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Welcome Home: God's Tale


Blanco

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This is my first attempt at a story so be please be patient. Any constructive comments welcome, and indeed encouraged....

Ewood Park, Blackburn, Lancashire. February 1st 2008.

Pedersen strides down the left wing in the driving rain here at Ewood Park. He nutmegs the right back, and puts in a pinpoint cross. Fowler takes it on his chest, and volleys it past the keeper into the top left corner. The crowd go wild... All twelve of them. Shame it was only a training session...

A man in a suit rises from the dugout, and addresses the team "Well done, lads. Good session, even with the s**te weather. Off you go now - straight home, mind, no diversions tonight. We've got United away on Saturday. Robbie, a word?"

"What is it, guv?"

"I don't know how to say this nicely, Robbie, but with the new lad we've brought in to play up top I don't think we're going to be renewing your contract. I think it's the best thing for both of us, I know you want to play games."

"Right, OK, I guess it's goodbye then. Thanks for the chance anyway, Incey. He better score against United, or you'll be wanting me back..."

"Goodbye, Robbie"

Toxteth, Liverpool. The Dog and Duck, nursing a pint

This was it... Decision time. After the season with Cardiff that had been, frankly, a disaster, I had promised myself that there would be no more lower league football. It was the Premiership or nothing for me. I knew that I wasn't going to get another offer from any self-respecting Premiership club, so that was the decision made for me. No more football - or was it?

"Mr Kinnear, it's Robbie. Robbie Fowler. I hear Mark Viduka's got injured again and I wondered if you needed cover up front. No? Well, thanks anyway"

My playing career was over...

Edit: This story is based on my game on the 12 Leagues Challenge, from the CSE forum. I am using FM 2008, patch 8.0.2 with the FM Weegie data update for the 2008/09 season. Leagues loaded: the top divisions of the 12 leagues with the highest reputation (England, Scotland, France, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Russia, Ukraine, Turkey, Romania, Holland and Germany)

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What next for Robbie Fowler? I was bored already after just one weekend of being officially unemployed. I grabbed a pen and paper, and locked myself in the study, emerging an hour later with frantic scribbling over one side of the sheet of paper, and a clean, neat set of bullet points on the other side. It read like this:

  • Lower League Football - but as we discussed earlier that is not an option
  • Spending more time with the wife and kids - an attractive option at first glance, but remember, I'm bored already
  • Throwing myself into running my property fund - I already have a net worth of £137 million. Isn't that enough for a comfortable life anywhere in the world?
  • Punditry - Do I want to spend all my time picking apart other people's decisions and criticising referees? I don't think so, Jamie makes enough of a mess of it already...
  • Coaching / Management? (The only one left...)

So, after careful consultation with Kerrie and the kids, my career as a Football Manager commenced...

There was only one club I would even consider managing in England, and I wasn't going to get that job in a hurry... Rafa looked well set, having just signed a new contract after much wrangling with Hicks and Gillette. As an international footballer, I felt that I might be able to get a half decent job. Just send them the tapes of my career (not the celebration at Goodison!!) and watch them lap it up. The fastest hattrick in Premiership history, winning the treble in 2000/01, that goal against Birmingham...

So, abroad it would have to be. I rang my agent to tell him to compile a list of any vacant managerial jobs in Europe that were worth taking...

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The Daily Mail: 10th February 2008

Fowler? A Manager?

By Charlie Hudson

Just a week after his unsurprising departure from Blackburn Rovers following their record signing of £8.5 million Markus Rosenberg from Werder Bremen, Robbie Fowler has worked out what happen next. Sources from inside the Fowler camp (I wonder who that could be?) have let us know that Fowler is planning to enter management. Experts and former team mates were caught cold about this decision. Fowler had never previously expressed an interest in staying in football after the end of his playing career - evidenced by his hundred million pound property empire. We caught up with several former team mates and contemporaries in football.

Graeme Souness (former Liverpool player and manger) : "Fowler? A manager? You must be joking. I'm gobsmacked by this news and only want to wish good luck to any club desperate enough to employ a clown like him" I had never liked Graeme Souness. He may have given me my debut as a raw eighteen year-old, but he was an awful manager and I bet I get more offers than him to be a manager over the next few months. The key word in his description is former...

Paul Ince (former Liverpool player and current Blackburn manager) : "I have to say I'm a bit surprised. I never saw Robbie as the managing type. However, he is a very driven individual and his exemplary attitude during his short spell at Blackburn leads me to believe that he can make a success of this management lark"

A spokesman for Tom Hicks had this to say: " I would like it on record that both George Gillette and I are absolutely opposed to Robbie Fowler as a manager. There is no way that a man with such a dubious personal life will ever become manager whilst we are in control at Liverpool. (I was younger, and I can't believe they would still hold it against me... They weren't even anything to do with Liverpool then)

I must say that I agree with Souness. I can't see the former Spice Boy ever being a decent manager. There is no way he will ever get any respect from the players, especially those who he played with. However, we should give the man a chance. Who would think from looking at him that he has the business acumen to mastermind the creation of a £137 million pound property empire?

The jury's out, Robbie...

As for available jobs, in the UK, Manchester City are looking for a new manager after Mark Hughes was fired just three months into his tenure with the side hovering perilously close to the relegation zone.. However, Dr Al-Fahim is unlikely to hire an inexperienced rookie the keys to his bank vault, even if he does know that Fowler spent some time here as a player. Further afield, Bayern Munich are on the lookout for a manager - Jurgen Klinsmann didn't last long either, but are the Bayern board going to replace one novice with another? I don't think so... All the best to Robbie Fowler in his hunt for a job - it might be a long wait though!

I thought that article might turn really nasty after reading the first paragraph and what that b*****d Souness said. As journalists go, this Hudson character seems vaguely reasonable. He has a point though - my lack of experience may really cause problems in finding a way in..

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My notes from the meeting with Sonny Davies (my agent) 14th February

1. Discussion re. Daily Mail article: Sonny had no idea how the information had found its way to Charlie Hudson.. but I couldn't help noticing the wry grin on the face of his secretary..

2. Re: New Jobs: Sonny compiled a list of jobs that he reckoned I had a chance of getting, but a clubs with a vaguely decent reputation. This is what he came up with:

Heracles - Dutch Premier Division

Dinamo Bucharest - Romanian League

Rapid Bucharest - Romanian League

Bayern Munich - Bundesliga

Chormolets - Ukraine

I thought that the best bet would be to send of my CV to all of them, and hope I got one offer...

3. Drafting Covering Letter / CV

Dear ----------------,

I enclose my CV in application for the role as manager at your prestigious club.

I realise that my lack of experience may seem like a real disadvantage at first sight, but I feel that a fresh perspective on management is needed at [insert name of club here]. I believe my knowledge of the sport as a whole is at least equal to the average manager, with my extensive experience of the best league in the world surely an advantage, alongside my large list of contacts in English football.

I look forward to hearing from you

Robbie Fowler

I know it's not very good... I've never had to apply for a job before...

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20th February

All the replies are in now... I didn't want to open any of them untill I had them all. Putting the difficult decision off as long as I could...

First envelope:

Dear Mr Fowler,

We regret to inform you that your application for the role as manager here at Bayern Munchen has been unsuccessful. We have chosen Javier Aguirre as the man to lead us to the Bundesliga title, as we feel he had the most relevant experience.

Thank you for your time,

Dennis Blum (Chairman)

Envelope 2:

My original letter returned with a red stamp 'Rejected' on it.. Charming. No job for me at Chornomorets.. Oh well, would never be able to spell it anyway...

3rd Envelope:

At last, my first offer. Rapid Bucharest have offered me a two year contract on £3,000 a week.

4th Envelope:

Another offer! I have been offered an identical contract at their city rivals Dinamo...

5th Envelope:

How strange... the envelope from Heracles was completely empty. Wonder what happened?

So, it's decision time. The big one has been made for me - my first port of call as a manager will be the Romanian Liga 1, and in Bucharest, the capital. Now I have to choose, Rapid or Dinamo? Looking at the information that had been faxed to me by their respective chairmen, the decision was made over a large cup of coffee, and half an hour poring over the squads and information about each club...

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British Airways flight BA143 to Bucharest touched down at 11:37 on the morning of the 23rd of February 2008. I quite literally awoke with a bump, and my English to Romanian phrasebook flew into the seat in front.

I hadn’t been expecting a limo or anything, but this was somehow quite demeaning. I had spent the past fifteen years or more being treated like royalty, first class or seats on a private jet. Now this. A man waving a board with ‘Fouler’ written on it ushers me towards a battered, grubby old Citroen…

Half an hour of nose to tail traffic through the centre of Bucharest later, we arrived at a grotty-looking hotel.

“This best hotel in all of Romania”

“Thank you”, I replied as I slipped him the 10 Lei note (Ed: about £2). He looked gobsmacked, and beamed at me as I disappeared into the dingy depths of the Hotel Romanei.

I checked my watch. 20 minutes until my meeting with the board, and the coaching staff. Time to spruce up a bit, and practice my Romanian…

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“Welcome to Bucharest, Mr Fowler. I trust your flight was pleasant?”

“Just fine, Mr Badea.”

“How are you finding Romania?”

“Different, I would have to say. Although I’ve only been here an hour or so, I’m going to have to adapt very quickly.”

“Back to business, please, Mr Fowler. Regrettably, we have very little to offer you in the way of transfer funds – your predecessor was a little, let us say profligate. Thankfully, he has been… disposed off. Mr Niculae will no longer be bothering us,. You may spend one million of your British pounds, plus of course any money you can raise through sales of players. What else… Here is a list of your current squad, and reports prepared by the man who will be your assistant. Report to training on Monday morning at 9 am. Your first match is on Wednesday, a cup game against our cross-city rivals, the team you turned down to manage us. Their fans would be delighted if they could get one over on us, and you in particular. ”

I left the room thinking that Mr Badea would be “most displeased” if we didn’t beat Rapid on Wednesday…

Author’s note: I am several seasons ahead in the game, so it is relatively impractical to give you detailed game reports on each and every match. I will keep you informed of anything remotely important to the story, and more besides to keep you guessing!

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Blanco, you could make details up ;).

That's what I did with my first season's stories from There's no time like the present.

Mind you, seeing as the main attraction here seems to be Mr. Fowler himself, I don't think it matters what you do.

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Blanco, you could make details up .

That's what I did with my first season's stories from There's no time like the present.

Mind you, seeing as the main attraction here seems to be Mr. Fowler himself, I don't think it matters what you do.

I remember bits, and will happily make some stuff up, but what I meant was that I'm not going to fall into the routine of doing match reports on every single game (some I will do in full, and others just gloss over), becuase I will inevitably neglect the storyline, and it would get a bit dry!

blowcrapup, I'm expanding on it a bit (making some stuff up) so keep reading...

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So this is it; my first training session as a professional manager. I had worked out my formation, tactics and all that roughly in my head over the weekend.

Although I didn’t know much about the Romanian leagues, I figured that with the quality of players that I had at my disposal we should be up there at the top of the division. This led me to think that an attacking formation would keep the fans happy, and we should win most of the games, but I kept a more measured strategy up my sleeve for the games where we needed to contain the opposition. My relative inexperience in managerial terms led me to think that I should keep it fairly simple for my first season. 4-4-2 was my preferred formation, as I was fairly familiar with it and the players should be too. My tweaks to the formation involved pushing the wingers forward, and dropping one of the central midfielders back a little to roam in front of the back four.

Looking at the squad, my best players were undoubtedly Nicola Mitea, an Ajax youth player who would be a definite first choice at left wing, and Bogdan Lobont, a veteran goalkeeper who was already murmuring about leaving the club. If we can keep hold of him we should have a decent chance of keeping clean sheets. The defence looks solid, Tamas on loan from AJ Auxerre especially so, with Pulhac looking top drawer at left back. I think my limited budget is going to be spent probably on a creative midfielder, and someone to play up top with Danciulescu, our top scorer thus far this season.

Of course, starting in February meant that I didn’t have the luxury of pre-season to fine tune what I had come up with. However, I had had an idea…

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“Igor, it’s Robbie. From Liverpool. How are things? Great, great, thanks. Listen, I heard about your big move. Can’t believe you got that job, congratulations mate. Listen, as it’s still your pre-season, do you fancy coming to Bucharest and having a kick around? I know it’s short notice but I saw you hadn’t had time to arrange anything. Cheers, boss. Looking forward to it.”

Biscan and his Torpedo Moscow team are coming to Romania…

Monday, February 25th 2008 – Dinamo Bucharest vs Torpedo Moscow

Today was just a quick run-around for the team, and a great chance for me to see if the tactics were working. Everyone would play 45 minutes, so as not to knacker them for Wednesday, and it worked a dream. We scored first after just three minutes, in a carbon copy of how I wanted our counter-attacks to work: ball is won in defence, given to one of the two centre midfielders, pushed wide, crossed in, and headed home. Beautiful. We scored two more in the first half, a header from a corner, and a goal reminiscent of that goal that Argentina scored in the 2006 World Cup. Toying with the opposition, we probed and probed and finally found a gap, Bratu finding Danciulescu who calmly made it three. The second half was less spectacular, but it achieved exactly what I wanted: my closing-out tactics restricted Torpedo to one off-target effort on goal, and we scored another ourselves. All in all, a highly successful afternoon.

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The following day I spent most of the time in my office, exchanging emails with Lazio manager Delio Rossi. We were negotiating over the transfer of reserve player Simone Del Nero. We clinched the deal at £700,000, and I was satisfied with my negotiation skills, getting Rossi to come down for £1 million. I also responded to a tip from an anonymous emailer – advising me to look at Lucian Sanmartean, currently without a club to fill the creative midfield slot. Both players signed on the morning of our cup game against Rapid, and went straight into the matchday squad, albeit only on the bench…

At the end of Tuesday’s training session, I walked into the changing room, and wordlessly pinned a single sheet of paper to the wall on the far side. This was how it read:

Team to face Rapid:

GK: Lobont

DL: Pulhac

DR: Blay

DC: Tamas

DC: Goian

MC: Margaritescu

MC: Munteanu

AML: Mitea

AMR: Torje

FC: Danciulescu

FC: Bratu

Subs: Del Nero, Ropotan, Pekharic, Martis, Niculae, Sanmartean, Dolha

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23rd February – Dinamo Bucharest vs Rapid Bucharest

This will be my first game in charge of the team who I am going to turn into the best team in Romania. Arrogance? I prefer self-belief. I stride into the dressing-room and there is an instant silence amongst the players. I had rehearsed the speech both in my head and with the interpreter hundreds of times. My Romanian was improving day by day, but I planned on keeping the interpreter for at least the first month.

“Gentlemen, treat this as the first game of the season. I don’t need to remind you that this is a cup game, and one that we simply cannot lose. Those of you who were brought up here, you know how this game makes the fans feel, and for those of you who weren’t, I can guarantee that you will never have played in a game as fiery as this before, and if we don’t win today, you never will again.”

The teams jogged out of the tunnel and were greeted by an enormous roar from the full house at the Dinamo Stadium. Danciulescu touched the ball to Bratu, and we were under way. My heart was in my mouth as the backpass bobbled on its way back to Lobont, but he adjusted himself well and launched the football well past the halfway line. The Rapid centreback misjudges the bounce, and Bratu is through on goal. He has enough pace to get away, and his shot beats the keeper. I rise to my feet, about to celebrate the first goal under my management when the ball clatters against the crossbar, and away to safety.

The next twenty minutes are spent with the ball bogged down in midfield. Neither team creates anything even half decent until the twenty fourth minute. Rapid play a simple pass that outwits both our centrebacks. George Blay hunts down the opposition striker but cuts him down two yards outside the box. The referee blows his whistle… and points at the spot. “What!” I leap to my feet and scream obscenities in his general direction. My interpreter shrewdly chose not to translate my every word, saving me from a probable fine and touchline ban. The Brazilian striker, Adriano (not the one you’re thinking of), stepped up to try and convert from ten yards. He calmly strokes it towards the bottom left corner, but Bogdan Lobont dives, and tips the ball around the post! The biggest roar yet erupts from the home fans.

From the corner, Pulhac heads clear. The ball drops to Mitea. He skins one opponent, nutmegs another, and from an impossible angle, hammers the ball into the top right hand corner of the net. Unbelievable stuff from the left winger! I glance towards the away supporters. To a man they are sitting dead still, stunned into silence by the brilliance of Bogdan Lobont and Nicola Mitea. The Rapid players look shellshocked, and just two minutes later, Mitea dances past the right back, and his shot whistles just past the post. Half time approaches, and I had this to say to the team.

“Look, guys, we’ve got a lead thanks to a great goal from Nicola, but we haven’t really created that much. Defence, well done, no chances whatsoever apart from that horrendous incident - you know what I mean, and I think you owe Bogdan a pint, George. Keep it up. We’ll give fifteen more minutes until I make any changes, so play your hearts out till then. The game isn’t won yet, but you guys are clearly capable of closing this one out.”

The next fifteen minutes would be classed as tedious by the casual observer, but my heart was in my mouth any time the ball entered our half. I glanced at my watch and realised I needed to make some changes. Danciulescu had been anonymous up front, so I replaced him with new signing Simone Del Nero, and fellow newcomer Lucian Sanmartean replaced Catalin Munteanu in the centre of midfield.

Ten more minutes passed, with Adriano going close with a header and a long range drive from the central midfielder clipping the outside of the post. In the seventy second minute, I knew we’d won our first game with me at the helm. Bratu laying the ball up for substitute Sanmartean, who put a pinpoint ball through which Del Nero finished with aplomb. Not bad so far on the tactical side… I called captain Pulhac towards the touchline, and told him to switch to the defensive tactic we had worked on. It worked, no further chances for either side, and the Dinamo fans were ecstatic at the final whistle. Was it my imagination, or were a few of the ultras chanting my name?

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“Congratulations, Mr Fowler. The fans are exceedingly pleased with the performance. I hope the good form continues, but I must remind you that your predecessor also started with a win, and his career… has hit a dead end.”

I shivered as I left the room. I don’t know who the old manager was or what happened to him, and I got the feeling that I didn’t want to find out. As I shut the door I heard the phone ring.

“Wasn’t he good, Mr Hicks.”

I heard no more as I was ushered down the corridor.

Why was he talking to Tom Hicks? I presume he was talking about me, but what did Hicks want? I thought he said he didn’t want me anywhere near his club…

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The next three weeks passed like a blur, three league games against relegation fodder teams that no Englishman (other than the keenest football fan) would have even heard of, let alone being able to name any of their players. Nine points later, and Rapid were back where they belonged, at the top of the league.

The next game brought me down to earth with a bang. Poli 1921 weren’t the most glamorous opposition, it wasn’t like my hundred percent record was finally ended at the Nou Camp or the San Siro.

Fowler suffers first setback: Poli 1921 2 – 1 Dinamo Bucharest

By Charlie Hudson

The sparkling start that Robbie Fowler has made to managerial life in Romania, with three wins out of three, is over. Dinamo slumped to a 2 – 1 defeat at the hands of Poli 1921, thanks to a last minute own goal from substitute Shelton Martis.

Dinamo took an early lead thanks to the mercurial brilliance of Fowler’s first signing, Simone Del Nero. He picked up a fine pass from former Ajax winger Nicola Mitea, danced around two defenders, and calmly slotted the ball between the onrushing goalkeeper’s legs. His celebration pointed at the man he clearly tought responsible – Fowler.

However, things took a turn for the worst shortly before half time. Right back George Blay caught the opposition centre forward with a superb left hook, and was immediately given his marching orders by referee Ionel Hagilentu. It later transpired that the centre forward had used some choice language in describing Blay’s celebrity girlfriend, but as Fowler said to the local media (in what I must add is a remarkable level of proficiency in Romanian) “ There are no excuses for what George did today. His stupidity, to be honest, has lost us this game, as well as being top of the league. He knows that he’s not just let the team down, he’s let me and all the coaching staff down, he’s let the fans down, but most of all he’s let himself down.”

From the resulting free kick, the man left unmarked due to Blay’s absence inevitably headed home, leaving Fowler tearing his hair out on the sidelines. Fowler got to make his substitutions after that, but he was understandably fuming.

Dinamo then proceeded to dominate the second half, despite being a man short. Mitea’s cross found Danciulescu, but his shot was tipped on to the bar, and Torje had a perfectly good goal chalked off for offside. Most controversially, Bratu skipped past the keeper and was about to pass the ball into the empty net when he was hit by an object from the crowd. As the blood streamed from his forehead, he scuffed the shot into the side netting before collapsing to the ground. Fowler added “I will leave this unfortunate incident to the board to make any official complaints.”

The final nail in the coffin came in the 91st minute. A corner came in to the near post, at a slightly tricky height. Martis attempted to volley it clear, but he sliced it, and it nestled perfectly into the top corner. The Poli supporters were almost too embarrassed to celebrate, and Fowler was almost sobbing on the touchline. “I don’t blame Shelton for what happened today. It was unfortunate, but we should have won the game well before that.” Dinamo drop to second in the table – city rivals Rapid (a team which Fowler rejected to join Dinamo) sit on top.

In other news, Graeme Souness, currently unemployed, criticised Fowler’s performance. “I have to say that that was one of the worse performances I have ever seen from a side tipped as title winners.”

Guess he didn’t see a few of his own games in charge at Benfica. Or our 6 – 0 win against Otelul the week before.

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Another month passed, and the news was at best mixed. Two gritty 2 – 1 victories over midtable sides kept the points rolling in, but I was worried that not getting into top gear might cost us later when we came up against sides who were really capable of causing us problems. The next setback came against a team whose only aim was to avoid relegation. Our strikers were off form, and the Gloria Buzau goal led a charmed life. Bratu had three shots rebound off of the woodwork – and it was just another of those super – keeper days. Still, have to take the rough with the smooth. My suspicions were aroused when that 0 – 0 draw was followed by a repeat performance against Rapid. I called the two strikers into my office after that stalemate:

“What happened, boys? You’re a couple of the best strikers in this division, and today and last week you played like pub amateurs.”

Danciulescu piped up first “Well, boss, we tried to do what you said, but the instructions just didn’t make much sense”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, normally you tell us to run the channels, and when Nicola and Gabriel get the ball we head straight for the penalty spot, but these last two weeks your new instructions…”

“New instructions?”

“Yeah, the ones that Claudiu (Vaiscovici, the club’s assistant manager) gave us. They came from you, right?”

“Gentlemen, any instructions I want to give you will come from my mouth and my mouth alone. Understand?”

I didn’t wait for a reply as I stormed to the chairman’s office. Vaiscovici didn’t have the backbone to screw up my tactics without some serious money, .

“Nicolae, I want a new assistant manager. Someone is bribing or threatening Claudiu and he can’t take the pressure.”

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr Fowler. Claudiu will be… reprimanded”

I couldn’t help feeling that I wouldn’t want to be in his position come tomorrow morning.

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Really interesting story so far.

But Shelton Martis?!?! Not surprised he scored an own goal!

Will definately be keeping up with Fowler's progress!

My predecessor splashed out £750,000 on him so I thought I should at least put him on the bench... even though he looked awful

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Claudiu didn’t show up for training the next day. Or the day after. He arrived midway through the morning session, shivering, looking as if he hadn’t slept for days. Still, no more additional instructions to my players followed, so any more slip ups would be purely down to me. Four comfortable league victories followed, as well as a 1 – 0 win in the away leg of the Romanian Cup Semi-Final so I was feeling understandably smug.

“Right boys, this is the team for the game tomorrow. We outplayed them at their place, and all we need is a draw in front of our own fans to get to the final.”

A few gasps and open mouths later…

“But boss, this is like a reserve team. You don’t win anything with kids”

“I am confident in their ability, and besides, what would you rather win, some s**tty cup or the league title? This is the biggest club in Romania, and for us not to have won the championship in five years is a disgrace.”

A two nothing defeat later and I was a wiser manager. Angry, out of the cup, but a wiser manager.

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Now the pressure was really on. My conversations with the chairmen so far had led me to believe that not winning anything would leave to a swift exit from my first job as a manager. The next game was crucial. Rapid Bucharest had fallen away from the top of the table in recent weeks, so we now had an away game at the third team in Bucharest, Steaua. Three games to go, and a two point lead. Defeat would be disastrous, as we would have to rely on Steaua dropping points in their last two games against opponents who could be best described as ‘mediocre’. A victory would practically guarantee us the title, and we would need just a point from each of the last two games.

“Right, boys. You know what’s at stake here. If we win, that’s the title, but if we lose, I won’t be here next season and neither will most of you. Go out there, play the way you know how, and I guarantee that you will win.”

Bratu knocked the ball to Danciulescu and we were off. The first ten minutes passed with little or no incident, and with a quarter of an hour gone the Steaua fans were screaming with delight. Dayro Moreno latched onto a long clearance and coolly slotted past Bogdan Lobont, who was fuming at the ineptitude of his defence. Steaua switched to defensive mode, and we weren’t on top form, so attack after attack came to an end without scoring a goal until the referee brought the first half to an end.

“We can win this, boys. They are sitting back in their own penalty area, just inviting us to score. Florin, Ionel, fifteen minutes to convince me why you two are the best two strikers in this division or you are off. You know what this means to the fans, go give them what they want.”

Fifteen minutes later, and little or nothing to note. Bratu and Danciulescu are hauled off for Del Nero and Ganea, and Dinamo spark into life. The equaliser comes in the 72nd minute, when Ganea’s through ball finds Torje, who is scythed down inside the box by a vicious challenge from behind from the Steaua centre back, and Del Nero keeps his nerve to calmly guide the ball into the bottom left corner, via the inside of the post.

Steaua are shocked out of their shell, and the match finally becomes worth watching for the supporters at the end behind our goalie. The chances come thick and fast, with Lobont putting on a masterclass in our goal, and theirs’ living a charmed life. Am I a teensy bit biased??? The game is decided in the 87th minute, when the come back is completed with an unbelievable thirty yard lob from supersub Simone Del Nero to silence the home fans and send our lot to heaven.

We wrapped up the league with two wins from our last two games, leaving a Steaua team shot of morale well behind in the end. Danciulescu was the top scorer in the league that season. I wasn’t as delighted as everyone else, as I knew that I could, and probably should, have won the cup too. Still, next year I would have my first experience of European football; another thing off of my checklist.

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