Gus' Advantages; Southend Boss

[Jaztheman]

"Erm hello, may I ask who is speaking?"
"Why I'm Ron Martin, ov caaahrse. I know all abaaaht ya."
"Ron Martin? Wow, it's a pleasure. Why did you give me your number?"
"Gawdon Bennet! You'll soon find out. Just go down ter 10 Danvear Road. All'll be revealed. OK?"​

The line went dead. Was I just speaking to Ron Martin? Chairman of Southend United FC. Gracious me, I'm overjoyed that I did call that number now. I got some of my things together such as my wallet, phone and some spare change and quickly made my way out of my decrepit flat. I walked down the corridor outside my flat and made my way to the spiral stairs. 52 steps in all, not something for the faint hearted...

Danvear Road. Hmm. If I remember correctly then that is just two streets away from me. I set off on my endeavor, in search of my destination. I bypassed the local corner shop, ran by local legend Fahim Khalique. He sells the best curry powder and men magazines. Both giving you hours of pleasure. The shop looked dead, although with darkness now overpowering the light, that was to be expected. The moonlight shone on from above, glistening on the shop window. I looked down at my watch; 21:39. Most places would be closed now and as far as I was aware, there was no big building that would be worthy of being the home to Ron Martin, nor any convenient meeting places.

Curious to find out what just lay in store for me, I increased my pace. I passed another row of houses, looking out onto the road, most of them drained of joy from years of torture. This wasn't the best estate in Southend; far from it. Walking around at night, was unheard of around these parts. Gangs from either side of town would settle their differences in these neighbourhoods, which in many cases would involve guns and knives. Not something you want to get involved in, just from a casual stroll.

I turned at the end of the street, which led on to a very short road. The road was beaten to a pulp, overused by joyriders and youths looking to impress. I once again quickened my stride, finding myself looking behind me every few seconds to ensure I was not being followed. I came to the end of the road and saw to the right of me a street sign entitled "Danvear Road". This was the road I was looking for. I started my search for number 10, but it didn't take long as the long stretch of houses had their numbers on their mailbox. Mailbox's? Must of been built by those wretched Americans.

I found myself just outside of number 10. I opened the gate, and made my way along a short narrow path. Situated either side of the path was long blades of grass, which obviously hadn't been cut for a very long time. It was all rather creepy, too creepy in my opinion. The steps however, were in tip top condition which led to a beautifully wooden carved door, which was definitely unique as opposed to other doors on this road. This house was screaming individuality and was most certainly different. Nothing felt right, it just felt too different. Despite this, I lifted up my favourited right hand and knocked hard on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

[shefellover93]

Oooh, suspense!!!

 

[treva]

"Knock, knock, knock...

...WHAM! I got smashed in the face by that thing off jackass."

Brilliant writing as usual. Lets hope this Ron Martin isn't a serial killer!

 

[Biggy]

Whom will answer? : Great last entry but now I need to read it from the start, hehe. Good job!

 

[KBC]

Great work, nice suspense there jamie.

Who'll answer the door? The clown?

 

[Jaztheman]

As I knocked for the third consecutive time, the door flung open. There was a man, dressed in the same attire as the man outside Tesco, wearing dark sunglasses that covered his eyes. He hovered over me with his, what seemed, muscular figure and looked like someone you generally didn't want to mess with. I for sure, would not be trying anything funny when he's around. Apart from the figure who answered the door, there was not much out of the ordinary. It was a normal decorated hallway, with the average bathroom to the right and living room on the left. However, there was one thing that struck me straight away. Looking over the shoulder of the man, was a door. A door with a padlock, a chain and some kind of device.

"Follow me."​

No questions asked, no conversation started, nothing. All he said was a simple imperative. He turned and started walking towards the door. I felt undernourished from the information that was made available for me but it seemed that I was going to find out what all this was about. We made our way quickly through the hallway and found ourselves stood just before the mysterious door. I observed him intensely, eying up every action he took. He worked quickly and wasted no time. He brought out a key from his suit pocket and unlocked the padlock, before unlocking the chain.

He then turned his attention to the device, which was located on the wall, but reached out into the hallway. It looked like some kind of up to date technology, but even I had never seen such state of art equipment; not in my playing days or even at Leeds! He raised his hand so it was placed onto the gadget. The unknown object then sprung to life and analyzed his hand. A few seconds later and "Permission Granted" was typed across the screen. Some kind of palm reader perhaps? I was beginning to urinate my pants and excrete my boots, to put it nicely.

The door slid to the side, revealing a room with epic space. We advanced into the spacious room, that had a huge amount of space. I scanned all around the room. Looking on in awe; there must of been about 15 computers with around 30 inch desktops! I was bewildered by what I saw, but the expression on the man's face, was like it was a usual sight. There was only one seat in the whole room, stationed in the middle of the all the computers. They were all displaying different football matches that looked live. All of a sudden, in one swift movement, the chair rotated round and was now facing me. There was a light figure, a man dressed in a fully white suit, and top hat to match. He looked as if he had seen a few summers over the years, and enjoyed a bit of a drink. An authority figure for sure.

"You must be Gus."​

 

[treva]

Another suspense writen update, and another good one. A tonne of live football matches at night? Look forward to seeing what that's all about

 

[Kshitiz_Indian]

Great start James, lets hope it continues, oh and yes, you can do some tweaks to that font.

 

[mattfb]

Great last couple of updates mate, brilliant writing! Kiu!

 

[Dr. Pepper]

Wow awesome start mate. This story looks like it could be a cracker. Wow! Ron friggin Martin!? Are you kidding me?!

 

[Jaztheman]

"Aye, I am Gus."
"Good, we finally found you after looking for you for quite a while."
"Please may I ask why you were looking for me?"

The room went silent. The man, who I had now resolved to being Ron Martin, turned back in his chair and paid all his attention to the live football being displayed on his state of the art Desktops. There was a match from Brazil, I noticed Sao Paulo were winning 1-0, and a match featuring some team playing in blue and white. There was football everywhere you looked, it was a sight to behold. A giant sigh came from the direction of Ron.

"Don't you just love the game of football?"
"Yes, I have a good passion for it."
"You have to analyse every single aspect of it."
"You're right there."
"You have to know whether they play build up football, counter attacking football; anything. Now when your manager, I expect you to come here often and..."
"Wwwhat?"
"... to break down the opposition from defence to attack."

Has he just offered me the job of manager for his club, Southend United? I could not believe myself. I found myself staring into oblivion, dreaming about such occasions like this. I had not felt such elation and confusion at the same time in a long while. Just as I started to bring my senses together and was bringing myself back down to earth, he once again turned to face me. He certainly enjoys swinging on that darn chair!

"I've probably confused you so I'll put it simply for you; I'm giving you the chance to be Manager of Southend United. I know you have the credentials to do well, heck you're loved everywhere you go."
"I do not know what to say, I'm speechless."
"Well yes would be a good start. I'm not expecting an answer straight away, that would just be terribly mean...



I'll be kind and let you think about it for a few minutes."

I was bemused; totally bemused. I did not know what to think and how to respond in a manner that would portray me best. I haven't managed a club yet, only been assistant manager, and League One would be a sensational place to start. But the practicalities? I have been out of the game for two months and would no doubt be rusty, perhaps leading to some poor form. I'd love to get back doing what I love though. Coaching football, breathing football, sleeping football. If I reject the offer though, then I may get a better proposal from somewhere else. It's a big decision; not one to be made lightly. And I've got to make that decision in a few minutes...

Holy cra...

 

[treva]

He's gotta take it really. He's in the shitter at the moment and I doubt many other offers as good as this will come along.

Great writing as always James

 

[shantanu_rooney]

Hopefully you will take charge of Southend United good luck as manager James. Some brilliant updates their and great writing. KIU

 

[Dr. Pepper]

Holy crap? What a dream start, getting the job offer of your life for your home town . Now for a terrible season leading to relegation .

 

[mattfb]

Well that was easy enough! You only need a few seconds to think about it, take the job!

Fantastic work James, top quality story. kiu!