Its a Swede, not a turnip.

So here i am, 2 months after meeting the girl of my dreams on a family holiday in Malta, I find myself in Stockholm, in front of the press, being confirmed as AIK's new manager.

How am I here? Well, allow me to digress.....

(I'm going to try and run this story as a sort of recollection, a look back on a football management career that just so happened to coincide with meeting my current Fiance. I'll try and add a little humour where I can, and also give a little backstory on things. I hope it reads well, and please, if you have ANY feedback, I'm more than open to it.)

This should be interesting...?

June 1st 2016
San Pahal Il Bahar, Malta.


I didn't really want to make this trip, in fact I complained loudly, several times about it. You see, this trip wasn't a lads holiday, or a week away with the wife and kids, or even a business trip. This was a week away, with my parents, sister, niece and her boyfriend. This was hell. This was embarrassing. Did i mention I'm 35? Yeah. 35, and on holiday, with my parents.

The trip was actually for my parents 25th Wedding anniversary, so I pretty much had come out for it. Family duties, and all that stuff. The 'holiday' (and I use that term loosely here), was a typical family affair. Miserable parents, bored kids (even though we're both in our thirties), and overly excited young adults.
It started horribly flying out of Newcastle airport where we were delayed for 2 hours (A missing folange, supposedly, once fixed there was a few extra packed on board, just in case). The stewardess team only got round with the drinks trolley once, and there was a screaming baby staring at me for the whole flight. Once we arrived i immediately regretted my decision to travel in Jeans. I can honestly say once we arrived at the hotel, my legs on fire. My boxers were soaked through, and I hadn't even pissed myself.
The hotel was nice enough, and that night we all sat around the main bar. My turn to get the drinks and I remember thinking I was just going to leave the family and go out to a different bar.

Then, there she was. Mediterranean tan, long black hair, beautiful brown eyes, and an amazing figure. The holiday had improved, ten fold. I approached the bar, for the first time in a long time, nervously (Last time I was this nervous was Canal street,
summer of 06. Different story for a different time.). I gave a nervous 'Hi' and was greeted with the most perfect smile I'd ever seen. She truly was amazing. Ordered my drinks, turned and left. I had to get this girl out. She will be mine.... Oh yes.....
Later in the night, and I'd had far too much. I plucked up the courage, which funnily enough by now, was there in abundance. I asked. DENIED. She told me to ask her again while i was sober.
"What's your name?"
"Lilyana"

I'd remember that. Next time I see her, I promised.

Well, now you do have my attention.

Canal street in Manchester? I can only imagine what you were up to there!

As for Lilyana, my eldest is called Lilly (middle name Anne) so I hope to hear more about her!

Keep it up!

June 3rd 2016
San Pahal Il Bahar, Malta

So, I'd failed in my first attempt to get Lilyana to let me take her out. Crashed and burned. Tonight would change that, I already knew she had tomorrow off, so my plan was to maybe get her out for a coffee, something to eat, anything really. But, that was tonight, and I'd received a call from back home with news on my floundering football career.

You see, I'd had the typical failing, somewhat very British career. Stop me if you've heard this one before... Signed for my local club, (Sunderland), at an early age, impressive run through youth team, looked to really be one for the future and was given a decent contract on my 18th birthday. Just after, and what do you know, I come racing out of goal in a one on one situation (away at Hartlepool) before tangling with the oncoming forward. I broke my leg in 2 places. I knew, there and then, that was it.
Fast forward 2 years later, and Sunderland released me, but to be fair to the club, they did keep me on in a Junior coaching role. I worked on my badges but was missing playing. I got in touch with a childhood friend and asked him a favour.


I signed for Seaham Red Star, playing part time, whilst also working on my badges with Sunderland.

Back to the present.... I'm Still with Red Star, as Player/Assistant Manager. We recently got promoted into the 8th tier of English football, and we were due to play in an overseas tournament that had still to be arranged, hence the phonecall.
It was Paul, the gaffer. He'd rang me to inform me that he couldn't make it to the 'Superettan Invitational Tournament' to run the team, as he had other things on (Great professionalism there, Paul). He wanted me to take charge of the team.
No problem. Few questions though:
"Where?"
"Sweden. Its an invitational that runs alongside the league season. They run it to give the kids some different type of competition."
"Right, and when is this?"
"We need you there in 10 days."

I wasn't too pleased, but it could be an opportunity at actually managing a club full time. It was no secret that Paul had lost interest in the club. If truth be told, It was me who'd pretty much pushed thee lads on to the title last year. Paul had nothing to do with it, other than several times he'd been sent to the stand for abusive language to the refs and linesman.

"Right, I'll go, send me the details".

I had a brief look through the details and it turned out we'd be playing 3 other teams in a typical tournament set up. 4 teams in group, top 2 play in a final. The teams had not been confirmed yet, and would only be announced on arrival. Onto more important current events though, Lilyana.

I made my way to the bar, somewhat less nervous than before, plucked up the courage and GULP.
She smiled, said Hello in that wonderful accent of hers (I'd recently learned she was Bulgarian), and slid me a napkin with her phone number on it.

GET IN!

June 4th 2016
San Pawl-Il-Bahar, Malta.

Right, today, well, tonight was the night. First date with Lilyana, and ever the pessimist I am, I fully expected it to be the last.

I started the day much like any Brit on holiday in an all inclusive resort would. FAR too much food, washed down with a few complimentary cocktails. Just these cocktails though. Need to keep my head straight! I retreated to my room, put some music on, picked out my gear (Summer dress shirt and dress shorts), and picked up my phone..... ''Hey Lily, we still on for today?''......
I waited, checking my phone every 20 seconds. For an hour.
Eventually she text back, ''Can we re-arrange and do this tomorrow? My daughter has a virus and is sick''.

Gutted. Bit of a shitty excuse, Daughter? WTF! I never signed up for this! I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I text her back asking if she was working tomorrow? She confirmed she was, but asked if I'd like to meet for drinks when she finished her shift.... DAMN RIGHT I'D LIKE TO! I confirmed, and she re-confirmed. Its back on., I thought. Get in.

During that afternoon, I received a email from Seaham's club secretary confirming the tournament details and fixtures. Games against Orebro SK, Akropolis IF were our first games, and then we played the one team I'd actually heard of. AIK. Jesus. They'll bloody hammer us!. Worried, but with nothing to lose, I started planning team drills and what not. I opened up a whatsapp group with several of the senior players, and told them my plans. Steve Cunnington, the team captain, was actually happy that Paul was not going to be in attendance. ''We know who the gaffer is Mick''. That made me a little proud. Could I take this team forward? The optimism flowed.

I'm still sat in 38' degree heat though, in a fucking dress shirt. Wheres my damn trunks?