Tyrone the Magazine Posted June 13, 2004 Share Posted June 13, 2004 Good stuff thoroughly deserved award Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 13, 2004 Author Share Posted June 13, 2004 [Cheers, I'm well chuffed ! Many thanks for all the positive comments. Sadly I am unable to catch the Euro finals as its on pay TV only down under so I'll be limited to highlights packages! Anyway, on with the big game] The players ran onto the field to huge roars from both sets of fans. The Manager took his seat in the dugout, wished his opponent best of luck, then sat an contemplated the match. It was hot, 32 degrees, and he would most likely have to rest Owen and Ferdinand late on. England’s approach would be defensive counter attacking early on, until the players found their feet, and all being well, would then move to the familiar attacking style that had always been the hallmark of Pete Best’s teams. The Manager felt the sense of occasion as the national anthems played, and even had a tear in the eye as the ref blew his whistle and the players, who had been hopping up an down nervously, scattered to their respective sides of the pitch. The stadium was a riot of colour, the predominantly red of Spain, and the Red, Whiye and Blue of England, a thousand union jacks waving furiously. Zheng shuffled toward his seat, annoyed by the constant commotion all around him. His face, however, did not betray him, and for all intents and purposes he looked like any other member of the 100,000 strong crowd. Zheng finally made it to his seat, and squeezed in between a huge sweaty England fan and an obviously drunken Spaniard, who were in the midst of an animated dispute. Their argument continued even as Zheng took his seat and nodded politely to both his neighbours. Zheng could still feel the device safely in the pocket of his coat, and surreptitiously kept checking it after every Mexican wave that he pretended to enjoy participating in. Spain won the toss and kicked off, Exteberria getting things underway as flashes seemed to come from all parts of the crowd. Rival fans geared up for a long day, their voices hoarse by the end, as they attempted to drown each other out. Drum beats and snatches of songs occasionally making their way through the cacophony of noise. After a nervous first couple of minutes, Exteberria beat Parked in a tough tackle, looked up and played Guayre into space, the Spanish marksman easily outpacing Ferdinand, Woodgate nowhere to be seen. The Managers heart sank as the Spanish marksman raced clear, the noise from the Spanish fans raising several decibels. Luke Steele had spotted the danger and rushed out to narrow the angle, the ball bobbled just as Guayre hit it, and what was supposed to be a lob over the keeper instead scuffed along the ground, easy for Steele. But it had been a close shave. The Manager was furious with Woodgate, and instructed Rio to stand off his man from now on. After 6 minutes Exteberria, playing a blinder, again released Guayre, the Villa man through again, only to be denied by a late sliding tackle by Ferdinand, who had positioned himself much better this time. There were ominous signs for the English, however. The Spanish pressure was telling, England frustrated by a lack of possession. Spain won a corner, only for Dawson to clear convincingly. Englands first real sniff of a chance came after 13 minutes, Parkers run and cross met by Cole at full stretch, keeper Vallejo having no difficulties. A minute later and the Dangerous Guayre blasts a shot wide on the run after a fine Fernandes lay off. Spain are well on top. Four minutes later a Gerrard free kick saw Samba head the ball down only for Owen to scoop hi shot over from 8 yards, the “oooooh†from the crowd indicating what a guilt edged chance it was. After 20 minutes Guayre beats six England defenders single handedly, only to take the ball over the line while rounding Steele. He looks in unstoppable form and the Manager considers making a switch, with Dawson coming into the centre. The Manager bellows his instructions – keep it short, look to attack, Dawson onto Vicente, who has been the provider to most of Spain’s attacks on the left. Three minutes later the Managers heart stops as a Boris cross is met by Guayre, diving full stretch, Steele grasping at thin air as the ball skims the post and flashes wide. England are under immense pressure, the Manager feels the tension and snaps at his assistant, the dram or two he had just before the game doing little to settle his nerves. Zheng had just about had enough of all the annoying, noisy, smelly and ill disciplined Western fans around him, and at one stage even clutched the device in his pocket, before relaxing a little and deciding to stick to the game plan. He wanted maximum effect, and so did his superiors, so he’d just have to put up with the constantly bickering and taunting fans all around him. He even participated in some of the arguments, so that no one got suspicious or suspected that he wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on out on the pitch. At one stage he even stood up and had to separate the fat Englishman in his lager stained Beckham shirt and the Spanish weasel who was constantly winding him up, taunting him at every opportunity. A rare foray forward by England sees the England captain thread a superb ball into the path of Samba, but he is closed down in a flash. Spain are looking good, and the Manager is starting to dread the spectre of a penalty shoot out ... 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Brian of Nazareth Posted June 13, 2004 Share Posted June 13, 2004 yas \o/ congratulations! Excellent, come on England, try and avoid a shoot out Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Faramir Posted June 14, 2004 Share Posted June 14, 2004 A deserving selection -- KUTGW (Hope the story continues after the Finals...) Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 14, 2004 Author Share Posted June 14, 2004 The half wears on, Spain still well on top, the Manager feeling worse and worse – Spain ar perhaps one hurdle too many for his talented side. A second later, Mullins collects the ball inside his own half, and knocks a sharp ball forward to Gerrard, who heads it down to Samba. Samba plays a neat one two with the England captain, finds space on the edge of the area and hits it low and hard. The Manager is out of his seat. The world seems to go in slow motion for a second as the ball sails toward the left hand goal post. Vallejo looks to have it covered for an instant, then the power behind the ball takes it past his fingertips and into the net. Silence for a split second, then chaos as Samba wheels away, the stadium erupts and the Manager and his staff are overwhelmed with relief and joy. 1-0 to England, against the run of play, a superb goal by Samba, worthy of a World Cup Final. But will England be able to hold on. The Manager knows that there is a long way to go. England start to knock it around, Mullins and Croft busy, Gerrard making a crude tackle to halt Vicente, and collecting a yellow card, lucky bot to be red. The Manager bellows for him to keep his head. The first half draws to a close, England, and Gerrard in particular, starting to assert their authority. At half time, remarkably, England have had 2 shots at goal, but three on target! Ashley Cole is the contributor of “The Phantom Shotâ€. Spain have threatened seven times. England are lucky to be in front. His players look exhausted, and the Manager gives them five minutes silence before tearing into them, letting them know that they must raise their game unless they want to throw away their chance of glory. They will most likely never get another chance, so make the most of it. The Manager asks them for one last effort, to run down every ball, make every tackle count, don’t give Spain an inch. Just after the break, a great run by Owen to the byline and excellent low cross finds Samba on the six yard line, the ball bobbling and Samba uncharacteristically missing it completely when all he had to do was connect to score and put the game pretty much beyond Spain’s grasp. After 51 minutes, Spain again looking strong and composed, the Manager throws Mullins forward and Gerrard back, but the move backfires as Mullins is caught offside, breaking down an excellent move orchestrated by Croft, who is having another busy day. The Manager swaps them back, chastising himself for tinkering. Dawson is booked for dissent soon after, and England are starting to look like a bit of a rabble. The Manager only hopes that they can keep it together and hang on, but its not looking like it. The Manager cannot believe his side is leading, they ceratinly do not deserve to be ... Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 15, 2004 Author Share Posted June 15, 2004 Suddenly Vicente played a great ball forward to Reyes, who had come on minutes earlier for the ineffective Mendieta, Reyes turnind Ferdinand in an instant and blasted a shot past Steele in the England goal. The ball hit the underside of the bar with a resounding thud, flashed down to the ground and rebounded away from goal, Woodgate scrambling it clear from the desperate lunge of Guayre. The Spainsh immediately surrounded the ref, and what followed was a pushing and shoving match of the proportions never before seen in a World Cup Final. The Spanish players were furious, claiming the ball had crossed the line. The replays were inconclusive. Shades of 66, but this time it was no goal. A minute later, Croft and Mullins combine to put Owen away down the left. Owen rolls back the years as he shrugs off his opponent and finds himself bearing down on goal, the keeper rushing out. In years gone by, Owen would have lobbed the keeper with trademark ease, but instead he pulls the ball across the box and into the path of Samba, making a late run. Samba connects but mis kicks, and the ball spins across goal only to catch the right hand post and ricochet into the net. Gooooooooooooal!!!! The Manager can hardly believe it. Nor can Samba, prone on the goal line and mobbed by his players. 2-0 now to England, Spain in a hurry to restart the match. Spain threaten again, but England defence holds firm, Mendieta coming closest with a long range effort, tipped over by Steele after 63 minutes. After 67 minutes the Manager is considering bringing on some fresh legs, and instructs Brandy, Giddings and Webb to warm up. A few seconds later, Samba carries the ball upfield powerfully, and finds Owen in space again down the left. Owen again shows great pace, leaving Puyol in his wake, and finds himself with a chance to shoot again from the left hand edge of the area, Valleja again advancing to narrow the angle. Croft has made a good run, but this time Owen shoots, and the ball sears low past the keeper and into the net to make it 3-0!! Un-be-lievable. The Manager sits rooted to the spot – that was the sealer – no way back now for Spain. Michael Owen has done it, repaid the faith shown in him and sealed almost certain victory. England possession game in the second half has paid off, frustrating an increasingly desperate Spain in to leaving gaps at the back. Owen, the master poacher, reaping the rewards. Spain are still putting in, and Woodgate has his hands full again with Guayre, who he has largely negated since a desperate opening half hour, Guayre’s shot slicing wide. England fans are in full voice and the Manager finally starts to relax, the tension draining away. He actually starts to enjoy the game. After 75 minutes the Manager sends on Brandy for Croft, Welsh for Dawson and Giddings for Cole, switching to 4-3-3 and looking to make it 4 to answer the fans request. Danny Webb sat stony faced on the bench. After 80 minutes a lovely flick on by Owen finds Samba, who’s volleyed shot flashes wide – a great opportunity for a hat-trick going begging. Owen and Samba combining superbly. Maybe Adriano would have trouble getting a start for Liverpool this season, after all, thought the Manager. As the final whistle approaches, Zheng grew pale, a cold sweat over his brow. His hand slipped again into his jacket pocket and clutched the small black plastic device with the safety switch, housed in a plastic cover. Zheng eased the cover from over the switch, and slowly moved his thumb against it, ready to lever it into the on position and claim his moment of glory. “Oi, you alreeeight there mate?†boomed the huge English fan, “Your looking a bit peaky, like?â€. Zheng quickly snapped out of it and smiling, replied “noooo problem maaate, dodgy hot dogâ€, and patted his belly exaggeratedly. Satisfied, the Englishmen began winding up his sworn enemy two seats across again. Zheng breathed a sign of relief - he’d nearly blown it, so to speak. Puyol forced a great save from Steele late on, but the last 10 minutes were really played in slow motion. Both sides feeling the heat, the Spanish players finally realising that the dream was over. English fans cheered every time a pass was made, it was party time! After 93 minutes the ref blew the whistle, the Manager rose slowly and soaked it all in before being swamped a second later by the staff and bench. This was indeed a great day for English football, and finally laid to rest the ghosts of 66 and beyond. Samba had been the star. But Owen also played a blinder, his link up play with the Player of the tournament superb. Parker was awarded man of the match honours for his busy display in the centre of the park, but as far as the Manager was concerned, they were all heroes. History would judge them. As the final whistle blew and the crowd rose around him with a roar, Zheng reached into his pocked again, but instead of simply flicking the switch, he felt a touch of theatrics coming on, and took the device out of his pocket, spread his stance and yelled his battle cry at the top of his voice, which was something in Islam, indecipherable to most, but roughly translated meant “death to the western imbecilesâ€. His voice was drowned out in the vast stadium. Just at the moment he raised his hand to flick the switch, the Spaniard hurled once last insult, and the Englishman, deciding that he couldn’t take any more, lunged across Zheng and landed a roundhouse right onto the nose of his enemy. The blow knocked the device clean out of Zheng’s hand, but he juggled and caught it on the way down. Just at that moment, the warring parties lunged again, this time knocking Zheng completely over the seat in front of him. This time, Zheng lost his grip on the device and it disappeared amongst a swarm of jumping and dancing feet. Zheng scrambled around on the floor, searching desperately for the trigger, collecting more than a few accidental boots in the head and back along the way. After a few seconds he spotted it, and snatching it up flicked the trigger and felt a rush of excitement as a deafening noise surrounded his senses and all around him exploded…. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 15, 2004 Author Share Posted June 15, 2004 [it seems Mendieta's younger brother, Jose, has also come on as sub! ] Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 15, 2004 Author Share Posted June 15, 2004 .... "The Manager ran onto the pitch, some of his players running towards him, others embraced or lay on the ground, disbelieving, the Manager shouted "We've won the World Cup, WE'VE WON THE WORLD CUP"! as he raised his fist a shook it skywards .... this was the greatest moment of his life!! .... As Zheng flicked the trigger of the device, he felt a sense of destiny, this was the way it was always meant to be. As he heard the massive noise, he knew that this was the greatest moment of his life!! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 16, 2004 Author Share Posted June 16, 2004 A second later, Zheng opened his eyes, only to see that that nothing had changed, the stadium was intact. The explosion he had heard had been that of the blast of streamers and confetti that now rained down onto the crowd and pitch from all corners of the massive stadium roof. He dragged himself to his feet, pushed away a Spanish fan who tried to hug him, and looked at the device. It had a crack running the length of it front and back, and as he turned it in his hand it crumbled to pieces and fell to the stadium floor. The 100,000 fans at the stadium, who had all thought that they were lucky to be there for the great day, didn’t realise how lucky they were. The secret compartment was discovered some months later, but the Chinese authorities hushed up what they had found behind it – better that no one knew how close the great day had come to being a great disaster. Zheng had long since left the country. The Manager watched on as the streamers and metallic red, white and blue confetti exploded in clouds over his and his players heads. The rest was a blur. The Manager and his players taking turns in kissing the cup and raising it above their heads, running laps of honour and posing for countless photographs. England had won the World Cup – no one could ever take that away now. In the end, history books would make it seem that England had strolled to victory, but the reality was quite different. A team of undoubted ability, but by no means the most talented, had put it together when it counted most, individual brilliance and a commitment to the team cause by one and all enough to see them over the line. England. World Cup Champions 2010. The Manager would never forget a second of the journey, and he was sure he’d never get used to the sound of it either! It had been an amazing experience, he and his players now sharing a bond that could never be broken. Time would tell what the future held for one and all. The ratings: Steele 8, Cole 7 (Sub Giddings 6), Ferdinand 6, Woodgate 8, Dawson 7 (Sub Welsh 7), Mullins 8, Parker 9, Gerrard 8, Croft 8 (Sub Brandy 7), Samba 9, Owen 8. At the end of the night, the Manager sat back on the balcony of his hotel suite, the streets of Beijing silent and cool below him, lifted the bottle of Laphroiag to his lips, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the warmness of the elixir flooding through his system, and he reflected on the campaign, the high and the lows, the special moments. Samba had fairly well won the World Cup off his own boot, but he was a small part in a big machine, on the end of some fine lead up play. Stephen Gerrard has shone on the grandest stage of all, finally shrugging off the disappointment of the past 8 years to captain his beloved England to glory in fine style. There had been other success stories and cameos too, Mullins dash and endeavour endearing him with the fans and press alike, Parkers superb passing and vision, and non stop running. Croft and Webb had had their moments too, and Lambu, when fit, had been truly amazing. The Manager was determined to Manage the lad at some stage of his career, as he was a player you could build a team around. There had been heroes at the back too, Steele surpassing expectations with a series of stunning displays, Woodgate & Ferdinand rock solid at the back too. Aye, it had been a great trip alright, easily eclipsing 8 years of the highest honours on the domestic and European club scene – but the Manager knew now the only path that lay open to him… The next day, the Manager shocked the footballing world by resigning from both the England and Liverpool Managerial posts, feeling overwhelmed by what he had been through, tired and emotional, feeling like his head had exploded, possibly having the worst hangover of his life, but knowing he was doing the right thing. He told the press that he was looking for some time off before seeking a new challenge, but really he knew that he had much bigger demons to deal with before he could risk the stress of the Managers lot in life once again. The Manager knew he could never repeat his feats with England, and Liverpool had such depth of talent that they should continue to build on the foundations he had laid and remain at the top for the foreseeable future. It had been a dream ride, a great adventure, but all things must come to an end, and this indeed was … The End. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
displaced_seagull Posted June 16, 2004 Share Posted June 16, 2004 Superb story - and a great twist at the end as well, I was just about to bemoan that when England finally do win something, they're all blown up seconds later. Hope to see more of your work in the future Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Brian of Nazareth Posted June 16, 2004 Share Posted June 16, 2004 as above, fine work, perhaps this is an allusion to things to come? Euro 2004 victory tinged with crowd violence? Well written too Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 16, 2004 Author Share Posted June 16, 2004 <BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Hope to see more of your work in the future <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Thanks for the positive feedback. The story became a bit of a struggle to write towards the end. Lets hope England can replicate the victory in the real world one day (soon)! I have an idea for another story, to be titled "Sliding Tackles", based on the concept of the movie of a similar name, following parrallel paths seperated by an initial twist of fate (the twist being the Managers resignation). I'm not sure how i'll build in the twists and turns yet, but I'm sure something will come to be, eventually! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 21, 2004 Author Share Posted June 21, 2004 Bah! Damn it! I tried to start my 'Sliding Tackles' story using my existing game with Liverpool/England, resigning from both posts (not a word about it in the media or from the fans - very disappointing - at least a protest outside the ground would have been nice) then for some reason the next day I was offered the Liverpool job again, but was unable to either reject or accept it! End result, I'm stuck in a never ending time vortex on 21 July 2010!! Where is the good Doctor when you need him? Luckily, part of the plan was to save the game under a different name before resigning, but it looks like I'm stuck at Liverpool for eternity (or at least until I get sacked) as the game refuses to let me go elsewhere!! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
cantonaisgod Posted June 23, 2004 Share Posted June 23, 2004 Just caught up with this, must say, very well written As mentioned, hope you get another one going before long Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 24, 2004 Author Share Posted June 24, 2004 And you wonder why Pete Best was so worried about a penalty shoot out?! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Faramir Posted June 25, 2004 Share Posted June 25, 2004 Nice story and a good twist at the end Looking forward to more from you... Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Raptor Posted June 27, 2004 Share Posted June 27, 2004 Alright then, finished during its time as SOTW, good timing Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 27, 2004 Author Share Posted June 27, 2004 I must say i enjoyed my 15 minutes of fame. To be continued ... Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
owen goal Posted June 28, 2004 Author Share Posted June 28, 2004 The Managers Mobile rang at 11 a.m., and it was an interesting call. The Manager had been summoned to a meeting with the chief of the Brazilian Football Federation, and he was pretty sure he knew what was coming. He wasn’t really interested, but he had nothing else to do, and you never passed on the chance for a free lunch (and yes, there is such a thing). The meeting was long and interesting, and closed with the words “so Pete, we have pleasure in offering you the position as the Manager of the Brazilian National Team. We do hope you will join usâ€. So now the Manager had a decision to make. He had promised he would sleep on it. In the morning, after along and restless night, the decision was made. The Manager picked up the phone and …. The Managers days were long and painful. He really wasn’t cut out for a life away from football. Even the press interest had died down in the days following his shock resignations, and now he was left with no sense of purpose, or even of what he was going to do next, aside from have another drink. The Managers Mobile rang at 11 a.m., and it was an interesting call. The Manager had been summoned to a meeting with the chief of the Brazilian Football Federation, and he was pretty sure he knew what was coming. He wasn’t really interested, but he had nothing else to do, and you never passed on the chance for a free lunch (and yes, there is such a thing). The meeting was long and interesting, and closed with the words “so Pete, we have pleasure in offering you the position as the Manager of the Brazilian National Team. We do hope you will join usâ€. So now the Manager had a decision to make. He had promised he would sleep on it. In the morning, after along and restless night, the decision was made. The Manager picked up the phone and …. [Well, that’s it folks, my game is now totally stuffed, I cant even make a decision now in the game, so I am trapped forever on July 25th 2010. I’ll never know what became of Pete Best, or his beloved Liverpool team after that. We will instead travel back in time to 2003 and start the adventure all over again – in some other league, with some other team. Until then …. Adios!] Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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