time: Ulsan Hyundai 0-1 Samsung Suwon Bluewings

The boys file in one-by-one, and there’s plenty of chatter as they pick up a drinks bottle from one of the carriers that have been placed on the physio’s bed in the centre of the room. I let them talk amongst themselves for a couple of minutes before clapping my hands to get their attention.

‘First things first, boys. Anyone struggling with any knocks?’

Kwok translates and there are no takers.

‘Good. I’m going to keep this brief. That first 35 minutes wasn’t good enough. We were too passive and reactive, waiting for things to happen rather than making them happen. When you get back out there I want you to press higher up the pitch, and when in possession, look to make something happen. That move at the end that ended with Junior nearly scoring, that was brilliant. Concise, precise and very nearly fantastic.’

I watch the players’ reaction as Kwok translates and can feel the motivation levels rise. This was exactly the kind of reaction I’m after

‘Anything to add?’ I ask Myung. He shakes his head.

‘Question, boys?’ I ask the players. They shake their heads.

‘Then let’s get this thing done now!’

I leave the boys to it at that point, leaving the room and pacing at the back of the tunnel. Already I had an idea forming in the back of my mind as to what I was going to do after 15-20 minutes if things didn’t improve. We didn’t necessarily have to have scored in that time, but I wanted to see more intent at the very least.

As the buzzer goes a few minutes later and as the players begin to file out, I find Lee Sang-Min and walk out with him, my hand on his shoulder. I know he has some English from the conversation earlier in the day when I tell him he’s playing. ‘Listen, Sang-Min. There’s no pressure on you in this second half, okay? Just relax, play your natural game, keep things simple and you’ll be fine.’

‘Thanks, boss’ He says, and I feel the tension in his shoulders lessen. Not fall away entirely but lessen. That’s good enough.

Second Half: Ulsan Hyundai 0-1 Samsung Suwon Bluewings

It takes just over three minutes for our task to get that much more difficult. From a corner, Jeong Jae-Yong quite clearly tugs the shirt of Cristovam – a tug so bloody obvious that I can see it from 50 yards away and gives the referee the easiest decision of the evening. Penalty.

For some unfathomable reason, Jae-Yong has the temerity to argue with the decision and is rightly cautioned. Whether for the challenge or his dispute is unclear, but what is clear is that his afternoon is over.

‘Get Lee Jong-Ho stripped,’ I tell Myung as I watch Jae-Yong receive a lengthy lecture from the referee. ‘I want ready for the restart whether they score or miss. 4-2-3-1 with Orsic in the hole and Jong-Ho on the left. Tell him I want him to play 5 yards inside their right-back. Give him a decision over whether to come inside and mark him, or give him a little space to play in. Okay?’

‘Sure thing, boss.’ Myung replies. As the penalty is getting ready to be taken I hand the piece of paper over to the 4^th official.

Lee Jong-Ho is stripped by the time the referee’s whistle is blown. Kim Sang-Min steps up left footed and although Jeong Hyeon-Cheol goes the right way, he has no chance. Fine penalty, all of a sudden we’re 2-0 down and staring up at the foot of a mountain to climb.

Jong-Ho trots on as the players line-up to restart and relays the instructions. I shake hands with Jae-Yong as he leaves the field and look at the boys’ body language. There are a few with hands on hips, but one or two clapping hands and looking to motivate. I have no idea how this change of shape is going to pan-out – we’re now matching our opponents and there are potential gaps to be exploited in front of both back fours.

16 seconds it takes to pay dividends. Just 16 seconds. The game restarts, and a move of a dozen passes between half a dozen blue-shirts without a white shirt getting near the ball, never mind touching it ends with Orsic sending a delicious pass in behind the Suwon right back for Lee Jong-Ho to gallop onto. Two touches to reach the by-line and one more to send the ball fizzing across the 6-yard box where’s it’s met at pace first time by the onrushing right-winger Kim In-Sung at the far post to slide into an unguarded net.

1-2, we were right back in the game with forty-minutes remaining. What an instant impact that change had provided. Quite beyond my wildest dreams! I look up at Dad and he has his fists clenched.

Still a lot to do and whilst Suwon had the advantage, the ball is still very much in our court to force the pace, to attack and put them under pressure.

Two and a half minutes later and there is panic in the Suwon defence. A cross in from Kim In-Sung is hacked clear by Jeong Hyuk near the by-line under little pressure. Lee Jong-Ho is able to collect possession some 30 yards from goal and feed it into Orsic, just inside the D. The Croatian hits a devil of a strike that looks for all the world as if it’s in – Shin Hwa-Yong is grasping at thin air – but the ball thumps back off the face of the upright. We’ve got them on the rack, can we press home our advantage?

We can’t. Suwon get back into the game and restore order. Although we pass the ball well and create openings, the final ball isn’t quite right, or the Suwon defence clear their lines.

Mid-point of the second half and my thoughts are beginning to turn towards making a second personnel switch. We have a throw-in on the left-hand side, level with the edge of the Suwon penalty area. Park Joo-Ho sends the ball down the line for Orsic, who is able to cut in off the flank towards the penalty area. Rather than sending the ball into the 18-yard box, he cuts it back to the waiting Esmaeili right on the edge of the box. The ball is pretty well on the chalk when the Iranian midfielder hits it low and true towards goal. It skips once off the turf, like one of Barnes Wallis’ bouncing bombs and ends up beating Shin Hwa-Yong’s desperate dive, arrowing just inside the near posts and nestling in the back of the net.

As the net ripples, the place erupts! The home fans make a deafening din and everyone on the home bench – substitutes and coaching staff alike – are up on their feet, leaping into the air and giving it a thoroughly good beating. I’m encased in a group hug with Myung, Kim Il-Soo and a couple of the other coaches.

2-2. We’d done it! Back on terms and looking on-top. Shelve any thoughts of any more changes for a few more minutes, young Paul. Let’s see how things pan out now.

I leave it for 10 minutes, and although we’re still on top, Suwon are beginning to attack with greater urgency as well. Neither side looks likely to settle for a point. Neither side really wants a point, it will do neither of us much good in the grand scheme of things.

With twelve minutes remaining, Jeong Hyeon-Cheol makes another brilliant stop at full stretch, this time from a low Damjanovic shot instead of one headed for the top corner. The Suwon marksman should really score, he has acres of space having lost Lee Sang-Min. Jeong looks as though he’s dived past the effort but he shows presence of mind to stick an arm up as he dives and paw the ball away from the danger zone.

‘Jeez, we were lucky there,’ I say to Myung. ‘Tell them to tighten things up a little.’

He does, but they don’t. They still pour forward and with just over 6 minutes remaining we look short staffed defensively as Damjanovic breaks down the right-hand side. He tries to get an early cross in but it hits Lee Sang-Min and rebounds nicely for Park Doo-Ho who’s rather further forward than I’d have liked at this stage.

Park keeps it in play and clips the ball in-field to Esmaeili who plays a gorgeous volleyed first time pass forward for Lee Jong-Ho. Jong-Ho receives possession just inside the Suwon half and advances a dozen yards before slipping the ball forward for Negao. The strapping striker takes the ball on into the penalty area and rather than shooting, squares it for the onrushing Orsic to meet first time right-footed about 9 yards out and fire the ball high into the roof of the net.

Again, the place erupts, everyone now out of their seats, even Dad, never one prone to emotion is out of his seat applauding. A super goal, the advantage and just over five minutes to see it out.

‘F*cking let them know they need to sit in a bit now!’ I instruct Myung, inadvertently using an expletive as I did so. It was rare that I swore, generally only when emotion got the better of me.

Emotion was getting the better of me now. I need to calm down otherwise there’s every chance my tension is going to feed into the players.

The players listen to Myung, they heed what Myung says. They sit a little deeper and defend sensibly, all the while looking to break where possible.

Time ticks away, we’re holding on comfortably. I’m still nervous though, all it takes is one lapse in concentration, one momentary slip, one moment of magic.

Into the final minute of the 90 and we win a free kick inside the Suwon half.

‘Keep the ball!’ I shout.

The boys do so, for a moment, before Han Seung-Gyu shows nice feet and slips Orsic into the penalty area. The angle is bang on for him to shoot, he chooses not though, instead squaring the ball across the 6-yard box where Negao and Kim In-Soo are converging. The latter wins the race and gleefully lashes the ball home for his second goal of the afternoon and surely, the one which secures an unlikely three points.

There’s a party atmosphere breaking out in the stands and on the bench. I ask Myung to settle the boys down. As thrilling a come-back as this has been, we ned to remain dignified in victory. I look across at my counterpart, Choi Jin-Han who stands, looking pensively at the final few moments. He knows his side is beaten, his side know that they are beaten. Arms folded almost staring into space.

Just forty short minutes ago things looked so different. I couldn’t have asked for a more incredible beginning to my managerial career. I feel euphoric, the tactical change had paid dividends and Suwon had been unable to cope with our revised shape.

As the 93^rd minute ends, the referee puts the whistle to his mouth and brings the action to a close. I take the congratulations from my coaching staff who run onto the pitch to celebrate and head across to meet Choi Jin-Han.

He offers me his hand which I take and shake.

‘Hard luck, today’ I say. ‘Could so easily have been roles reversed.’

‘No, Paul. You deserved to win today,’ he says magnanimously. ‘You outfoxed me with that change just after we scored the penalty. Very well done.’

Wow, those words make me glow inside. I feel ten feet tall. I offer him a drink after the press conference is done which he kindly accepts and I’m able to turn my attention to the players who are just beginning to troop off.

Standing at the mouth of the tunnel, I shake each one by the hand as come past and congratulate them for their efforts in turning the game around.

Just before I depart myself, after Jeong Hyeon-Cheol, I glance up into the main stand once more. Dad’s still there. Thumbs up and a mini-fist pump.

Get in!

Full Time: Ulsan Hyundai 4-2 Samsung Suwon Bluewings

Attendance: 10,329

[he_2]

Results and Table

Jeonnam              1 – 2      Sangju

Incheon               0 – 1      Jeonbuk

Pohang                2 – 1      Gwangju

Seoul                    1 – 0      Gangwon

Ulsan                    4 – 2      Suwon

Jeju                       4 – 2      Daegu

 

	P	W	D	L	F	A	Pts	GD
Sangju	24	15	4	5	35	20	49	15
Jeonnam	24	14	5	5	38	28	47	10
Jeonbuk	24	14	3	7	41	19	45	22
Ulsan	24	11	6	7	30	20	39	10
Suwon	24	10	8	6	35	25	38	10
Seoul	24	11	5	8	31	25	38	6
Jeju	23	11	4	8	33	25	37	8
Pohang	24	10	7	7	25	21	37	4
Incheon	24	6	5	13	21	28	23	-7
Gangwon	24	5	7	12	20	33	22	-13
Daegu	24	4	4	16	18	47	16	-29
Gwangju	23	1	4	18	16	52	7	-36

 

[he_2]

Friday 4^th August 2018: Official’s Dressing Room, Munsu Auxiliary Stadium, Ulsan

I gave the players the day off yesterday following their exertions on Wednesday evening against Suwon, however, that’s a decision I began to regret when I got to the ground this morning and found a couple of links to articles from different journalists about the same player, ultimately saying the same thing.

Franco Baldassare had written a piece on Kim Seung-Joo’s unhappiness at the club and lobbied claims of a rift between myself and the player that was threatening to engulf the squad.

Whilst the players had been enjoying a day off with their families or on the golf course (or, seemingly, leaking stories to the press!), I’d been hard at work reviewing our performance on Wednesday, picking out little bits and pieces to outline ahead of Sunday’s visit to our Hyundai-sponsored rivals Jeonbuk and also reviewing in great detail reports and the action from Jeonbuk’s own 1-0 victory over Incheon to formulate a bit of a plan for training today and tomorrow morning, and the tactical briefing tomorrow afternoon.

My Dad was still around, he wasn’t flying home until Monday and so, having been unable to see much of him after the final whistle on Wednesday, invited him back to the ground for a grand tour and took him out for lunch as well.

It was really good to catch up with him properly, I hadn’t really seen him to speak to in a good few months. He was looking well and coping without Mum around to mollycoddle him. It was a huge shock to him when she passed away just before Christmas and it took him a few months to get back on his feet. He won’t admit it, but I know he misses her terribly these days – but he’s keeping himself busy with his lawn bowls and dominoes clubs and getting out and about watching as much football as he can.

I wish I could have spent the entire afternoon with him, but I just had too much to do. A couple of hours would have to suffice for now.

‘You’ll be around for Sunday’s game then, Dad?’ I asked him as we exited the restaurant.

‘Certainly will, son. Certainly will.’ He replied.

‘Why don’t you come with us on the team bus,’ I said. ‘Save you making your own way across a foreign land – travel in a bit of comfort.’

‘Are you sure that’ll be okay?’ He asked cautiously. That’s unusual for the old man, he’s never usually one to look a gift-horse in the gob.

‘Of course it is. It’ll be great to have you along with us.’

He accepted, and I was delighted. It would be good to spend some more time with him on the way to and from the game.

‘Well, then, I’ll give you a ring tomorrow with timings and such like,’ I told him. ‘I’ll see you Sunday?’

‘Sure thing, son.’ He said hesitantly.

‘I have to get going, Dad. Thanks so much for lunch, it was so good to catch up!’ I turned to leave when he called my name out.

‘Paul!’

I turned back and saw him holding a large foolscap brown envelope.

‘I’ve been trying to find an opportunity to give you this,’ he said, holding it out to me. I took it in my hand and noticed that it wasn’t addressed to anyone. ‘I’m really sorry, son, I thought it was for me when it dropped through my door last week so I opened it.’

I stood there for a moment wondering what on earth could be inside. Carefully, I lifted the flap and removed the documents.

‘Did you read them?’

Dad nodded.

‘Only the first paragraph of the top page. Is it from Hattie?’

My turn to nod.

‘Well, her solicitors, anyway.’

‘I’m sorry, son.’

‘It’s okay,’ I shrugged. ‘We all knew it was going to happen sooner or later didn’t we?’ I took a deep breath to compose myself and replaced the paperwork into the envelope.

‘Thanks for these, Dad. Appreciate you bringing them out with you.’

‘Are you going to be okay, son?’

I nodded. ‘I’ve got plenty to be distracting me now, Dad, don’t worry about me.’

And then the rarest thing happened, Dad enveloped me in a big hear hug. In all my time alive, I can’t remember the last time that happened. Not even when I was a kid, not when I signed my first pro contract or picked up my first England cap. I know he was as proud as any father could have been, but he found it so difficult to show how he was feeling.

I choked back a couple of tears as I hugged him back and let him get on his way back to his hotel. I wouldn’t forget that moment for a long long time.

**

Back to this morning, and less than a couple of hours after getting into the office, an hour or so before training begins, all hell breaks loose.

Firstly, I get a phonecall on the company mobile.

‘Hello, Paul Tilletson speaking.’

‘Paul, hello. It’s Lajos Gabor from Goal.com. Is it okay to get a quote from you on something please?’

Oh, Lord spare me, I thought. I remembered the journo from my opening presser.

‘Of course, Lajos. What can I do for you?’

‘Given the stories appearing today in the media, will you be giving into Kim Seung-Joo’s demands and giving him first team football?’

I sighed. Really, we’re doing this before 9am in the morning, are we?

‘Lajos, forgive me here, but I’m not willing to discuss my selection policy now or at any time publicly.’

‘With respect, Paul, the fans will want to know the answer to the question.’

‘And with equal respect, Lajos, they will appreciate why I am not going to discuss that in public. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a training session to prepare for. Thank you for your time.’

With that I ended the call, perhaps slightly more abruptly than I intended to.

Less than ten minutes later, I got a text from Robert, my agent.

‘Cagey, eh? Unlike you Paulie. You’re usually such a ball in a china shop LOL’.

It’s one thing having an agent that thought himself to be something of a Bantersaurus, it’s quite another having one that either can’t distinguish between a ball and a bull, or else can’t bloody well spell!

With the text was a link to an article on Goal.com which had already been posted.

“….and when questions, Ulsan boss, Paul Tilletson, was playing his cards close to his chest refusing to comment on his selection policy. His refusal to clarify the situation is only likely to further inflame matters and lead to questions as to whether or not he knows his best eleven…”

Jeez, what a crock of absolute toss! I deigned not to reply to Robert’s message and had literally just put the phone back on the desk when Lee Ki-Oh popped his head around the door with Kwok.

‘What is it, Ki-Oh?’  I asked.

Through Kwok, Lee explained that Lee Myeong-Jae had been to see him to register his own unhappiness at not being selected on Wednesday evening. I’d chosen to leave the left full-back out of the matchday 16 purely because of the availability issues at the heart of the defence. The player would appreciate it if I could spare some time before training to address the issue, or he could ask Richard Windbichler, the skipper, to have a work with Myeong-Jae.

‘Where is he?’ I asked.

‘In the dressing room across the way getting changed for training.’ Kwok replied.

‘Okay, I’ll be down in ten minutes and will have a word with him. Kwok, can you make sure Myung Jae-Yong is present as well please?’ I switched my attention to the player liaison officer, Lee Ki-Oh. ‘Thanks for bringing the matter to my attention, Ki-Oh. Much appreciated.’

The clock hadn’t yet reached 9:00 and already I felt as though I was fighting a war on multiple flanks. I took off my glasses and began to rub my temples to ease a little bit of the strain. I thought I’d left all of the self-absorbed, spoilt brat players behind in England – I was quickly learning that this was a worldwide epidemic, unfortunately.

**

‘Myeong-Jae, can I have a word please?’ I had walked into the changing room here the boys were all in varying stages of being ready to begin the day’s preparation for Sunday’s trip to Jeonju. Lee Myeong-Jae, who had been looking at a newspaper alongside Lee Sang-Min looked up and nodded. I led him into a much smaller dressing room which was used by match officials for U-23 matches.

Sat down on the benches already were Kwok, and Myung. I began the conversation.

‘I understand that you’re unhappy at being left out of the side on Wednesday, is that right?’

‘Yes. I believe a player of my quality should be getting regular first team football. Being left out of the team on Wednesday worries me.’

Crikey, hark at him! I thought as his words were translated. I was used to people having an overinflated view of themselves, of course, they were 10-a-penny at most clubs. Still, the idea of being so bloody cocksure was totally alien to me.

‘Listen, I have my reasons for not selecting you on Wednesday, but there’s a lot of football to be played between now and the end of the season. You will get a chance.’ I tell him.

There was a sigh of frustration.

‘How can you sit there and ask me to be patient?’ he asked. ‘I need to be playing or my career is going to come to a halt. If you aren’t going to provide me with regular football, then I need to be leaving.’

Good grief, this was in danger of escalating quickly! I found it quite frankly pretty astonishing that having been left out for one match, having been a regular up until that point, that there was talk coming out all of a sudden of careers grinding to a halt. Still, I wasn’t going to be cowed in my opinion.

‘Look, Myeong-Jae, I really don’t want to lose you, I can see already how valuable a player you are. But I simply cannot just brazenly guarantee players regular matches. Get your head down in training and show me that I’m wrong to have left you out on Wednesday and you will get your chance!’

The player was getting a little agitated as my words were translated and eventually, he suddenly stood up.

‘This is ********,’ he said, throwing his hands up in the air. ‘I’m going to leave this here because I can tell your mind is made up about me!’ And with that, he opened the door and stormed out.

Bloody hell, this was tougher than dealing with children! I’d been in the job less than a fortnight and already I felt as though I had aged a decade.

It wasn’t over though.

Ten minutes later, as I was getting changed in the official’s dressing room to go out and take training, there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in!’

The door opened and showed a gaggle of players. I counted them in – Park Sung-Ho, Kim Seung_Joo, Lee Ji-Hun, Jang Seong-Jae, Han Seung-Gyu, Lee Sang-Heon and Jeong Hyeon-Cheol -seven in total. And the ever-faithful Kwok, bringing up the rear.

‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’

Park Sung-Ho took on the role of spokesman.

‘We all think that Lee Myeong-Jae deserves to be a regular part of the team and we feel the way you dismissed his concerns showed poor man-management. It’s a real worry that you’d treat a team-mate of ours like that.’

Oh, good GOD! GIVE ME STRENGTH!ll

‘Right,’ I began. ‘Let’s nip this in the bud now, shall we? Firstly, I am the manager and I select the team. That is based on who I think will best get us to three points and who I think deserves to play based on performance, attitude and application. Right now, we are on a great run and I don’t want to be unnecessarily disrupting a winning team to accommodate an unhappy player. Okay?! All I have said to Myeong-Jae is that he will need to be patient but his time will come.’

Park Sung-Ho and Jeong Hyeon-Cheol look at each-other and nod. ‘That makes sense, boss, it doesn’t make sense to mess with a winning formula.’

Kim Seung-Joo takes up the running on his team-mates behalf now after not being placated by my words. ‘If anything, bringing Myeong-Jae into the side will power us up even more.’

‘Look, boys. I’m not going to sit here and discuss this any further. We have a game to prepare for and I propose that we draw a line under this and do just that. I appreciate your loyalty to your team-mate, that’s to be admired. But, I don’t know if this is all just a little test of my authority early on or not, but enough is enough. I will pick the team and I will not be dictated to by a group of players. Understood?’

They stand there, largely silent, looking at their boots before Jang Seong-Jae pipes up.

‘That’s easy for you to say, boss. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to concentrate on my football now knowing this is how my manager deals with issues. I’ve lost respect for you, I’m afraid, over this.’

‘Well, I’m not looking to win any popularity contests,’ I state. ‘I’m looking to win football matches and you boys can either be a part of it or not. Up to you. Okay?’ I look at my watch. ‘Time to get going. Anyone not on that training pitch in the next 2 minutes gets fined. Go!’

They file out, and I know I probably haven’t done much to improve my standing amongst this set of players. Perhaps I could have handled things a little better, a little differently, but the overriding point remains – I am not going to be dictated to by an individual or a group of players over team selection. Ever.

Time to get out onto that bloody training pitch and finally concentrate on football!

[he_2]

Matchday 2

Sunday 6th August 2017

KEB Hanabank K-League Classic

Jeonbuk Hyundai Motors v Ulsan Hyundai

World Cup Stadium, Jeonju

19:00 kick off

My second match in charge of Ulsan has taken us to Jeonju and another purpose-built stadium for the 2002 World Cup. Although on the fringes of the England squad at that time, it wasn’t until the following year that I made my international debut – the first of a number of matches in friendlies and qualifiers – I never made an appearance at a major tournament. But then, as disappointing as that was, neither did George Best, Ryan Giggs, George Weah or Nigel Spink, so I could consider myself in decent company.

This fixture, for some reason, wasn’t known within Korean circles as the Hyundai Derby in spite of the giant car-makers being involved with both clubs. Indeed, it was surprising that there wasn’t a conflict of interest somewhere. But, with the two sides being completely independent, any rivalry was quite ‘amica’-ble with the ‘accent’ firmly on taking three points, on this occasion at least, and hopefully reduce the gap between us in 7^th and them in 3^rd. We had dropped three places following last night’s results which saw emphatic away wins for Seoul, Jeju and Suwon.

We travelled up to Jeonju yesterday and stayed overnight at the Ramada, Dad sat with me on the coach and we caught up more easily than we probably had since I was a kid. It really feels like the emotional distance is diminishing as our physical distance has increased by a mammoth amount. He’s now up in the director’s box with Kim Jung-Soo, who had kindly taken the old fella under his wing this evening.

The boys are going through the motions before the game, I’ve made a couple of changes to the side. Firstly, I’ve changed the shape to the 4-2-3-1 that we looked so dangerous with in the final forty minutes on Wednesday night and brought in Lee Jong-Ho for Jeong Jae-Yong. Lee starts on the left-flank having created a couple of goals against Suwon, and Mislav Orsic will play off Junior Negao in the ‘hole’.

The other change is at the back with Kang Min-Soo back from suspension, so replacing Lee Sang-Min who drops to the bench. Richard Windbichler is still some way from fitness so misses out, whilst Jeong Hyeon-Cheol continues up front and 19-year old Moon Jung-In comes onto the bench in place of the incapacitated previous substitute goalkeeper Oh Seung-Hoon.

I think the decision to go with the more attacking shape took some of the squad aback, however I was keen for us to maintain the tempo from the second half of Wednesday’s match and take the game to our opponents. I suppose it might be seen as a risky strategy, however I was seeing it as a vote of confidence in my player’s ability.

The eleven, just taking their places for the start of the game, then:

Jeong Hyeon-Cheol, Kim Chang-Soo, Lim Jong-Eun, Kang Min-Soo, Park Joo-Ho, Farhad Esmaeili, Han Seung-Gyu, Kim In-Sung, Mislav Orsic, Lee Jong-Ho, Junior Negao

Kick-off: Jeonbuk Hyundai Motors v Ulsan Hyundai

80 seconds in and my best laid plans are very nearly in tatters. The ball is worked forward to Lee Jae-Sung inside out penalty area and his square ball is finished supremely by Jeonbuk’s 38-year old former Middlesbrough striker Lee Dong-Gook from about 12 yards out. The veteran wheels off to celebrate in front of the fans behind Jeong Hyeon-Cheol’s goal and I’m about to launch a water bottle into the turf in frustration. Just before I release the bottle, I notice the assistant’s flag is up. The referee glances across, the whistle goes and his left hand goes up, rather than pointing to the centre-spot. He’s ruled it out! JFC, what a let-off!

I’m onto the edge of my technical area and urging the players to wake up and concentrate. That was very nearly a start of the most shocking imaginable proportions.

Into the 8^th minute and a free-kick into the penalty area isn’t properly cleared, Lee Dong-Gook is denied a shot at goal by a superbly judged Kang Min-Soo challenge just inside the box and as the ball breaks for Lee Jae-Sung, the Jeonbuk winger unleashes an arrowed drive that flashes narrowly over the angle of post and bar. Jeong Hyeon-Cheol could only wave at it as it passed him.

‘Christ, this isn’t good,’ I state quite obviously to Myung has Hyeon-Cheol readies the goal-kick. ‘We’re too open. Can you get a message passed on to get them to sit five yards deeper and look to hit on the counter?’

He can, and he does, passing the message onto right-back Kim Chang-Soo, who organises things with his team-mates.

We settle down, begin to compete, begin to win some of the 50-50 challenges and string together some passes. Yet things are largely scrappy and the two sides are cancelling eachother out.

As the half approaches the mid-way point a long ball forward is picked up inside his own penalty area by Lim Jong-Eun. Under a little pressure from Lee Dong-Gook, Lim plays a nice ball down the right flank to Kim Chang-Soo. A simple ball infield for Farhad Esmaeili and then out to the flank just in front of me for Kim In-Sung.

‘Have a run!’ I shout, as the right-winger is one-on-one against his full-back, instead he turns it inside to Mislav Orsic just inside our own half. Junior Negao is hanging on the shoulder of the last defender, twenty yards or so upfield, but as Orsic crosses the halfway line he knocks a super 30-yard pass out wide for Lee Jong-Ho who has come off the left flank and found himself without an opponent within fifteen yards of him. He’s a delight at finding space. Jong-Ho has Park Joo-Ho outside him on the overlap and the obvious pass is to slip the marauding left-back in to swing a cross in, instead he notices Negao getting just in-front of his marker getting into the penalty area.

Lee Jong-Ho slips the ball into the path of the centre-forward, and first time, Negao fires a rising left footed strike from about 16-yards that flies into the roof of the net beyond Hwang Byung-Keun in the Jeonbuk goal to give us an unlikely lead.

The 700 or so Ulsan fans behind the goal celebrate wildly whilst the home fans have been shocked into silence. A clench of the fists from me and another call to the players to make sure they’re concentrating, no histrionics required on this occasion. A long way to go yet.

We do well in the remainder of the half and look a lot more in control than we did in the first ten minutes. The wind has been taken out of Jeonbuk’s sails and as the half-time whistle goes, there’s barely a murmur of appreciation from the home faithful.

Half Time: Jeonbuk Hyundai Motors 0-1 Ulsan Hyundai

The atmosphere in the dressing room at the break is far more positive than it had been Wednesday night. There doesn’t appear to be any overconfidence from the boys, which is good, but there are a couple of things that I think need to be addressing. Waiting for them to get their drinks and sit down, I begin.

‘Crap start, that, wasn’t it? My fault, I take responsibility for setting you up wrong. Much better after that first ten minutes and looked the better side after the goal. After the break, they’re going to come at us. Soak up the pressure and then look after the ball when you have it. There will be gaps to exploit, so look to hit the wingers in particular as and when you can. Well done, lads. Keep going and we’ll be three points closer to them.’ I point at the dressing room next door. ‘They’ll be getting a shelling from their coach right now and will probably have all guns blazing. Stay compact for the first 15 minutes, take the sting out of the game and then exploit their tiredness. Okay?’

Following the interpretation, there are nods and claps and satisfied murmurs.

‘Anything to add?’ I ask Myung.

My assistant adds just a couple of details, around letting Lee Dong-Gook win the first header when the ball goes long into him and smothering the second balls, we’re not likely to win much in the air against him – and also for Kim Chang-Soo to show Lee Jae-Sung down the line rather than inside. Although the Jeonbuk left winger is all left-foot, he much prefers coming inside than going on the outside and being asked to whip a cross in. He hasn’t got the pace for that.

Before the buzzer goes I ask Farhad Esmaeili and Han Seung-Gyu for a quick word.

‘Gents, their two central midfielders are sitting very deep and just shielding their back four. They aren’t breaking forward and are relying on direct balls into Lee Dong-Gook. This gives you an opportunity to find a little more space and really dictate the play. Interchange with eachother, look to bring the full-backs into play when we have possession. Okay?’

More nods.

The buzzer goes and I wait by the door to give each of the guys an encouraging word or pat on their way out. Before I follow, I need the loo.

Second Half: Jeonbuk Hyundai Motors 0-1 Ulsan Hyundai

I miss the first minute or so of the second period but am out in time to watch us produce a beautiful move comprising 11 passes that took us from the edge our own penalty area into the Jeonbuk 18-yard box.

Kim Chang-Soo takes a throw-in level with the edge of our penalty area on the far-side, our right. He throws it infield for Orsic, who returns the ball to the right-back. Chang-Soo knocks it left to Lim Jong-Eun on the edge of the penalty area and the elegant centre half plays a lovely ball 30-yards forward to find Kim In-Sung ten yards inside his own half.

In-Sung performs a step-over and then feints to go outside his man, but instead sweeps the ball into the Jeonbuk half for Negao to collect, he takes a touch and knocks it back right for In-Sung who has dropped off his full-back to create an extra few yards of space. Kim In-Sung plays it left for Esmaeili who immediately shuffles possession onto Han Seung-Gyu now making progress inside the opposition half.

He sprints forward fifteen yards into space and plays a neat little pass around the corner for Negao. Negao, 25-yards from goal turns and plays a delicious little reverse pass inside the Jeonbuk left-back for Kim In-Sung to gallop into, he has a great opportunity to shoot on the angle but instead squares the ball for Orsic, who is in space about 16 yards out. The Croatian hits his effort first time but directs it straight at Hwang Byung-Keon in the Jeonbuk goal. A sparkling move that deserved better than the finish it received. Still, I was hugely encouraged and am off the bench showing my appreciation.

A quarter of an hour into the second period I make the first change. We’re playing well, but I want to see a little more quality in midfield. Han Seung-Gyu is the man to come on and is replaced by Lee Myeong-Jae, the cause of so much hassle on Friday. He’s not coming on because I had my hand forced, he’s coming on because after causing such a stink, he actually knuckled down impressively in training on Friday and yesterday morning. I give him a little word of encouragement and as he moves to left-back, Park Joo-Ho moves into the heart of midfield.

Three minutes later, a free kick on the right-hand side is swung dangerously into the penalty area by Orsic and Esmaeili gets up well to direct a header on target. Although with plenty of power, it lacked direction again and Hwang Byung-Keon is able to make another comfortable save.

A couple of dangerous looking home set pieces are well repelled by Kang Min-Soo, it’s clear that his organisational and aerial ability at set pieces is a big part as to why our defensive record is the best in the division, and with 20 minutes remaining he plays a key part for us offensively as well.

Park Joo-Ho dispossesses Kim Shin-Wook ten yards inside our half and plays the ball back to Lee Myeong-Jae. The substitute exchanges a couple of passes with Kang Min-Soo before the centre half plays a sumptuous long ball forward to release Lee Jong-Ho who has peeled off and behind Jeonbuk’s right back and gone scampering into the left-edge of the penalty area. He gets to the by-line, looks up and sees that Junior Negao has lost his marker by halting his run across the near post and hanging back just outside the six-yard box. The cross is stood up left footed and Negao is able to direct a header back past Hwang Byung-Keon and inside the far post to double our lead.

A classic piece of counter-attacking football that owed a lot to the vision of Kang Min-Soo, the movement and ability to find space of Lee Jong-Ho and the finishing of Junior Negao.

As I stood at the edge of my technical area applauding, I marvelled at how this performance, that had begun in such a slipshod manner was now turning into the perfect away showing.

Before the game restarts, I replace Farhad Esmaeili with a precocious 19-year old midfielder Lee Sang-Heon. The coaching staff have been waxing lyrical about this boy and his performances in training have belied his years. I really want to see him in real action and so, telling him to relax and enjoy the game, give him twenty minutes to show me what he can do.

Three minutes after the second goal and we are given a wake-up call. Han Kyo-Won gets onto a long goal-kick down the right for Jeonbuk and has space to pick out a cross. Kim Shin-Wook wins the header and sends it down into the turf and agonisingly no more than 6 inches the wrong side of the far post. Jeong Hyeon-Cheol is struggling but may just have had his far post covered. Thankfully, we don’t need to find out whether or not that is the case.

‘Get them to tighten up again!’ I instruct Myung as I turn away from the action in frustration.

He does and they do and the final seventeen minutes are played out without any scare at either end. Lee Jong-Ho sent a free kick narrowly over the angle in stoppage time, but apart from that, when the referee brings proceedings to a conclusion, aside from the first ten minutes, I am able to look back satisfactorily over a highly efficient and well deserved three points.

Full Time: Jeonbuk Hyundai Motors 0-2 Ulsan Hyundai

As I take the magnanimous congratulations from my opposite number Choi Kang-Hee and shepherd the players to the end where our 700 or so hardy and loyal souls have been unwavering in their support, I realised that we are now well within touching distance of our opponents. Just three points behind and one would have thought, striking something of a psychological blow as well.

For us, five wins on the bounce, four of which had come with clean sheets. Where a month ago Champions League qualification was beginning to look like nothing more than a pipe dream, it’s very much back on the menu once again. There’s still a heck of a long way to go – thirteen more matches and 39 points to play for.

The players and I give the fans a well-deserved ovation for the just as deserved ovation they’ve given us. As we turn to go back towards the tunnel I look up into the director’s box and see my old man deep in animated conversation with Kim Jung-Soo. Something about their body language tells me that they were both pretty content with what they’d just seen.

So was I, to say the least.

[he_2]

Results and Table

Saturday 5^th August 2017

Daegu                  0 – 3      Seoul

Gwangju              2 – 4      Suwon

Incheon               0 – 3      Jeju

Sunday 6^th August 2017

Jeonbuk               0 – 2      Ulsan

Pohang                2 – 0      Jeonnam

Sangju                  0 – 3      Gwangju

 

	P	W	D	L	F	A	Pts	GD
Sangju	25	15	4	6	35	23	49	12
Jeonnam	25	14	5	6	38	30	47	8
Jeonbuk	25	14	3	8	41	21	45	20
Ulsan	25	12	6	7	32	20	42	12
Suwon	25	11	8	6	39	27	41	12
Seoul	25	12	5	8	34	25	41	9
Jeju	24	12	4	8	36	25	40	11
Pohang	25	11	7	7	27	21	40	6
Incheon	25	6	5	14	21	31	23	-10
Gangwon	25	5	7	13	22	37	22	-15
Daegu	25	4	4	17	18	50	16	-32
Gwangju	24	2	4	18	19	52	10	-33

 

It had been quite an exciting weekend. Goals galore, five out of six wins falling to sides on the road and the title race being blown wide open by Sangju’s 3-0 home mauling at the hands of Gwangju who had previously won just 1 of their first 23 league matches of the season – and our next opponents, Pohang, beating second placed Jeonnam 2-0.

Our own win had propelled us back up the 4^th, although things are ridiculously close with just 2 points separating us and Pohang in 8^th. Another 3 points next week to try and extend that gap is an absolute must.

[he_2]

Saturday 12^th August 2017: Suite 307, Hyundai Hotel, Ulsan

The week has flown by in an instant. Thankfully, there was none of the drama that I saw at the end of last week and no nasty surprises, instead we’ve been able to focus fully on the task in-hand, namely preparing for the Donghaean derby against our most local of rivals, Pohang Steelers – previously known as Pohang Steelworks. Another former works team and historically, one of the most successful in Asia with a record three Champions League titles to their name.

This season, like many since their last domestic League Title in 2009 has been one of comparative disappointment. Although we go into the game just two points ahead of our local rivals, they sit in a lowly 8^th position. Such is the crazy points distribution in this season’s league that 17 points separate them from the side below them, Incheon. Think the Premier League top 6 vs everyone else and that’s what you have here – only the K-League top 8 vs the bottom 4. It’s certainly competitive and keeps the competition interesting for supporters.

Jeonbuk, who have won five of the past 9 titles (and finished runners-up on another two occasions), look to be on the wane a little this term with the previously unheralded Jeonnam (a single K-League runners-up spot to their name) and Sangju (never been near the title) making the running at the top of the table. Jeonbuk can’t be ruled out, of course, and have the advantage of recent experience of winning the title, however our victory in Jeonju last week put a hefty dent in their title aspirations.

Another dent was received this evening as they lost 4-2 in a thrilling match against Jeonnam, a game that I’ve just finished watching whilst studying some of my Korean homework. Kwok’s wife is an English teacher in a local college and has been paid a retainer by the club to help give me a leg-up with the Korean language. Jeonbuk’s defeat along with Sangju picking up another point means they are now five points off the pace. Not only that, but if we can beat Pohang tomorrow, we go level on points with them and really begin to breathe our fiery wares down the back of their necks. Not only that, but three points would see us leapfrog Suwon again after their 2-1 win over Seoul had seen them overtake us and head into 4th place again. Plenty to play for tomorrow evening, then.

The story of Sangju Sangmu FC is worth touching on briefly as there is nothing of their kind anywhere in the English pyramid. Indeed, it’s not the kind of side you’d be likely to see anywhere in Western Europe – more the sort of thing you’d expect to have seen on the other side of the Iron Curtain during the Cold War.

Sangmu is the sports division of the South Korean Military. Every young man in South Korea has to serve two years compulsory national service in the military. Each season, fifteen professional footballers are signed by Sangmu for a two-year period in which they compete in the Korean league system and serve their time in the services. At the end of their two years, the players return to their parent clubs. They are not permitted to sign any foreign players or any Korean players that are not serving with the military.

Until 2010, the club were situated in Gwangju, however with the formation of an independent club in the city for the 2011 season, Sangmu moved to Sangju and changed their name. Although relatively regular competitors in the K-League’s top division, their previous best finish was 6^th in 2015. What they are achieving this season is like Leicester City (loathed as I am to use that comparison once again), only with an Under-23 squad and comprised of players only born in the city of Leicester. It’s quite astonishing and has taken Korean football by storm.

CSKA Sangmu, effectively.

Such was the excitement of the game (something I’ve noticed so far is how committed to attack teams appear to be, even those at the bottom end of the table – it’s highly refreshing after being overfed on the likes of West Brom against Stoke and Swansea versus Newcastle) that I didn’t actually get very far with my revision of the pronunciation of common foodstuffs in Korean. However, with my next lesson not due until Monday evening, I had time to crack on with that after I’d gotten tomorrow’s derby out of the way. Thankfully, I’d get fed at the ground so wouldn’t be reliant on the universal (and entirely filthy) language of McDonalds for sustenance tomorrow!

As I said, the week had been refreshing insofar as being able to fully concentrate on preparing for tomorrow’s match. There were a few pieces in the sports pages and on blogs about Lee Myeung-Jae and Kim Seung-Joo wanting out of the club, but it’s got to be said that in training this week, both have been absolutely spot on – both attitude-wise and in performance.

Another to impress has been Park Sung-Ho. He began the week by seeking me out just before the first training session of the week with Myung, this time, to act as interpreter.

‘Boss, I just wanted to say that I am no longer unhappy with my role at the club.’ He said. ‘After you brought me on at the weekend and with Negrao in form, I understand your reasons for what you said.’

I’d only given him the final 90 seconds on Sunday to give Junior the chance to take the deserved acclaim from the away support following his match-winning two goal salvo. I wasn’t going to tell Park that right now though.

‘I appreciate that Sung-Ho. You do have role at the club between now and the end of the season and although that may not necessarily mean as many starts as you might like, rest assured that you are as important to my plans as Junior or anyone else who has started either game so far.’

The veteran striker nods and offers me his hand to shake. I accept and bow.

‘We can still review your position at the end of the season and if you feel you need to move on, I won’t stand in your way,’ I tell him. ‘Thank you, though, for letting me know where you feel you stand. I appreciate it.’

He trotted off to join his team-mates and there was a noticeable improvement in his demeanour.

‘What’s brought this on?’ I asked Myung as we walked across the training pitch to begin the warm-up.

‘I think it’s the fact that you used him as a like-for-like replacement on Sunday, not choosing someone who is mainly a wide player to replace Junior.’ My assistant explained.

‘And a minute and a half was enough to convince him?’

’Sometimes, even the smallest of actions can speak much louder than any words.’ Myung replied with a knowing chuckle. Unlikely philosophy from my number 2.

**

It’s nearing midnight and sleep feels as far away as ever. This time last week I was agonising over team selections and whether I’d dealt with the wantaway player situations appropriately both privately and when broaching the subject in the press.

This week, things are so much more settled. The two unhappy souls, although not placated, haven’t been upsetting the applecart and the gentlemen of the press this afternoon were much more interested in discussing the local rivalry and my thoughts on my opposite number, Choi Soon-Ho and his style of play. With the local rivalry and the fact that neither side has experienced much in the way of success in recent years, there were definitely one or two attempts to try and introduce some niggle into proceedings. Of course, that’s what vultures try and do when there’s no story to be had – engineer one. I’ve had my dealings with the likes of Martin Samuel, Neil Custis and other such nefarious individuals in my time as a player, so I know only too well how they work. I learned long ago to keep my answers specific, unambiguous and concise to allow the vultures no room to pick at the bones of my words.

The team selection was simple as well. Given the quality of the performance at Jeonbuk last week, it would be the same 18-man squad, final fitness permitting tomorrow evening at the Munsu. We went over a couple of minor tactical tweaks after training this afternoon in the briefing – namely looking to use the width of the pitch whilst in possession better than we had done in our opening two matches and, linked to this, getting the full-backs forward in support of the wide attackers better on the overlap. Kim Il-Soo, in his comments on Pohang, alluded to the fact that he expected them to sit quite deep and look to hit us over the top on the break. We would need to remain patient and work the ball quickly, with the use of the overlap to isolate full-backs where possible to create chances.

It all felt good. I felt good. I even felt unusually confident. Not of three points so much as the quality of the preparation felt right. There were no other distractions as there had been overshadowing things last week. Yet, in spite of that, sleep remained an elusive bedfellow.

Perhaps there was only one thing for it. I could have Skyped Dad or my sister, Pip, who my old man had asked me to get in touch with more just before he left on Monday. But, screen time wouldn’t help me get to sleep.

With a deep sigh of reluctance, I padded over to my desk and picked up my A4 pad and text book to take back to bed with me. Laying down and settling under the lush puffy duvet, I opened the text book, removed the top from my pen and began to write – reciting under my breath as I did so.

빵

Bread – bbang

[he_2]

Matchday 3

Sunday 13th August 2017

KEB Hanabank K-League Classic

Ulsan Hyundai v Pohang Steelers

Munsu Stadium, Ulsan

19:00 kick off

I look up at the stadium clock and see that there are just ten minutes left to play. Ten minutes left to play plus whatever the referee deems requisite to be added on. It’s a fairly cool evening, quite blustery even inside this purpose-built bowl but I’m feeling increasingly sticky.

The game is goalless even though we’ve been well on top for large periods. We’ve dominated the ball, we’ve dominated territory, we’ve spent much of the evening peppering shots at Kang Hyun-Moo’s goal and yet we haven’t scored.

I loosen my tie a little more, undo the top button and pace back across my technical area for the umpteenth time in the past seven or eight minutes. It was at that point that I made a bit of a gamble bringing on Park Sung-Ho for Mislav Orsic and sticking him up front alongside Junior Negao. We were effectively playing a 4-2-4 now and I was certainly not holding anything back in terms of searching for that elusive opening goal.

The ball’s gone out of play on the far side after another cross into the box was snuffed out by the visitors. Lee Myeong-Jae ambles over to take it, I look up at the clock again, 18 seconds it’s taken. Come on, I say to myself under my breath, let’s have a bit more urgency. He throws it in to Lee Jong-Ho, who shuffles it forward to Park Joo-Ho – he’s been shifted into midfield alongside Farshid Esmaeili. The former Dortmund man plays it square across the face of the penalty area to Kim In-Sung and the winger, now in centre-field turns one way and then the other before feeding the ball into Esmaeili with a neat little flick – the Iranian is inside the penalty area and finds room to bend a shot towards the far post, but Kang Hyun-Moo is able to fall to his left and hold on comfortably.

‘Unlucky, Farshi!’ I call, clapping my hands and almost dancing along the technical area now following the play. Every kick, every pass, every tackle, I am right there with the players, urging them on to find that extra 1 or 2 % that I hoped would bring us a goal.

The crowd are still behind us, none of my anxiety has translated to them and thankfully none onto the pitch. Although we’ve been on top, we haven’t been as good as we were in the second half against Suwon or during the 90 last week at Jeonbuk.

Kang makes full use of his six-second allowance before clearing the ball downfield, over the halfway line. I sit down briefly, take a sip from a water bottle as Chico takes the ball down neatly in the inside left channel. He takes a couple of touches and waits for support, Lim Jong-Eun is quickly snapping at his heels and to be honest, looks as though he clips the Pohang man. The man whose opinion matters doesn’t agree with me and I’m not complaining as Lim finds Kim In-Sung. Kim’s pass prompts me straight off the bench again in an agitated fashion as he chooses to try a Hollywood through ball for Negao, which is easily cut-out by Bae Seul-Ki rather than a simple 8-yard ball into Park Sung-Ho’s feet.

‘Keep it f*cking simple, will you?!’ I scream.

I turn to Myung. ‘Tell him to keep it f*cking simple. What’s he knocking an aimless ball forward like that for when he’s got Park right in front of him?!’

Myung, faithful lieutenant that he is has a quieter and more measured word in Kim In-Sung’s direction and the winger acknowledges.

The ball is worked back to Kang Hyun-Moo and Negao chases him down. The long clearance downfield sees Lee Myeong-Jae challenge Lee Sang-Ki in the air, but the Pohang man is able to direct the header back into the centre circle for Choi Sung-Geun. One touch to control and then a neat pass into our half for Park Yi-Young – another look at the clock, it’s about to flip across to 81 minutes – however, his attempted Hollywood ball out to the right flank for Lee Sang-Ki is misdirected and overhit and out of play for a throw-in deep in our left-back area.

I’m totally unable to stand still, pacing from one end of the technical area to the other. Arms folded, arms unfolded. Watching the action, looking at the floor when the ball goes out of play. Mind whirring, in absolute overdrive. What else can I possibly do to influence the outcome of the game? I glance at my remaining substitutes. I have one more I can use yet no-one there screams ‘game-changer’ at me. There’s no point making a like-for-like change at this stage in proceedings, I need one that’s going to affect the game.

Lee Myeong-Jae takes another 18 seconds to get the ball back into play. 18 long, precious seconds. At least he’s consistent, I thought. Rather than working the line, he throws it in-field for Kang Min-Soo and he plays it back to the goalkeeper, Jeong Hyeon-Cheol. A low pass to the edge of the penalty area to Lim Jong-Eun, there’s no pressure on him at all.

‘Carry it!’ I implore, gesturing at him to attack the space in front of him.

Instead, he plays it fifteen yards into the feet of Esmaeili, who has time to turn and sweep a nice looking ball for Kim In-Sung, just inside the Pohang half. This time a more sensible touch from the winger, cushioning it down for Park Sung-Ho just in-front of me.

‘Better!’ I yell. ‘Much better!’

Park Sung-Ho returns the pass to Kim In-Sung tempting the Pohang left-back in-field and now giving Kim the chance to attack the line. I urge him on, but instead of looking to get towards the by-line, he looks to swing an early ball into the box which is cut out by Choi Sung-Geun ahead of Park Sung-Ho. I fling my arms up in the air in frustration as the move breaks down and Pohang are able to build with a string of passes in their own half.

‘Get up! Come on, get higher!’ I want a higher press to win the ball back as early as possible. Gwon Wan-Gyu is able to bring the ball over halfway unchallenged on the far side and send a nice ball into the path of Lee Sang-Ki. With Lee Myeong-Jae out of position, the Pohang winger looks to go outside Kang Min-Soo, however the centre-half does well to stand up and match his opponent in the foot-race, blocking the attempted cross. He then shows great desire to chase onto the loose ball fifteen yards up-field and let Lee Jong-Ho. His pass finds Negao, just inside Pohang territory and he holds the ball up with two opponents shielding him from turning.

‘Keep the ball, Junior!’ I shout, even though I know its to little avail. He’s 80 yards away and the atmosphere in the stadium, although only a quarter full, is quite deafening.

Negao goes backwards, but only so that we can once again go forwards – the eventual final ball forward from Lee Jong-Ho finds Negao galloping into the left edge of the penalty area but he doesn’t have the legs of Bae Seul-Ki and the ball ends up going out of play for a throw-in deep in Pohang territory.

22 seconds pass this time before the ball is thrown back into play this time.

‘Jeez. Can’t you have a f*cking word with him and get him to hurry the f*ck up?’ I implore in Myung’s general direction. ‘Why’s he meandering across as if he’s about to feed the ducks?’

Myung nods, but realises I’m largely being rhetorical and that it’s the tension talking. Negao receives the throw-in on his chest and is brought down a couple of yards outside the left corner of the penalty area by Park Yi-Young. The official has his yellow card out immediately and we have an opportunity to get a good quality ball into the danger area.

There’s no Orsic to take this one, he’s on the bench so Farshid Esmaeili looks to swing the ball in right-footed. The delivery is a good one, but Negao is beaten to the header. Park Joo-Ho picks up possession just outside the penalty area and drives into it at pace. He unleashes a left footed strike which might have been heading just inside Kang Hyun-Moo’s near post but the goalkeeper takes no chances either way and at full stretch to his right, gets a strong hand to the ball to send it behind for a corner.

Another chance has gone begging. Another good chance. But I clap and I encourage and I clench my fists and I clench my jaw. I don’t allow my increasing frustration to manifest. I don’t allow the anxiety to boil over.

What does the clock say? I glance up. 83:09. Still time, not a lot, but still time.

Park Joo-Ho shows more urgency in getting a ball from the ball-boys and placing it in the quadrant.

‘Good delivery!’ I shout, again as much for my own benefit as anyone else’s.

It’s not a good delivery, though. Park Yi-Young gets an unchallenged header on the ball however the direction isn’t good. Esmaeili somehow finds a couple of yards of space to take it down on his instep and then lay it back for Lee Jong-Ho. There are red shirted players hurtling towards our top scorer and so he has to hurry his shot a little.

The defenders have done enough. Although Kang Hyun-Moo feels the need to dive, the ball goes a good three feet over the crossbar and into the crowd.

Another one created, another one spurned. We are so far on top right now. Just. Need. That. Bloody. Goal!

Kang is in absolutely no hurry to get things restarted – I can hardly moan at the officials given some of my own players’ propensity to dilly-dally when getting the action back underway.

When the Pohang goalkeeper does launch the ball downfield, it’s aimless. Lee Myeong-Jae plays a nice first-time ball under no pressure down the left-flank for Lee Jong-Ho and he works it inside for Esmaeili. The Iranian midfielder drives forward and is caught as he played a raking ball out to the right flank for Kim In-Sung. This time the winger does drive to the by-line and his low cross finds Park Sung-Ho at the near post. A good first touch, but he’s unable to swivel on his second as Alemao nips in behind him to take the ball off him and get it clear.

Not far, though, only as far as Kim Chang-Soo who plays it in-field left-footed for Esmaeili – Pohang have 10 men behind the ball, it’s so tightly packed in there – but Esmaeili is able to work it wide for Kim In-Sung again. Another cross towards the near post but again Alemao gets the better of Park Sung-Ho.

‘Come on, get in front of him!’ I implore.

Esmaeili picks up possession yet is going away from goal as he has his ankle taken just outside the penalty area.

It’s Park Yi-Young with the mindless challenge only 90 seconds after going into the book for the foul on Negao.

The official isn’t in forgiving mood, the yellow card is out – followed by the red. Park Yi-Young can’t believe it. He’s got to go though, and go he does, eventually, trudging off with the mocking jeers of the home fans ringing in his ears.

‘Christ, if we can’t make the most of this manpower advantage now,’ I say, turning to Myung, ‘we deserve absolutely nothing from today.’

It takes the best part of a minute for order to be restored. I’m more relaxed about this as any self-respecting official will add this time on at the end of the game.  

Yet another nervous glance up at the clock. 85:33. We aren’t quite in the last chance saloon, but we can see the sign, swinging in the blustery wind not all that far away.

Park Joo-Ho takes the free kick. He could have a pop at goal if he was so minded but with the chance to overload the penalty area he wisely clips it into the ‘mixer’. Esmaeili rises and misses completely, the ball falls for Kang Min-Soo who thumps a half-volley goal-wards. The goalkeeper makes a brilliant reaction block and the ball falls for Lee Jong Ho, just inside the six-yard box. It’s on his left foot, he strikes it first time – Kang Hyun-Moo is beaten, the ball’s beyond him and the net bulges!

‘GOALLLLL!!!!’ I scream, leaping into the air and punching it wildly with clenched fists. A whole fit of angst and tension being released in the most primal of screams imaginable. The Pohang players can’t believe it, Kang Hyun-Moo is distraught, flat-out on his back. A crowd of Ulsan players celebrate with the fans behind the goal and the bench to a man is on their feet celebrating.

My god, it’s not more than we deserve on the balance of play and that last five and a half minutes has absolutely shot by. Those chances, those mis-placed passes, those opportunities to create more that were snuffed out went by in the blink of an eye. And yet, I feel as though I’ve aged half a dozen years in that time as well.

****ing yes! Get in!

Four and a half minutes plus whatever stoppage time is deemed requisite by the referee. Four and a half long, tortuous minutes separating me and my players from a third straight win to christen my managerial career.

The longest four and a half minutes of my career so far.

Full Time: Ulsan Hyundai 1-0 Pohang Steelers

[he_2]

Results and Table

Saturday 12^th August

Jeonnam              4 – 2      Jeonbuk

Sangju                  0 – 0      Incheon

Suwon                  2 – 1      Seoul

Sunday 13^th August

Gangwon             1 – 3      Jeju

Gwangju              4 – 1      Daegu

Ulsan                    1 – 0      Pohang

 

	P	W	D	L	F	A	Pts	GD
Jeonnam	26	15	5	6	42	32	50	10
Sangju	26	15	5	6	35	23	50	12
Jeonbuk	26	14	3	9	43	25	45	18
Ulsan	26	13	6	7	33	20	45	13
Suwon	26	12	8	6	41	28	44	13
Jeju	25	13	4	8	39	26	43	13
Seoul	26	12	5	9	35	27	41	8
Pohang	26	11	7	8	27	22	40	5
Incheon	26	6	6	14	21	31	24	-10
Gangwon	26	5	7	14	23	40	22	-17
Daegu	26	4	4	18	19	54	16	-35
Gwangju	25	3	4	18	23	53	13	-30

 

Our win had taken us back up into the play-off spot for a Champions League spot and had also drawn us level on points with Jeonbuk in 3^rd spot. Not only that, we were now only five points off the pace-setters and were on an overall run of six straight wins.

Jeonnam’s win over Jeonbuk strengthens their own title credentials whilst Sangju’s tally of a single point from two games with Incheon and Gwangju although not terminal to their own hopes, certainly won’t have helped their cause.

Next week we travel to the capital to take on Seoul whose 2-1 defeat at Suwon yesterday damaged their hopes of continental qualification. However, that’s going to be yet another extremely stern test of our own hopes.

Following that, we have a 3-week break for FA Cup action (we were knocked out in the last-16) and then international matches after which we host Sangju in what could be a huge game, depending on results next week.

Fascinating times ahead.

[he_2]

Monday 14^th August 2017: Manager’s Office, Munsu Stadium, Ulsan

With the boys on a day-off following yesterday’s eventual hard earned 3-points over Pohang, I took the opportunity to catch up with some bits and pieces at the ground that I’d either neglected, or simply not had time to review.

One thing that had been strongly on my mind was how we were going to keep things fresh and interesting during the impending three-week break that would be following the Seoul match. As a player, when not involved with England, I’d found international breaks increasingly boring and stultifying. I know that managers did what they could to keep things relevant, but all too often it wasn’t possible with up to 90 percent of your squad otherwise engaged elsewhere.

Myung had let me know that we were only likely to be shorn of three, possibly four players during the international break which did mean that we could work hard on really nailing down some those things in training that we weren’t able to concentrate on during usual weeks in the lead-up to matches because we were preparing for the opposition.

So, whilst it would be really useful spending time on the training ground, I also wanted to get some friendly matches organised for three main reasons. Firstly to keep match fitness ticking over; secondly to give some minutes to players that hadn’t been able to get much – or any – game time in the past few weeks since I’d taken charge and thirdly to be able to have a closer look at some of the talented youngsters away from the training pitch or Under 23 environment and against better opposition.

To that end, I’d tasked Myung first thing with selecting three opponents for us to travel to over the next couple of weeks and play against. I didn’t care if they were in our division or one below, the only pre-requisites were that they were Korean, professional outfits and competitive.

Just before lunch he sent me through an email with the details of the three matches.

Weds 23^rd August – A v Seongnam

Weds 30^th August – A v Busan

Sunday 3^rd September – A v Gangwon

Two games at second-tier clubs and one against a side in our division and hoping not to get dragged into the relegation mire. Although I didn’t know a massive amount about our first two opponents, I was aware that 10-15 years ago both had been big players in the Korean game – consistently challenging for and winning silverware however, both had fallen upon tougher times in recent years. If nothing else, there was a cautionary tale for the likes of ourselves to heed. It’s not all that difficult to become a fallen or slain giant. Complacency must be guarded against at all costs.

Just after lunch, I was sat on the sofa in the office reviewing yesterday’s match on the projector screen and the notes that Myung, Kim In-Soo and Kim Do-Kyoon had made following their own review this morning ahead of the 20-minute de-brief with the squad that was planned I the morning before we got out onto the training pitch. Just as I was reviewing a passage of play just before half-time where there didn’t appear to be any direction in our passing, there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in!’

In came Dr Son Chang-Ho, the club doctor. We had briefly met a couple of times during matchdays when he’d been on site in case he was required at all, but other than that, the man was almost a stranger to me.

‘Hello, Mr Tilletson, sir.’ The good doctor said in an accent which hinted at time spent in the US somewhere.

‘Good afternoon, Doctor. Please come and have a seat.’ I shook him warmly by the hand and motioned for him to join me on the sofa.

‘You’re re-watching yesterday’s game.’ He observed.

I nodded.

‘That can’t be such an easy watch. We struggled a bit, I thought. To break Pohang down.’

‘I thought so too. See here, Doctor,’ I pressed play and showed him the passage that I’d just re-watched three times just before he arrived. ‘What do you make of it?’

The doctor watched the twenty-five second passage of play intently and remained silent for a moment afterwards, holding his index fingers to his lips as he considered his diagnosis. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

‘Well, Mr Tilletson, sir,’ he began. ‘I’m an expert in medicine and the human body, not football. However, to use a medical analogy, that is like watching a team on life support. It’s very passive and robotic. The players are comfortable and passing the ball, but there doesn’t seem to be a purpose. It’s just keeping possession of the football for the sake of it.’

‘Go on,’ I prompted, interested to see what else he was going to surmise as I could sense he hadn’t finished.

‘Well, the opposition are happy to stand-off, we are playing in front of them and they could be setting up deckchairs to sit down and watch us. They’d be harder worked doing that than they were whilst we were trying to seduce them to come out and play in private.’

‘But we weren’t particularly sexy, were we?’

‘Less alluring than sitting on an untreated bench and receiving a thoroughly splintered ass.’ The doc agreed.

He’d nailed exactly what I’d been thinking. It was boring. Totally boring. There was absolutely no point to what we were doing whatsoever. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d drilled into the boys during training that everything has to be done with a purpose. Sure, pass sideways, pass backwards if you have to, but always do it with the purpose of drawing your opponent out and creating space. This was a school playground exercise I was witnessing and it wasn’t the only example. I could have chosen more than half-a-dozen, but I’d gone with three to make my point in the morning.

‘At least we broke them down in the end, though.’ I remarked.

‘Yes, you did. Better late than never.’

‘Exactly. Anyway, Doctor, I’m sure you didn’t come here to moonlight as an unlikely Robbie Savage did you?’

‘Robbie Savage? Who is he?’ the doctor asked, bewilderment etched all over his face.

‘Ah, never mind.’ I assured him. ‘You’re twice as insightful as he’ll ever be and infinitely more eloquent.’

‘Hmm, okay. Well, Mr Tilletson, sir, it was just a quick visit for a couple of reasons. Firstly, Kim Yong-Dae will be back in full training tomorrow and available for selection on Sunday, assuming he gets through training this week.’

‘Oh really, excellent news.’ I said. And it was. I’d been looking forward to seeing the 37-year old custodian in we'action. Jeong Hyeon-Cheol had been excellent whilst deputising, but I knew how much of an influential character Kim Yong-Dae was on the group and to have him back in and around them in the coming weeks could only strengthen us as a unit. ‘What’s the second thing?’

‘I think the club could benefit from getting a sports scientist in to help around the medical set-up.’

‘Okay, why’s that?’ I asked. As a player although they’d become an increasingly prevalent part of the set-up at top level football clubs, I’d found them little more than an irritant piling us sky-high with pamphlets and other bumf around diets, exercise regimes and the like. Most of my team-mates had paid lip-service to these lectures and often, wherever possible, disregarded their advice and done their own thing. Not to the point of unhealthiness at all – everyone looked after themselves in terms of diet and working on their fitness in their own time – it was just a bit of a ball-ache.

‘We have myself and the two physios looking after the treatment and rehabilitation of injured players. On the coaching staff we have Tomoo (Tsukoshi) to get the players into peak physical fitness. We don’t have someone to act as the middle-man in-between. To work with the players and the coaching staff to help minimise the risk of injury, to work with the players to explain the benefits of eating a certain way or how to manage niggles and strains so they don’t become a longer-term problem.’ I’d not really considered the role of a Sports Scientist this way before – the link between the medical side and the coaching side of the club. Of course, I’d always seen them as an educational force, but through dogma and diktat rather than as part of a collaborative effort.

I thanked Doctor Son for his time and thoughts and promised him that we’d have adverts out within the next 24-hours. It was another description that would need to be drawn up and released, alongside those for a Chief Data Analyst and Head of Youth Development. Two roles that I’d been meaning to get people into but for one reason or another, hadn’t gotten around to. Assuming I could get sign-off from Kim Jung-Soo today, they’d be published first thing in the morning and we’d be another step down the road to being the club that we were striving to become.

[tenthreeleader]

Not sure how I've managed to miss this after all the posts you've made. This is really nice work. FM 2008 was my favorite version of the game too, but am curious to see where you take this.