The second installment from guest author @SegundoVolante1 Be sure to give him a follow if you enjoy his story.
I went over and sat at the bar and asked for some shots. The vodka would surely sooth my nerves. Next me was a very big man, by big I mean massive. He was 6ft5 and he had a big bald shiny head that seemed to reflect light and gave him weird glow, he looked like an otherworldly creature. He was wearing a suit which was certainly too small for him and it looked like it hadn’t been ironed in years.
It was his voice that was intriguing though, he sounded like a 9-year-old choirboy his voice was high and squeaky. For a big man he sounded like a girl and he almost made me break into a laugh when he spoke.
“What are you doing in this shithole” he asked
“It looks like I’m going to be stuck here for a very long time”
“What about you”
“I own a club here Ferro, not sure if you’ve heard of it. Not exactly a household name”
“I just came by the training ground, what happened to the manager”
“Oh he fucked off, good riddance anyways. The problem is we can’t find anyone to replace him. What do you do for a living?”
“I used to be a journalist but I got fired, I do have some coaching badges though. I have my national B badges, not really been of much use though”
“Interesting, do you have any previous experience in managing?”
“Well no but I consider myself a tactical genius, here’s card if you ever need anything”
I finished my drink and got up, as I expected I was already feeling better partly due to the drink and also the chat I just had. Surely I didn’t have a prayer, why would someone hire an inexperienced buffoon like me. Would the players even listen to someone who had no previous experience in football apart from writing a few half-baked articles. How could someone even work under someone who looked like that, he certainly looked like a nutter. The financial situation certainly looked bleak, I was in for a big challenge if I ever took the job. That was a very big if.
I stumbled around town asking people about a good place to stay. Apparently there was only one place to stay in town and that was Nina’s Motel. What a name that was! I eventually got to the place and it looked horrific from the outside, paint was chipped off everywhere and only one letter in the sign actually lighted up. I walked inside and the whole place smelled of cats and rotten eggs. I had to work hard to keep my gag reflex in check. There was old woman at the front desk was knitting and she looked about 200 years old. She wore one of those glasses that made your eyes bulge and she was wearing a pink cardigan which she had obviously knitted herself.
“Do you need a room” she said enthusiastically almost dying while she was saying it
“Here you go, if you need anything I’m always here”
She gave me a key and showed me the way to the stairwell with her hands, she would probably collapse if she got up. The room was dank and it had the same pungent smell. How had my life become this bad!
The next day I got up very late, the vodka had probably taken its toll. I checked my phone and it was then were I got a surprise. I had 8 missed calls from an unknown number, yes 8. I got up and went to take a shower making a mental note to call him back. I dialed the number and immediately the whiney voice I heard yesterday picked up.
“Where have you been!” he said exasperated
“Had a bit of a lie in”
“Well get down to the club”
“How many fucking clubs do I own you clown, now get down here quickly!”
I dressed up and hailed a cab as quick as I could, trying but ultimately failing to make myself look smart. When I got there I entered the run down ground I had been to yesterday and entered the building adjacent to the stadium. It was as shabby as everything about the club, the chairman was waiting for me and he beckoned me towards his office.
“The job is yours if you want it”
“What! Me! not even an interview?”
“Well we would interview you if we had any other candidates”
“Well count me on board”
“Ok then you start tomorrow, just one rule and one rule only. Anything I have to say will be followed!”
I walked out feeling shell-shocked. Me the manager of a professional football club, yes it was the Argentinean second division but still. I felt the butterflies in my stomach and the doubts were already eating me. How would I deal with those players? I didn’t care now though; I would get fucking smashed tonight. It was a night of celebration!