[FM17] The Journeyman Jock

The Journeyman Jock - Lemme' talk to ya'

27/12/19 - conversation 1 of 3

I walked into the office at the end of the corridor. Stefano de Luca, the San Marino Calcio chairman and owner is sat in his high backed chair. The office window looked out over the San Marino skyline like a modern day citadel really, like he was the king of this small village / city. Ominous is the word I’d probably use to describe it.

I felt an air of tension in the room as soon as I came in, I got bad vibes from the atmosphere and the steely look on Stefano’s coupon boring down on me didn’t fill me with confidence. He’s well known around here with interests in multiple businesses and as such is highly respected but has the ability to instil fear into other business heads, so I’m told.

‘Jock, welcome’ is how he greeted me. I returned the gesture and we made small talk before digging into the real reason for our meeting.

‘I have supported you and David all summer, regardless of the accusations…’ I cut him off

‘Unproven accusations boss. They will always be unproven because we’re innocent’

‘I know that Jock, but regardless of that I am under a lot of pressure from people in higher places’

Confused, I asked him ‘Such as?

‘The league for one, they’re pressuring me to relieve you both of your positions. They say you being hired in Italy is bringing unwanted attention. Not to mention the sponsors, our kit sponsor as you know have pulled out of the agreement because of your situation’

I didn’t know anything about that and was taken by surprise by it, so I just said ‘right, but we’re a pro club, playing well and progressing. You won’t be short of sponsorship offers I’m sure’

‘Be that as it may, I’ve got our accounts team pressuring me to make some moves and get more money into the club as sponsors are a big part of that, as I’m sure you know’ I did, so I let him continue ‘but I have full faith in you and the team and do believe we’re going to finish strongly by seasons end’

The meeting was going as I expected it would. We’re playing well and winning games and only lost a handful of times. As a club we’re in a better position than we were this time last season. We’re on course to reclaim the Coppa Lega trophy we won last season too, so it came as a bit of a shock to hear him say ‘but you need to know that every decision I make has the teams best interest at heart’

It was a bit of a weird thing to say and I instantly thought that I was getting sacked so I asked him ‘you’re sacking me?’

‘What?! Absolutely not Jock why would you think that?’

‘Oh, right, good, it’s just the way you said about having the teams best interest at heart got me worried’

‘Your job status isn’t going to be reviewed until the end of the season, and even then the way you’ve got the team playing we’re going to finish in the play offs I’m sure’

I felt a weird sense he was holding something from me so I asked him ‘is there anything I need to know? Anything that might affect the team going forward?’

His eyes shifted slightly before he said ‘No Jock, I’ve been honest with you from the start, if I hadn’t I would have terminated your contract already’

‘Right, it’s just this meeting hasn’t really covered anything other than we’re doing well, will probably finish in the play offs and my jobs safe for now’

‘Correct. Once we finish in the play offs and get the financial rewards for that we can get the club pushing on for automatic promotion next seasons can’t we’

‘Well one step at a time I think. Let’s get to the play offs this season first before talking about going up automatically next eh’

‘Yes but the sponsors are going to want assurances to want to pay us, so when we say we managed a playoff finish this season and the aim is to get promoted next season, we’ll be over run with sponsorship applications. I may even charge a fee to apply to sponsor us on the back of those aims’

‘That’s not my concern of course, but surely promising promotion next season without this season even ending may be the wrong call’

‘Leave the office side to me Jock and I’ll leave the playing side to you’ and on that the meeting ended. I felt a bit weird coming out of it, there was nothing discussed that I didn’t already know and he was being a bit shifty talking about money and sponsors. But I’ll take his lead and just stick to the playing side of the club.

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27/12/19 - conversation 2 of 3

That meeting was followed by a chat I had with Vamara Sanogo our main forward. I knew from the end of last season keeping him would be a struggle. Chinese side Changchun were credited with an interest in him and Polish side Katowice actually sent an enquiry to us, but I rejected it straight away. Small teams never really keep their best players unless they get promoted or go on a magical cup run do they. I mean we’re looking good for a play off finish at the minute, but do I genuinely believe we’ll get to Serie B just 1 season after promotion and surviving relegation in Serie C? No is the straight answer. A good top ten finish and a playoff run will do us the world of good but we are in no way ready to make that step up just yet.

With that in mind Sanogo came to me and told me that SM Caen in France are interested in him. I told him that’s not surprising, he’s good enough to go play in Ligue 2 and I wouldn't stand in his way to leave and go there, on 1 condition.

‘Before you tell me the condition, I would just like to point out that I greatly respect you and you have got my career back on track’

‘That’s great to hear Vammy I really appreciate it’ Between us, as you know Sanogo was just sprung on me, I never knew anything about him until the club signed him. I still never found out how that deal was done.

‘So what is the condition of the transfer?’

‘Well as you know and are a big part of, we’re looking like we’ll finish in the play offs’

‘Yes but I don’t think….’

‘Let me finish mate. You could go on to score 100 goals this season but I genuinely do not think we as a club are ready to play in Serie B, and I do not think we’d get through the play offs anyway’ He just looked and smiled as I continued ‘so here’s my condition. You stay with us until the end of the season, and if Caen or another team in France come in with a bid this month I’ll accept it but the deal goes through in June, what do you think?

‘Okay that sounds good to me. I do not want you to price me out of the move though…’ I cut him off

‘Way ahead of you. The club has benefitted from you being here already, but in terms of transfer fee, we paid 47 for you, so I think anything less than 200k would be an insult to us as a club and you as a player that’s improved every week since joining us’

‘Thank you, that’s a relief that’s all I needed to hear’

‘200k is fair and will benefit us and them. But as I have said all season so far, just keep playing like you have been, and we’ll be fine. Caen are in a similar position to us in that they’re in the top half of their league and will probably make that extra step next season’

We shook hands and he left the office and me to my thoughts. I knew this would be coming at some point anyway so was braced for it. Part of me was hoping the Changchun interest would come to something, they’d have a lot more money to spend and would pay any stupid price that we ask for, but Caen in France’s second division is nothing to turn your nose up at, and I’d be very happy for him going there and progressing a a player. 

Not only that but a fee of 200k would scratch my Moneyball itch just right. A profit of 153k plus a lot of games and goals from a player that hardly played in Poland. Plus the money will go towards getting a replacement in, win win all round.

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27/12/19 - conversation 3 of 3

As I was walking out of training that afternoon my phone rang and it was a number that hasn’t called me for some time

‘Well well well, long time no speak’

‘Hey you, how you been?’

‘I’m good, would be a lot better if I saw you though, what's it been, 18 maybe 19 months since I was whisked out of Turkey the last time I saw you?’

‘Something like that, we’ve spoke in that time though’

'Twice, once when I got to Milan and once not long after I got my feet under the desk here in San Marino. Not that I’m keeping track or have it in my mind’ A lie. I missed this woman quite a lot.

A soft giggle and then ‘behave you, us politicians are as busy as you football managers ya’ know’

After a few minutes of idle chatter she got to the point ‘look I’m sorry to spring this on you but Stefano has got money troubles, big money troubles’

‘I had a feeling there was something up with him when I saw him earlier’

‘I don’t want to sound like I’m stirring the pot here but he owes a lot of money out’

‘Right, so is that gonna affect me in any way?’

‘It might, I won’t lie. I’m not sure what, if anything he’s got leveraged against the club but it might affect the team somehow’

‘I really hope not. We’re doing well, Baz or the Doctor haven't’ done anything stupid in a while, the police have left me alone, even Guinness has been fine since he's been here, everything's going right’

‘It sure is, I’ve been keeping an eye on how you’ve been doing’ without giving me a chance to say anything she continued ‘and look, if anything Stefano does affects you or the team, don’t worry about it. I’ve got contacts in football you won’t struggle, I got you there at San Marino’

‘Struggle how? I asked, confused by this ‘We’ll get the play offs this season but don’t know how far we’ll go, but it’s a process. I’ve told Stefano that and that we’re not ready to go up yet anyway’

‘Just keep doing things as you have been and everything will work itself out. Speak soon’

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The betrayal

We’d had a good first half of the season heading into the new year. We did have a bit of a bumpy time from November though, 6 losses in the 12 games from November to end of December which is a concern considering we only had 3 in the previous 14 games

With that said we’re good for a play off place heading into a short break despite being way off automatic promotion. Our 36 points are 24 off unbeaten Ascoli in first place, but we are still in the Coppa Italia Lega Pro, the quarter final no less, going up against Venezia at the end of the month looking to defend it after winning the whole thing last season. That 2 legged final is still fresh in my memory.

There’s a lot to be optimistic about too. Against Reggiana Davide Murelli got his second goal of the season as we beat them again to remain unbeaten against them in my time at the club. His first being the opener in a routine 2-0 home win over Alto Adige earlier in the season. As well as those 2 he very nearly could’ve had a couple more against Fiorli, the team we signed him from in the summer. The second goal he got was from a corner in the Reggiana win, an in swinger from Severini to the near post he nodded in. 

In the Fiorli game the opening goal went down as an own goal. It was another near post corner which Davide got his head to, just the same as the goal against Reggiana in the game after this one, but the ball came off the defender marking him unluckily for both players. The second own goal from the same game was slightly different, this time an out swinger from the right by Severini went to the far post, Anibal heading it back across goal and young Murelli hit it on the half volley. This shot, while it took more technique, positioning  and precision than the header, also took a deflection on its way past the keeper for another own goal. Unlucky on both counts but shows the progress he’s made already. 

Sanogo is on 19 in the league so far and interest in him is still present. We’ve agreed we’ll accept any deal that is at least 200k from Caen and he will leave in the summer, but surprisingly no offers had come in for him from Caen or China as was reported. That was until the morning of 13th January.

I’d noticed a headline saying Dijon had made an offer of 140k to us and that had been accepted by the club. I thought this is just the media doing their usual tricks or that it would probably be Sanogo’s agent making things up to get more interest in him, which would mean more money for us, despite us agreeing 200k.

I didn’t think much else of it until Baz came storming up to me at training yelling ‘the fucking chairman’s accepted the offer for Sanogo’

‘Calm down sugar tits, we’ve agreed he’s leaving in the summer, don’t worry’

‘Don’t worry ya’ bollocks! He’s accepted it for 140 big ones and the guys off this week!’

‘Get to fuck’

‘Nah go speak to him yourself’

I did just that. I wasn’t on the war path just yet though although I soon would be. I went to his office with the intention to speak with Stefano about the rumored approach from Dijon in France and the transfer fee being accepted as Baz had said.

‘Yes the fee was accepted late last night’ Stefano said in the most laid back I couldn’t be arsed tone I’d ever heard out of him

‘Why wasn’t I told or even asked about this?! We had a…..’ he cut me off

‘The fee is nearly triple what we paid for him, it is a great offer’

‘Aye it is, but I’d agreed we’d sell him for no less than 200k!’

‘But I’m getting my money back plus interest on the player’

‘Right, but 140 is less than what I’d agreed with Vammy we’d sell him for’

‘I need the, I mean the club needs the money now Jock, I can’t hang around waiting for sponsors to agree to deal with us or the money from the play offs to come in’

Annoyed I said ‘I get that, but come on man, we won’t get anywhere near the playoffs without him’ I knew I was clutching at straws here so I said ‘look, I lied to you and to Sanogo when I said I don’t think we’d win the play offs’ the look on his coupon changed at this so I continued lying through my teeth ‘I said that as a motivational tool, to get them to perform even better, I know we’ll get a top 5 finish to get home advantage in the play offs and ya’ know what, I’ve had an epiphany that we’re going to win it. We just need to keep the squad as is until then. Sanogo won’t leave when we’re in Serie B will he’ There it was, a lie, a lie fabricated from desperation. Your move mister chairman.

‘I can’t leave this offer out there Jock. I need the money from the transfer now’

‘Dijon aren’t even a team Vammy would go to’ another lie, he’d not said he wouldn’t go there, they just weren’t interested in him when we spoke, at least not publicly ‘his hearts set on Caen for now’ I realised instantly this was the wrong thing to say so hastily added ‘until we get promoted in the summer of course then he’s staying with us’

He shook his head, took a sip of his coffee and said ‘I’m sorry Jock, this club is one of a few  businesses of mine and I’m doing the right thing for the business side of the club. I’ve got to make ends meet and…’

Fuming I cut him off before he could say anything else ‘make ends meet? The ends won’t fucking meet if you sell the clubs best player this month! I shouldn’t be reminding you he’s the highest scoring player in all of fucking Italy!’ True, he’d scored 24 in all competitions, more than Ciro Immoblie at Lazio with 14 league & 4 cup goals, Federico Parill, the young wonderkid Roma had signed from Boca Juniors this summer who’s on 13 league and 2 cup goals, and Raul Jimenez at Atalanta on loan from Newcastle, 12 league & 4 cup goals

I felt he was going to say something stupid, or spit out a load of business jargon to try and shut me up so I got up and said ‘I had a deal with Vammy, so I am going to smooth this out so we can honor that deal’

I got up and left before I gave him a chance to say anything else. I knew my hands were tied and that I would be fighting a losing battle, but I had to do something. As much as I want Sanogo staying, if he goes in the summer I’ll have longer to scout and sign a replacement, who probably won’t be as good but it’s better than having the less than 2 weeks left in January to do that in I currently have, and I don’t want to make a rash signing. 

As I stormed out the room, slamming the door behind me I took a moment to compose myself and think about what I was going to say to Sanogo when my phone rang. Usually I’d be happy to speak to Alexa but not at the minute ‘I’m sorry Alex I can’t talk right now darl, I don’t have…..’

‘You do have time for me, you always do, I know what’s going on. Don’t speak to Vamara, it’s a lost cause Jock you’re wasting your time. I need to tell you something’

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - One man's action, another man's reaction
 

‘How fucking much?!’ I asked Alexa again, despite her telling me three times already

‘But you must promise you won’t tell anyone Jock’ she said to me, a pleading tone in her voice

‘Well who does he owe, actually how does he owe that much money anyway’

‘Business loans for things like marketing, stock and so on. You don’t need to know, all you do need to know is he owes the money to quite a few people in Italy. People you really do not want to be upsetting’

‘Right, so fucking up his own teams chances by using money from it is gonna help him?’

‘It is a business he owns I suppose’

‘I get that, but what do I do? I can’t even be optimistic about keeping us in the play offs without Sanogo’ I said before adding ‘the tight cunts said only 23 grand is going back into the transfer fund from the sale’

‘I know that, that’s what I’ve already told you. I also said not to worry about a thing’

‘How can I not worry? If he’s taking things out of my hands and into…..’ she cut me off

‘He’ll do that until he’s paid his debts off. If you check your phone after this conversation you’ll see your name has been linked to a team in Spain’

‘I doubt Real are gonna wanna take me on’ I said trying to be funny

‘Not Madrid, not yet at least’

‘I’d turn Madrid down for Motherwell ya’ know’

‘I wouldn’t expect anything less, but the job in Spain is yours’

‘Right, there just happens to be a job opening up right at a time when my current role is up in the air’

‘San Marino just happened to come up when you needed it’

I didn’t know what to say to that comment other than ‘yeah I guess’

‘The team aren’t doing too well at the minute, although some of the players had lost faith in the boss who has just been sacked’

‘And my name is linked to a team there?

We spoke for a while longer and I kept thinking about what to do, so I told Alexa I’d think about it.

I got Baz and the Doctor together in the meeting room at the San Marino Stadium to let them know what I was thinking, and as expected Baz didn’t take the Sanogo transfer news too well
 

‘That little Mario and Luigi looking twat! He’s shafting us on purpose’

‘Aye Baz as I said…’ the Doctor cutting me off

‘Reminds me of that cunt Mike Ashely. Did ya’ nah he forced King Kev oot wor club cos of transfers an ahl’

‘Did I ever tell ya’s about the Stranraer chairman, he done summat to us with transfers one season too an’ all the cunt’

‘Aye Baz corse’ the Doctor started then said ‘ye’ just wanna get Stranraer into every bastarding conversation we have’

‘Massive club Stranraer mate’ 

‘Aye, aboot as big as Sun’lands under 9’s reserve side ya’ mug’ The Doctor said

Baz just rolled his eyes at this and carried on ‘so this new job then Jock lad, where’s it at?’

‘I didn’t wanna mention it, not yet anyway’ I put a hand up to stop Baz from butting in and continued ‘it’s change again. I’ve been here just short of 18 months, that’s the longest I’ve been at any job, not just football but my full life I don’t feel like I wanna just leave again’

‘But the chairman’s shafting us man’

‘He’s doing what’s right for the club. Without him we wouldn’t have a job’ I said trying to justify the chairman’s actions

‘Fuck him’ the Doctor said. Me and Baz just looked at him, waiting for him to continue

When he didn’t Baz said ‘well I’ve scuttled worse I guess. Are you being literal or not Bob?’

‘I swear yu’r the gayest straight gadge a’hve ever met!’

‘Right, look’ I said stopping these 2 from going at each for the next hour, which they’re wont to do ‘the job I’ve found, or has been found for me looks decent on paper but…’ Baz cutting me off as usual

‘Fuck it then we’re off. Where is it?’

When I told Baz and the Doctor both their eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas

‘You’ve got to be shitting me’ Baz said giggling

I shook my head and said nope. As I did they both started acting like little school children and started making plans for when we get there, what we’re going to be doing and how it’s all going to go, pretty much making all my plans for me. When I sat back down trying to decide what the best thing to do would be, Guinness had sat next to me, and I won’t lie I’d gotten use to not hearing Runner Up take a week saying hello that I’d forgot that Guinness was even here

‘You can’t be serious going there?’

‘Why not?’

He looked a bit uneasy before saying ‘well, I mean you with your, erm, issues like’

‘What fucking issues?’

‘Not issues, as in proper issues, I mean, it’s just you like getting on it don’t ya, and the amount of times you’ve got in trouble being spangled off ya' face on Molly or acid, especially with these loons here I mean’ he kept stammering between words as he tried to dig his way out of the hole he’d started digging

‘You sound like Runner Up stuttering all the time, sort yourself out you…’ I was gonna verbally assault him before he finally grew a pair and said ‘hang the fuck on ya' prick’ he stood up, I forgot he was nearly as tall as me, and with his red eyes and white hair he looks a bit menacing

‘I’m your pal right, not these 2 fucking low lifes (he nodded to the other side of the room) especially that Geordie fuck he don’t give 2 squirts of piss about you’

‘Fuck off ya’ pint of shit tasting beer’

‘Is that the best you’ve got?’

‘Obviously not, I’m just getting started. Go on say what you really think’ I was ready to start going for his throat at this point

He cracked his neck and said ‘As your friend, your only actual friend here’ I cut him off there

‘Sorry to but in, it is 1 of my pet hates, but if you’re my only friend how’s it taken you 3 and half years to come out here to me?’

‘You didn’t say a word when you fucked off to Ireland, I didn’t know you were in Turkey until the FBI went after you, me and Double 0 7 genuinely thought you were dead! The only time I’ve spoken to you since 2016 was at Stantons fucking funeral! The phone number we had of you hasn’t been used for years, you don’t use Facebook or Twitter. Anyway, back to my point’ He took a moment then said ‘The best way I can put it is like this. You’re a waster, Jock. A drunk. A substance abuser. A painkiller addict. Every time we used to see you’d be off your nut on some powder, or pill or whatever else. You’ve been ran out of Turkey cos you’ve been on it with that Geordie prick, fuck knows what Baz has even been doing here for the last 18 month other than getting steaming drunk out his brain every day and and fucking anything that charges a fee and that has a pulse. That Mark seems sound though, but it won’t be long before he sees you for what you really and gets a job at a club with a proper football manager that’s actually going places in their career’ all said with a venom I’ve never heard from him, and without taking much of a breath between words

‘Fuck me Guinness ya’ prick don’t hold back pal say what’s really on your mind won’t ya!’

‘Aye I will, pal, and I use the word pal loosely’

‘What the fuck has gotten up with you anyway where’s all this come from?’

‘You Jock, you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up to ya, got it’s muff out and face fucked you for a week and said my name’s Betty and I’m a good fucking thing! How many people just happen to walk into football, management at that, and actually do alright at it? I’ll tell ya how many, none, fucking none! And you just happen, somehow I’ll never know, but you’re doing alright. Winning a cup with San Marino, San MA-FUCKING-RINO!!’ and he stood up and walked out the room.

I just looked at him as he left, and wanted to swing for this bastard, but you know what, he’s right. I am a decent manager, I’ve won more games than I’ve lost, I’ve taken San Marino from relegation fodder last season to cup winners and probably play off bound this season, despite the chairman now deciding to fuck me over with money.

I said all I could think of saying to Guinness before he left the room ‘Okay, you’re right. You’re always right, I get it now’ and walked the opposite way to him, passed Baz and the Doctor in the corner with a pen and pad out writing down things and making plans for when we leave here, if I actually do leave, and I sign on at my new job, and on my way to Stefano’s office, where I’d have a decision to make.
 

Do I stay or do I go?

== == == == ==

Scotsman under investigation leaves Italian league side, reaction - ESPN Europe

Jumped or pushed? Match fixing probe continues in Italy as accused coach leaves San Marino based team - News of the World online

Motherwell native leaves club job amid match fixing rumors, refuses to comment - Scotland Today

Opioid painkiller and steroid distribution among the charges aimed at match fixing football coach who has finally been relieved of his duties as manager - MONDA Italia

Scot, born and bred in Motherwell, who we believe is innocent of rumors leaves current job, new job already lined up - The Motherwell Chronicle

Disgraced football coach travelling to Spain for new job - MARCA Sports

The Flying Scotsman has landed in Spain to take on surprising new job - East Scotland Fitba online

The Scottish Mail. Rory Simpson reporting.

Unknown Scottish football manager Jock McGhee has recently left his post as San Marino Calcio (football club) manager. The club, whilst based in San Marino, plays in the Italian league structure, much like Cardiff and Swansea of Wales play in the English league pyramid. The official word from the club is that Jock and the board had come to a mutual agreement, however sources close to the club have given conflicting information.

One source claims McGhee had been sacked due to mounting pressure from the Italian Football League regarding the ongoing match fixing scandal and other allegations aimed at McGhee. However another source close to Mister McGhee and his staff claim he left of his own accord due to disputes over transfer fees. Another source, apparently close to both parties say it is a mixture of pressure on the board which is now being pressed onto the manager and his staff, as well as the recent transfer of star player and leading scorer Vamara Sanogo to French side Dijon, and lack of investment which has caused the shock dismissal / resignation.

Shocking that it may be to some of McGhee’s leaving, although it was probably coming, claims Reggiana manager Leo Mechinini. San Marino had gained promotion to Serie C last season and were widely tipped to go straight back down. However shrewd transfers from the club, most notably the aforementioned Sanogo, to go with loan signings of Mirco Severini (from parent club Cesena), Fillipo Berardi (from Rimini), Guinea international players Pavel Vieira & Anibal on free transfers, to go with the signing of Jock McGhee as manager and his back room staff meant the club finished in 14th, well ahead of the automatic relegation places.

To go with the league survival Jock McGhee pulled off a real ‘Cinderella Man’ story as the club won the Coppa Italia Lega Pro, which can be likened to the Italian version of the Johnstones Paint Trophy in England, or the Irn Bru League Cup in Scotland, beating Reggiana in the final over 2 legs with an aggregate score of 4-5.

Despite the rumors of match fixing following Jock McGhee as he left Turkish side Etimesgut in June of 2018 to take the San Marino job, the club were praised for their performances in both the league and cup last season. The Italian FA have denied to comment on whether they did their own investigations into the match fixing allegations, although from what has been reported there is no hard evidence to confirm McGhee has indeed been involved in fixing matches.

There are also rumors McGhee has either taken performance enhancing drugs (PED’s) himself or distributed them to his players, this has come up in Turkey only and not in Italy or  San Marino, as well as being involved in a narcotics distribution ring. Again nothing has been proven on this count and is still just rumor and innuendo. Both accusations are still being investigated by the relevant authorities.
 

If everything is taken into account from his start as a manager in July 2016 at Northern Ireland club Bangor, to his dismissal / resignation from San Marino in January 2020 the argument could be made that his leaving isn’t all that surprising, though his rumored next steps might be. His timeline as a manager reads as follows:
 

• Hired by Bangor July 2016
   
• Sacked by Bangor June 2017. Club finished third in the third division, missing out on the automatic promotion place as well as the promotion play offs. Knocked out of the lower league trophy in the semi final.
   
• Hired by Ankara, Turkey based team Etimesgut FC August 2017
   
• Etimesgut sat fifth in the league heading into the winter break in December and are considered to be overachieving, leading to allegations online that some of their games had been fixed
   
• Jock is seen mingling with members of a Turkish political party multiple times over Christmas 2018 and New Year 2019. Rumors of match fixing start to pick up around this time although nothing explicitly relating to McGhee yet
   
• January 2018 the match fixing allegations are made public, with teams in Turkey, Spain, France, England and Greece being targeted
   
• Jock McGhee was interviewed by the FBI and Turkish police in February 2018. Nothing further comes from this interview at that time
   
• McGhee resigns suddenly as Etimesgut manager in June 2018. The team finished a respectable fifth but lost in the first round of the play offs to Aydinspor FC over 2 legs
   
• Almost as suddenly as his resignation from Etimesgut, McGhee is mentioned in various press releases across Europe as being involved in a narcotics distribution ring, as well as being involved in the political scene in Turkey which ties into the match fixing allegations. No comment from McGhee or Etimesgut at this time
   
• Jock is hired by San Marino Calcio in June 2018, newly promoted to Serie C in Italy, the third tier. Some reports say no due diligence was done on his hiring and that the ownership of the club is linked to the allegations aimed at McGhee. Nothing official is released to counter that point from either the club or McGhee
   
• At some point between being hired by San Marino and New Year 2019 Jock is apparently interviewed by the police, it is not disclosed if this is the Italian or Turkish police, as well as the FBI. No official comment from Jock or his employers on this was ever released
   
• 24 April 2019 was the second leg of the Coppa Italia Lega Pro and San Marino draw 2-2 away to Reggiana, but win the tie on aggregate 4-5 to win the cup. Jocks first trophy as a manager
   
• Jock McGhee and his first team coach David Barron are arrested by Scotland Yard in Aberdeen to be questioned about the match fixing allegations. Both are released pending further investigation, although neither are on bail or charged at that time
   
• From being arrested in May 2019 to January 2020 Jock remains out of the public eye in regards to the match fixing allegations. The San Marino squad is complemented with new signings, and they go on to sit 7th in the league in January 2020 and looking a safe bet to finish at worst in the play off places in Serie C
   
• January 2020 Jock McGhee is either sacked by or leaves San Marino of his own decision, depending on which source you read

Considering the above timeline, one assumes Jock to be a bang average football manager, however he has improved each season up until his leaving this month, but he does so with an ever growing spotlight around him. The spotlight in his case is a light of negativity and disturbing allegations, which beg the saying there’s no smoke without fire. A handful of Jocks former players have commented publicly on his leadership and management abilities and the general feeling is that he is liked by his players.

There are however a number of positives to come out of his short managerial career. Success stories from his 3 and a half years as a manager up to now include Fatih Aktay’s consistent goal scoring form in the 17/18 season. His 24 league goals helped Etimesgut to that play off finish, although this stat is tainted by the match fixing allegations. Aktay has gone on to first division side Osmanlı FC (managed by Patrick Vieira)  since leaving Etimesgut, not replicating that goal scoring form from his time with McGhee. In the time since leaving Etimesgut to January 2020 he has scored 8 league goals.

Emre Ozturk had a career resurgence under McGhee at Etimesgut as he posted his best season as a player, stat wise in the 17/18 campaign. He managed 18 goals and 20 assists. He joined McGhee at San Marino and was named the clubs vice captain and was a key part of the 14th place finish.

Ugur Turk played on loan from 1860 Munich to Etimesgut, scoring an impressive 9 goals in 13 games and has gone on to be a regular in the 1860 first team, managing 17 goals in 34 games last season and is currently on 12 goals in 21 appearances this season.

Vamara Sanogo, at the center of McGhee’s leaving San Marino has felt the biggest impact from McGhee’s management. From joining from Polish side Legia Warsaw to leaving for Dijon in France, he has played in 77 games and scored an eye watering 55 goals. Unfortunately for him this gained reputation, much like Aktay’s is soiled due to the match fixing allegations. If Sanogo, or Aktay for that matter can replicate this goal scoring form without McGhee will remain to be seen.

Anibal and Pavel Vieira are both regular Guinea international players since making the move to San Marino. Anibal scored the equaliser in the first leg of the cup final, and Vieira has played almost every possible minute under McGhee in San Marino since joining the club shortly after McGhee.

Mirco Severini, a squad player in his previous 3 seasons at Cesena & Santarcangelo is one of the reasons San Marino survived relegation last season, and along with Sanogo has been part of the successful first half of the season this. 2 goals and 13 assists, to go with 7 man of the match performances shows how good he has been under McGhee this term.

In closing, while Jock McGhee can still be classed as an up and coming manager at the age of 34, the fact remains is he has faced more negativity in his short career than a lot, if not most managers see in their full career. Match fixing, drug use and distribution, ties to political parties which may or may not be linked to the match fixing rumors are just the tip of the ever growing iceberg of this mans career. It doesn’t matter that he has won 35 of a possible 77 games in San Marino so far, or that the players that have spoken publicly like him and his assistant from his time in Turkey is still working with him now, and he has a loyal backroom team, the fact remains that bad press follow this man wherever he goes.

If the rumored approach from a club in Spain proves true, then the Spanish FA are implored to keep a close eye on that as yet unnamed club, as well as doing their own due diligence on this manager. His credentials aren't in doubt, at least not yet, it's everything else that surrounds him that is the issue.
 

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - It was all a dream

I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed was how bright it all is. I managed to stand up and find where the light was coming from so headed in that direction.

After a few moments or so I got to a set of gates with a sort of desk in front of them, and a small guy sat behind the desk who looked up as I approached

‘Name?’

‘Jock McGhee, who’s asking?

‘One moment’ he said and turned and looked at something I couldn’t quite make out entirety but looked like a stack of papers.

After 20 seconds or so he turned back around and said ‘ahh yes here we are, John McGhee, of Edin….’

I cut him off and said ‘erm, no pal, I said Jock not John’

‘Oh, my mistake. One moment’ he said with a smile and he went back to his stack of papers, then came back and said ‘right, sorry, Jock McGhee, account manager from 

Scotland’

‘What? Account manager, no I’m a football manager’

‘Accounts, football, what difference does it make now, eh? He said laughing and pointed ‘through the gate, last door on the left but don’t go peeking down the forbidden stairway’

‘Right’ I said and went through the gates. As I passed the first room on the left I couldn’t stop myself from looking in. I had a hard time believing it at first but I saw Homer Simpson laying back on a mattress, or was it a fluffy sofa bed? With a remote in his hand saying ‘cloud goes up, cloud goes down’ over and over whilst the fluffy sofa bed was going up and down in time with his words. 

At the other side of the room I noticed a sign that read - LANDMARK 1 of 12 and an arrow pointing with the caption FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. I looked at the way the arrow was pointing and the fountain of youth looked an awful lot like a kiddies water slide.

After that I walked by a coffee machine where 2 guys, clearly older than me were talking to each other, the shorter of the 2 I heard say ‘dammit Gordon no one wants to here your stupid Vietnam stories!’ to which the other, Gordon presumably said ‘shhhh will, you canny go around saying things like that’ ‘Why not’ the other quipped ‘Nam’s done and dusted ain’t it.

I walked on and saw a sign that read LANDMARK 3 of 12 and an arrow pointing to my right, which was pointing towards another room. I read the plague and it read ELYSIUM’S PETTING ZOO. I looked inside and there was a child riding a unicorn, Spyro the Dragon was letting other kids stroke him and I even saw a Griffin getting a belly rub from someone that looks like the guy from the Witcher games. As I walked on I also noticed a set of stairs on my right that was closed off with a red stop sign with the words HALT NO ENTRY printed on it, and couldn't stop myself walking closer to get a look

‘Told you not to look’ the guy from the front of the gates said as he appeared out of nowhere, like Leb usually does.

‘Sorry, couldn’t help myself. What’s down there?’ I nodded toward the blocked off stairs

‘Oh that’ he says, hesitating ‘that’s where you go if you don’t get accepted up here. It’s a long way down’

‘Right, where are we again?’

‘Not in heck that’s for sure’ he said laughing

‘Right’

‘Can’t say what the mortal’s usually call it, where the red guy lives. The boss doesn't allow curse words up here’

'Okay, what happened to the second landmark? I passed the first and there’s the third’

‘Oh that, it’s in for repairs’

‘What is it?’

‘The halo hula hoop park. One of the dancers got a bit carried away when Freddie came by for karaoke night, and well, it’s out of action for now’

I just nodded, not really knowing what else to say  as I carried on walking, the short guy following me, and made our way to the last door on the left. This one was a bit less elegant than the others that I’d passed, and it just had a sign on it saying NEW ARRIVALS in blue ink. We went in and the guy sat behind the desk in the room and pulled out a laptop.

‘Remind me, McGirk wasn’t it?’

‘McGhee. As in Mc Ghee’

‘Right, John was it?’

‘Fuck sake mate, no, Jock. J-O-C-K’

‘Whoa whoa whoa, don’t say any curse words, you’ll get sent down there’ he said shifting his eyes left to right ‘if the big guy hears ya’ you’ll know about it’ I just composed myself as he pulled out a box from the under the table, rifled through it and said ‘right you are, McGhee, Scottish, account manager. Looks like you had a long career here’

‘Right, yeah I did, I guess’

‘So pig farming eh, in Oklahoma in America’

‘America?

‘Yes, United States of, to be precise’

‘I’ve never been to America, but I have been in some states hahaha’ I said, no reaction from the guy. ‘Get it, some states? Some absolutely tragic states an all. Come on man you must get it’

He didn’t look amused before saying ‘Tragic accident it says here. What happened?’

‘Never been pig farming, been on some chicks you could call a pig, but never as a job’

‘Okay, maybe the trauma has erased that part of your memory and that it's.…’

I cut him off ‘whoa hang on pal, my memory hasn’t been erased’

‘Okay, well I need to go over your file before I can let you in, procedure you know, you get it I’m sure’ not waiting for a response he continued on ‘so you had some big contracts, spent a lot of money, other peoples money of course, being an account manager’

‘Well transfers and agent fees I never pay out my own pocket, not on principle I just can’t afford it, but then again when we signed Sanogo I don’t know what went to his agent, I didn’t know much about that deal anyway but it worked out alright in the end’

‘And this slight blemish on your record, the one about financial mishaps, can you shed any light on this?’

‘Oh aye, nout to do with me that one pal. The only transfer fee I’ve spent so far is on the young lad Murelli, signed from Fiorli and what a boy he is’

‘I’m not sure what that relates to in your file, it just says there has been some unanswered transactions during your career that never got cleared up, down there I mean, so we need to get to the bottom of it really’

‘Ooooh you must mean the match fixing bollocks right I’ve…’

Cut off ‘The swearing must end John, otherwise I can’t let you through regardless of your record’

‘Right, sorry, and it’s Jock not John’ He nodded and wrote something down so I carried on ‘I never had anything to do with fixing the games. My pal, the Doctor, Bob Robson he’s probably in your file as, he was apparently behind it in Turkey but he wasn’t. He’s a waster and a wreck head but he can’t fix a decent cup of tea so he definitely couldn’t fix football games. Mark and Baz, my 2 most trusted colleagues they definitely weren't in on it either’

‘Okay, so you’re denying all accountability for the laundering of government funds into and out of Langley, Washington?’

‘I’ve told you I’ve never been to America. Also you keep calling me John, are you sure you’ve got my details right?’

‘Yes I’m absolutely sure. Let’s go over then together’ he took a moment then said 'just nod for correct or shake your head for incorrect to each of these questions.

I nodded

‘John Albert McGhee’

Shake

‘Arbroath Scotland’

Shake

‘3 children’

Shake and a look of anger on my coupon

’Married 4 times to 3 different women’

Shake

‘Interests include trains, Tupperware and vintage Primark brand clothes’

A lot of head shakes at that one

‘Right, let me just check with the girls on this, 1 moment’ and he went through the door to the back of the desk. It was about a minute, minute and a half before he popped back through and said ‘okay, the big guy will see you now’

‘Right on’ I said and walked through the door. The next room was deceptively big. The door was only small but the room opened up and I saw a throne about 30 yards in front of me, a guy was wearing a pair of neon purple shutter shade glasses, like those Kanye used to wear before he turned weird, a wife beater vest, his arms had tattoos all up them, a pair of black shorts and a pair of Lacoste sandals on. I couldn’t make out his face but he said in a strong Geordie accent NOW THEN BONNY LAD. NOW IS YOUR TIME

I thought here we go again, it’s the bloody Doctor and another of his antics, but the figure in the chair said YOU SEEM TO HAVE PLENTY OF WOMEN IN YOUR SHORT LIFE. 4 MARRIAGES TO 3 WOMEN. YOUR CHILDREN HAVE DISOWNED YOU AND YOU WERE EXPELLED AND BARRED FROM 5 FOOTBALL GROUNDS. I WILL NEED CONVINCING OF YOUR…..

I cut him off ‘whoa there pal. Firstly, I ain’t got any kids, none that I know of. Plenty of people have disowned me though. Second, I haven’t been married and don’t intend to, not any time soon, I’ve not been barred from any football grounds that would make my job quite hard wouldn’t it’

WHY WOULD BEING BARRED FROM A FOOTBALL GROUND MAKE AN ACCOUNTANTS JOB HARD?

‘I’m not a fucking accountant! I’m a football manager, and before this little episode I was on my way to a new job in Spain’

DON’T USE LANGUAGE LIKE THAT IN FRONT OF YOUR MAKER

‘Sorry’

IT’S OKAY. THIS IS A LOT TO PROCESS.

‘But I’m a football manager, nothing to do with accounts’

OKAY LET ME CHECK SOMETHING

He disappeared from the throne but came back 2 moments later

IT SEEMS THERE HAS BEEN A MISTAKE. NEW ANGELS IN PROCESSING. WE HAVE TO GIVE THEM ON THE JOB LEARNING NO TIME FOR ANY CLASSROOM STUFF. LOTS OF NEW ARRIVALS DAILY. YOU ARE JOCK MCGHEE FROM MOTHERWELL CORRECT

‘Aye’

OKAY. I AM CHECKING THE RECORDS HERE. FIRSTLY, NOW IS NOT YOUR TIME. BUT MY WORD WE DO HAVE A GOOD ONE COMING IN WHEN YOUR TIME IS UPON YOU

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

IT SAYS HERE AFTER YOU LEFT SAN MARINO YOUR CAREER REALLY TOOK OFF AND YOU WERE…

I cut him off ‘whoa don’t tell me what happens after San Marino! I’m just on my way out and I've not even started in Spain yet

MY BAD. IT DOES LOOK GOOD THOUGH. COUPLE OF RED MARKS HERE AND THERE. A LOT OF UPS AND DOWNS. OH I BEST NOT READ THAT PART OUT LOUD JUST IN CASE YOU STEW ON IT

‘Appreciate it, so can I get going now? I’ve got a plane to catch’

OH YES PLEASE DO. WE WILL SPEAK AGAIN THOUGH JOCK. NOT FOR SOME TIME BUT WE WILL, EVENTUALLY.

And with that I left the room, woke up in my flat in downtown San Marino, Baz was yelling ‘get up ya’ prick, we’ve gotta make that stop before we head off to the airport!!’

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - What will be, will be

‘I’m still not sure’ I said, still wrestling with the idea of more change ‘if it is the right thing or not?’

‘There are pros and cons to every one of life's moments’ he started ‘and for any person in any job, especially for every football manager there’s the job that makes you, the one that gets your name out there and gets you recognized as the new shining star of the job I’m sure. The job that you do well in that shows you’ve got the sagacity, the aptitu….’ he was cut off

‘What tha’ fuck does sagacity mean?!’ the Doctor quipped

‘Shut up ya’ doss cunt let the man finish’ Baz said angrily

‘It means wisdom, something young Mister Robson lacks’ the man said looking at the Doctor as Baz chuckled. The man carried on ‘as I was saying, there’s that one job that shows everyone you’ve got the aptitude to make you stand out from the rest of your peers’ he took a moment, had a sip of water and continued ‘it seems as though the job here in San Marino was that job for you Jock’

‘Right, but no one will look at it like I did a good thing here, or at Etimesgut because of the f*cking match fixing sh*te’

‘Ahh but one has to look past other people's feelings, and keep his own at the forefront of his mind’

‘Heya he’s proper radgy this auld gadge in’t he Baz’ the Doctor said whilst picking up a book and taking a look inside it

‘Pass us that here’ Baz said and snatched the book, then said ‘ahh the Bible, I’ve read this one, the guy comes back at the end, don’t he Father’

‘Nice one Baz y’uve gan and spoilt it fur us ya' prick, ah wa’ gannin’ to read tha’ on the flight ower’

‘Corse ya’ were you silly twat, you can’t even read!’

‘Gentlemen, I believe we’re here to discuss with Jock and the move over to Spain?’

‘Aye corse Father my bad, but I’m going too like, I’m on the coaching staff’ Baz said in a look at me sort of way, the same way a child does when they’ve done something good, like a paint by numbers picture

‘Aye, and Mark, and Luca and Matteo, they’re coming an a’hl’ the Doctor said and carried on ‘cannit forget the boy Armando can we, he’s a pure loon Father he’s joining us on this mission, Marco the center half turned scout he’s comin’ ah’long fur the sesh, the Turkish lad an a’hl, cannit remember his name help us oot Baz’

‘Emre?’

‘Nah he’s stayin’ he’s been made chief scout, the other fella, short gadge with a temper, great hair, howay man you know who I mean’

‘Nah can’t say I do Bob’

‘You mean Zafer?’ I said trying to get the conversation finished

‘Aye that’s him Zaffa he’s comin’ with, an’ the 2 youth team lads they’re comin’, oh how can I forget Raymondo he’s comin’ too, he said I owe him a thousand Euro for a game on Fifa tha’ other week, we did 100 Euro a goal, I let him win 10-0’

‘Yeah right, he smashed you I was there, you were Newcastle and he was Bristol City, remind me when we get there to play you on it again you’re terrible’

‘Lads shut it will ya, this is our last day here, make the most of it eh’ I said, and as I did they got up and left the pews in the church of Saint Peter.

‘Now, where were we?’ Father Domenico asked and continued on ‘I’m not going to try and change your mind, or try and justify your decisions my son, but this job, from what you’ve told me is more like a project than just another job’

‘It is that. The lass that sorted it for me, she reckons there’s change coming, and by the end of the season there’s gonna be things in place to get the club promoted’

‘Well then treat it as such. San Marino could be the one that got your name out there, positively or not, and this new job could be the job that shows you have the mental capacity to take a role on anywhere, as evidenced in your working in multiple countries, that you have the get up and go, the drive to make you stand out from everyone else. This could be the one that makes you Jock’

I spent a bit more time with the Father in the church, more out of curiosity than anything else, and by the time I left I thought leaving San Marino was the right thing to do. While discussing the job with Alexa and the board at the club in Spain, it was apparent that this would quite different from my time in San Marino.

Alexa had told me the club would be getting taken over by someone else before the season has ended. The reason for this, she tells me, is that the new ownership are going to be doing everything they can to get the club promoted, and the incoming chairman, on the back of being recommended to him, has had his eye on me for the past 6 months.

As we’ve been doing well in San Marino is just a coincidence I’m sure, but the fact that I’ve been wanted is certainly pleasing, considering what’s been going on.

Before leaving for the church I said my goodbyes to the San Marino players and the staff that wouldn’t be making the move to Spain with me. I had the players all line up for 1 last match instead of training. We didn’t do any tactics related stuff, or fitness or anything like that it was just a straight up game, I swapped players around here and there and it was fun just watching the boys have a kick around with no pressure.

As the game ended I shook every players hand and spoke discreetly to a couple who might be interested in coming with me. Obviously not very ethical and probably could be classed as tapping up, I just thought why not ask on my way out. The main 2 I asked were certainly intrigued by the move as well as a couple others, but nothing could be done until the summer. I knew leaving here and rocking up in Spain I’d have to deal with the team already there, and transfers would have to wait until the end of the season.
 

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. As part of the process of me leaving San Marino and joining my new team, I was asked by the current chairman, with input from the future chairman and board members about bringing my own backroom staff with me. At first I thought nothing of it, but Mark had said he’s coming with me & Baz, no matter how hard I’d try and lose him he’d find a way to tag along. When I had explained to the rest of the back room staff why I’m leaving and that the chairman is in money troubles, most of them in San Marino wanted to come with me for the next job. The list of staff joining me is:

• Mark Jaul - assistant manager
   
• David (Baz) Barron - first team coach
   
• Matteo Padovan - first team coach
   
• Raimondo Taras - first team coach
   
• Mirko Stefani - Under 19’s coach
   
• Alessandro Signorini - under 19’s assistant manager (current San Marino U23’s assistant)
   
• Luca Caboni - director of football
   
• Marco Gorzengo - scout
   
• Armando Perna - scout
   
• Zafer Sercek - scout
   
• Silvio Viligiardi - head of sports science

There were a couple of reasons why I wanted to bring just about the full team with me. The first idea was that I wanted people with me I can trust, so Mark and Baz fit that bill, Marco was a key player last season and became a scout for me so he can be trusted. Regarding Matteo and Raimondo they were at San Marino when I joined but we forged a great working relationship, and I wanted coaches that knew the tactics and the way I want training to be structured. We’re going with the 4-4-2 set up right away in Spain, I’ve looked at the team and already know my starters for the next 6 months. From the summer though, well that’ll be explained as we move on, things will be somewhat different.
 

Mirko, Alessandro and Luca are going to be in charge of the youth system when we get there. There is money to spend but I want to be able to work with the youth players and get them prioritized (Moneyball innit!), and having both of my youth team staff looking after them I can be confident. Luca is also going to be in charge of the scouting side of things as well. And as for young Silvio, well he sort of just turned up 1 day with the Doctor and said he’s a sports scientist, and he gives us regular reports on injuries and rehab and stuff. He’s a nice kid and I felt bad not asking him if he fancied coming along, so that’s why he’s joining us.

Finally, other than Baz and Mark who have both said they’re coming with me no matter where I end up, the rest felt coming with me would be the best thing for them personally and financially. Stefano came and spoke to us all before we did leave and confirmed he’s got money worries and that’s why he didn’t put up much of a fight for us either, and get this, all of us had some compensation paid for our services due to having time left on our contracts so he got money from us leaving! 
 

I do think, and I say this with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience, San Marino are going to struggle. Not only because I’m leaving but because there’s no direction if the chairman is going to constantly spunk the money up the wall. It does give me an idea for summer recruitment though and I know which players have expiring contracts and release clauses, so more on that as we get through the next few months.

But for now we leave the club in a much better place than it was 18 short months ago when I signed, to pastures new.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - No tellin' where this felon is headin'

I looked out of the window as the plane finally touched down on the tarmac, the echo of the wheels hitting the ground thundered through the cabin. ‘We’re here, we’re finally fucking here’ yelled Baz in an excited way I don’t think I’ve ever seen out of him. Even before I got off the plane I could tell the weather was scorching hot. My cheap shirt, Yankees cap (worn backwards) and Nike shorts would be doing the bare minimum to stop me sweating in the coming heat.

The club had arranged transfers from the airport to a housing complex not far from the stadium for me and my staff. By the time we’d landed and made it to the houses I was dripping buckets ‘I’m sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish market here man’ the Doctor quipped before adding ‘when we off the boozer than? I’m hangin' for a pint like’

‘Soon man, we’ve only just got here’ I said and adding ‘I need a shower, to get changed and we’ll have to meet the people from the club at some point too’

‘Ahh to bollocks wi' yous lot I’m off’ and he dropped his solitary duffel bag and left the room.

I got to the stadium, a short 5 minute walk from the house, and it wasn’t much to look at really. Slightly bigger than the San Marino Stadium at 4,000 seats, exactly 1,000 more than my previous home ground, it looked to be in okay shape, although the groundsman I met on my way in had told me, in broken English, that the ground hasn’t seen much glory over the years, even before this club was formed from the remnant of the previously disbanded team.

I wasn’t about to get into the history of the club, not yet anyway, so I left the guy to his sweeping and made my way into the stadium via a door with a sign above it that read jugador del equipo local y entrada de personal. My limited Spanish picking up jugador as player and entrada as entrance or entry.

This wasn’t a job I took on for redemption or even career progression at the minute, in all fairness it was probably a sideways step, leaning slightly down. I left San Marino in the third division in 7th place in group B of four groups. I was joining a team in the Spanish division, so the same tier in a different country, and also in the league’s group 3 of 4. Although they sit 15th upon my arrival, 3 points above the relegation zone.

I was asked in a Skype meeting upon accepting the job what my career aims are. Right off the bat I said I want to manage Motherwell. All young lads want to play for the team they support, and as a manager I’m no different. The incoming chairman had said ‘before then, you’ll need to build your name up, tell me, coming into the club I am going to be running before the end of the season, what do you think you can do with the team based off what we’ve told you?’ 

I thought about it for a few moments, and thought of the things Alexa had told me before having this interview. Buzz words like project, development, prosper and sustainability were mentioned and Alexa had convinced me the incoming leadership team as they’re known, would be building this club up for success, and I answered bluntly by saying ‘well we need to survive relegation first’. This appeased the new boss, he then said ‘and then what? What does season 2 look like to you? How will you build the team? Have you any plans for tactics, or transfers in the coming seasons?’

‘Ideally I want players I can trust, and that will improve this team’ was my first answer ‘people like Severini and Anibal who are key players for me in San Marino, they’re both good enough to come here from the end of this season and push this club on towards progression’ not really expecting that to be expanded on, I was shocked when the new boss replied

‘You think a promotion challenge is in reach for next season?’

‘Absolutely’ I said without hesitation but with a silent hint of doubt. I’m at a point in my career where I answer people with things I think they’ll want to hear. A bit of naivety on my part possibly, but I’m still being investigated for a crime I didn’t commit. I continued ‘I thought about it before attending this meeting, and if I don’t aim to get this club promoted, or if I’m just happy being a secure third division team then what will the players think? No one will put any effort in, no other players will want to join if we’ve not got a clear direction’

As a team this club had danced a bit too close to the flame, singed by the lure of night time antics, nefarious activities and quick cash at the bookmakers this place is known for, so the outgoing chairman had told me privately, and 1 of the few reasons he was selling was because he needed the money and could no longer afford to fund the clubs progression. The incoming chairman called the current board a motley crew of yes men and sycophants. But he assures me, as did Alexa, that the new board members coming in are there to ensure the club is in the best possible hands to make progress. I was a bit cautious that I’m leaving working for a chairman with money troubles to coming in and working with another with money issues, despite this new boss of mine being temporary and leaving before the season ends.

I didn’t want to, but I felt obliged to ask him about the match fixing allegations I’d been caught up in. He was gracious enough to say ‘I agree with the San Marino chairman, you’re innocent until proven guilty, but we want you as the first team manager based on your football credentials, not your reputation in the media’ I wondered what these credentials were, surely a lower league trophy in Italy wouldn’t be enough to be classed as credentials?

But from having that initial meeting a couple of weeks ago to today, I found the boardroom eventually, and walked in. The current chairman Antonio Perez was sat there, as was the soon to be installed chairman Gerard Hernandez. Antonio welcomed me with a hand shake said ‘welcome Jock, I for one am happy that you’re here, and look forward to you steering this club away from relegation, in time for Gerard to come in and progress the club forward’

He didn’t look anything like I was expecting. He was a shorter man than me, wearing a shirt fully unbuttoned and balding. He was maybe in his early forties I guessed. ‘I’m happy to have been offered the job, thank you both’ I replied with a smile

‘Your staff are with you?’

‘They’re here, mostly. Settling in at the minute. We’ll meet up and start things properly tomorrow’

Gerard then said ‘I’ve told you this already, but I’ll say it again. I wanted someone that could achieve things with a modest budget and keeping expectations to a manageable level. I like what you did in San Marino, taking a no hope club away from relegation and winning the cup. I liked that you have had the team in the playoffs all season so far. It is convenient for me that the chairman there has money worries that would affect your job there’ I didn’t really know what to say, so I just smiled, and he continued ‘I’m not expecting overnight success, but you seem to be able to get a team of no named players and turn them around in a short space of time. I can assure you that we’ll support you all the way and realise the dream of taking this club places’ Another person I didn’t think looked anything like what I was expecting. He was as tall as me, skin sun tanned from years in Spain and a face that looked carved from granite. I felt I was going to get along with this man.

We went for a short walk around the island, a place I’d never been before. I was taking in all the vibrant colours and the salty scent of the Mediterranean air. My old man had told me that the island was a contradiction, a paradise masking a battleground. How? I asked him. He said the line between right and wrong in that place is as thin as a game of Chinese whispers. I didn’t push him on it any further. He just said congratulations on getting a new job, but wished it were somewhere more reputable and less of a negative environment.

We walked down some windy streets opposite plenty of sun soaked and sandy beaches, I was already planning my first day off down there on the beach. I noticed a nightclub called The Velvet, a spot I’m sure the Doctor has already earmarked as a destination we’re going to be frequenting.

Gerard said ‘now that it’s just us, I want you to know I don’t normally put as much faith in people as I have with you’ his English as close to perfect as can be for someone whose first language is Spanish

‘Why am I so lucky?’

‘Alexa and her colleagues, the ones who helped set up my purchase of the club, they think very highly of you’

‘All that about my credentials, that was bullshit?’

‘Oh no Jock, I meant what I said. I do rate you as a manager and do believe you’re going to take this club, my club to the next level. If you go on to become an elite manager and move on for better things, I am sure you’re going to leave the club in a better place than it was today when you arrived’

‘I’m flattered, and honored actually. I’ll give everything I’ve got for this team. I need success as much as you’

We left it at that and went our separate ways for the day. I felt leaving him that afternoon that our relationship, and time at the club is going to be a success, match fixing allegations be damned. But I was here now and ready to get to work. I went into a corner shop for a can of Red Bull, and as I made my way to the left side of the store, there was one of those little metal newspaper stands you see outside newsagents in Scotland that read:

El Escocés acepta el puesto en Ibiza y habla el presidente entrant

I translated it on my phone as Scotsman agrees Ibiza job, incoming chairman speaks. 
 

Ibiza, the party island of the world, where hedonism, constant drug use and bad vibes are rampant. And it’s where Jock McGhee is about to start work.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The party island

On the morning of my first day at the club, I sat with Baz and Mark and had a look at how things had been going at the club

‘Struggling I think is the best way to put it Jock’ Mark said

‘Agreed. But I’ll never say no to a challenge’

‘No, me too, this is why I’m here, I am sure we can have a positive impact here'

‘I’ve read a bit online about the team, seems there’s commitment issues and a toxic environment’

‘How you playing it when we get there? Baz asked in a confrontational way I’ve seen from him too many times before.

‘Firm probably, no point fannying around’ I said and pulled out the team report and said ‘looks like the clubs got a lot of problems on it’s hands, but between ….’ Baz cut me off

‘Problems are our specialty pal, let’s see what we can do to solve the problems in Ibiza eh’ 
 

'Aye' I said before continuing with 'that's easy for you to say, being the loveable fuck up of our little crew' he didn't bite, I wouldn't have expected him to in any case, and with that the 3 of us left for the stadium.

As I walked onto the pitch at my new home ground, Can Misses, the players were all waiting for me, their new boss. I walked over with a swagger in my step, a Yankees cap on backwards, a Tommy Vercetti style shirt, opened up of course, a pair of jean shorts and some Adidas sandals. Baz was wearing a Straraer training top, because it's blue he said, and Ibiza play in blue. I didn't wanna argue with him. Mark was all business, in a smart polo, chino's and brown shoes.

‘Buenos dias mi agios’ I said, smiling. ‘Me, Jock, el grandio plan is in progressio’ I said before chipping a ball up with my left, doing 3 keepy uppies and then volleying it toward the nearest goal. As it came down it pinged the crossbar as it went towards the advertisement hoardings of a local brewery and I said  ‘See. Me. Mucho good’ in that stupid dumbed down way us Brits talk to people whose first language isn’t English. No reaction from my new team.

I looked around at them all, looked at Baz and Mark who just shrugged so I said ‘right, fuck it, yous don’t know me and I sure as shit don’t know any of you lot. What I do know is you’re pissing this season right up the fucking wall and I aren’t coming here to get relegated. You best buck your ideas up and buck em’ up quick!’ Baz turned to Mark and I heard him ay ‘fuck yes my guy’ Mark just shook his and put his finger on his lip to shut Baz up.

One of the remaining members of staff, fitness coach Cesar Vicente, speaks in Spanish towards the players, and a few of them look back at me in a sheepish sort of way, and 1 of them, I didn’t catch who spoke to Cesar as I made my way over to Baz and Mark.

After having a quick chat with them 2 I asked Cesar ‘what did they say?’

‘Oh you know, they like you, they believe in you, they don’t care that you fixed matches before, that kind of thing’

‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘Oh no no no they fully on board Jock’ Something tells me he’s lying.

As a club Ibiza haven’t been going for too long. The last club liquidated some years ago and this new version of the club has been going since July 2015. They were promoted via the play offs last season much like San Marino were prior to my joining that club. This season hasn’t gone to plan really, hence the previous guy getting the boot and the task of securing survival being handed to me. We sit 15th of 20 in the league on 27 points, with a 3 point cushion from the relegation places.

Going forward doesn’t cause me too much of an issue at the minute. The team has scored 32 league goals in the 21 played, which is only 5 off top place Benidorm who have managed 37. At the back the team have conceded 33 in the 21 league games which gives us the best goal difference of the bottom 6 teams. But the 8 losses in a row up to me coming in is what worries me.

The last win came on 1st December last year, it’s the 25th of January 2020 now! But due to international friendlies taking place we’ve had a few weeks break since the last game, a 4-5 home loss. However if we look deeper into it, the team have only conceded 1 goal from set plays in all competitions so far which is the best in the country no less, silver linings and all that. We’re also still a part of the Copa Federación de España, which is just like the Copa Lega Pro I won in San Marino last season, the lower league cup, although we are losing 1-0 on aggregate to Ebro.

From meeting the players I went and spoke to Antonio Navarro, who is the clubs chief scout, and he introduced me to the rest of the staff, well the staff that didn’t leave when my predecessor was sacked. With most of my staff joining me from San Marino, we do have a vacancy for a goalkeeper coach which I’ll touch on another day, but the club has retained the services of their head of youth development, the manager and a coach for the under 19’s. I speak to the head of youth development first, Ellman Orellana who is from El Salvador and speaks really good English. I tell him he’ll be working with Luca Carboni, the director of football who has come with me and then we outline our plans for the development of the youth players. Aitor Ramos and Oscar Martinez, the under 19’s manager and coach respectively, are also part of the conversation about developing the youth players this season. Weirdly or not, but Oscar is also from El Salvador.

Antonio is also informed of his working with Luca from now on, although privately I toy with the idea of bringing my own chief scout in at some point. But for now we’ll see how things go.

Back to working on the team, as Gerard had told me prior to me joining the club they’d signed a very promising center half by the name of Adilço Aragão, on loan from Real Madrid no less. He’d told me he had some business dealings with people at Real and had a good working relationship with some important people there. I wouldn’t be moaning about the club making this particular signing, I’m curious if we can get any more young players on loan from them in the coming transfer windows! I just hope in my new boss, and future new boss when the takeover is complete that neither start selling any players without my consent.

Young Adilço reminds me of Davide Murelli who I signed in San Marino, although this kids a lot better already! He’s the same sort of height at 5 feet 10, but whereas Davide could jump and is aggressive,  Adilço is more technical and looks like a ball player defender. I’m looking forward to working with him, and if he goes on to play in the first team at Real Madrid I could say I had a hand in his development.

As for other players in the team, we’ve got a decent set of central midfielders in David Hinojosa & Sulayman Marreh, although I’m not sure if they’ve been playing as well as they could be due to the poor league position and run of form.

Filipe Marques is another central midfielder who is on loan from Rayo Vallecano and from what the renaming staff tell me he’s probably worth giving a shot in the first team, he’s not going to be much worse than the players ahead of him that have played much of the season already.

With the couple of loaned in players the club actually boast a hot prospect on the books, in the form of right full back Franco Acuña. He can play on the left as well, is pretty quick, can put a decent tackle in already and has team player written all over him. That’s about it though and he’s going to need some work to really improve and get into the line up consistently

I inform Luca and Antonio of 2 players I want to be scouted fully and properly with the intention of being signed in the summer. Before those 2 assignments got underway Antonio confirmed the club had already signed a young player based on the head of youth developments recommendations. Before seeing this player and the report, I let him know that the responsibility of signing youth players now lies with Luca. I know I can trust his judgement and any that he’s not sure on he’ll speak to me or Mark anyway.

The player in question is Dikembe Mbomio, a full back from Equatorial Guinea, who we have signed on a free transfer. Do we need another full back? Maybe as back up for now. Naturally left footed but is competent in a lot of positions, he’s quick and has a great first touch but that’s it as far as ability goes for now. I’m sure Ellman and the other youth staff I’ve brought with me here can improve young Dikembe, as well as the other youth players here and who we’re likely to be signing in the coming months.

I let Mark and Baz take training and let me know their thoughts ahead of our first game in 2 days time. The return leg of the second round of the lower league cup, against Ebro. We’re losing 1-0 on aggregate but this will be a good first test for me as I start the next leg in my career.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Ibiza calling

‘Quatro quatro dos lads. Yous back quatro just stay back and do nout flash, yous quatro in the middle run around like loons on fet and never stop, and you dos big units up top bury the ball every chance we get, simple right amigos’ Baz was saying to the players as we were putting the finishing touches on our warm up prior to our cup match.

Ebro, a team I don't think I’ve ever heard of came to the island looking to take advantage of the 1-0 aggregate lead they got before I got to Ibiza. This is a fresh start for me, but this group of players, bar the young lad from Madrid in defence, have all played enough times this season and I’ve told the players this is a turning point for all of us.

As I don’t really have much of a clue about each players strengths and weaknesses other than a handful of reports from the 3 remaining members of staff and a few scathing posts online, I let captain Omar Hernandez assist me in picking the team, although I tell him it must be 4-4-2. Next season will be a variation of this based on our transfer targets, but for now it’s the tried and tested set up of 2 banks of 4 and a duo up top.

The idea was just play simple football, not that many, if any of the players in the Spanish third division would be very technical anyway

The game kicks off and you wouldn’t believe me if I said this team had lost 8 on the spin. They looked confident passing the ball around, a few poor touches here and there but nothing to be concerned with. And when I say passing around, I mean they were long passing like when you hold L1 and circle on Fifa, but we played well and deservedly took the lead after 11 minutes. A perfect cross rom the left from winger Calvillo, David Grande let the ball come to him inside right channel, took a touch and placed it by the keeper.

I praised the lads and told them not to let up and the message got across I think. Right sided winger Cristian Herrera found himself cutting in onto his left foot but drove centrally, Grande this time going out to the left as his strike partner Mario Barco went to the right, both taking a defender with them. When Grande’s marker decided to go for Herrera, our winger laid it off to Grande who hit it first time and buried it, 2-0 on the day, 2-1 to us in the tie and looking comfortable.

We kept pushing on not looking like a team in the bottom half of the league or a side that's lost 8 on the bounce either. As Barco wanted to get in on the action he peeled away from the defender who not only lost his man but lost his cool as he pushed Barco in the back. The ref did look at the lino who had already waved his flag and gave us the penalty. It would be the easiest decision the ref had to make all game

Mario Barco pulled rank on the pitch as he waved Grande away despite being on a hat trick., but Hernandez was stood near the touchline and told me Barco is the usual penalty taker regardless.

Barco didn’t even take much of a run up and thumped the ball home. 3-0 to us 3-1 in the tie after 26 minutes.

‘Piece of piss easy this Jock lad’ Baz quipped as we added a fourth to the game, Barco linking up with a neat 1-2 with Grande just inside the box and he lashed the ball home to give us a 4-0 lead heading into half time. ‘Made the right choice coming here I reckon’ he also said as we made our way into the dressing room

I asked Cesar Vicente to translate for me as I said ‘‘How is this team in the bottom half of the league?’ I started before adding ‘that was rhetorical lads, we’ve been absolutely fantastic!’ Cesar spoke in  Spanish as I finished up with ‘just play without pressure now, even Runner Up can’t spoil our chances of wining this one, erm, leave that bit out actually Cese’. Cesar smiled awkwardly at that but sent the boys back out on the pitch.

We did change it up a bit, as we swapped Hererra and Calvillo around and told the boys to lower the tempo. Both Grande and Barco had chances to seal their hat tricks in the game and in the 74th minute Barco did just that, as Grande played him in from the right, Barco took a touch on his right to steady himself, let the defender commit to closing down, as he did Barco opened his body and curled the ball left footed to the near post. Now I’m not taking anything away from the goal or the hat trick, but no keeper worth his salt should’ve been beaten that easily at his near post. I’m not complaining as we ran out 5-0 winners in the game, 5-1 on aggregate to progress in the cup

After the usual post game talk and congratulations, I looked up Mario Barco's report and up until today he’d managed a return of 4 goals in 26 games, and managed 3 in this to take his tally to 7 in 27. The front 2 are just about guaranteed to start every game, Barco and Grande are the teams only out and out strikers, and going by todays showing they linked up really well and can easily play together

Cesar told me the previous manager was fixated on playing 1 up top without really creating much from midfield meaning either forward was left isolated a lot of the time. I get the feeling that these 2 have been crying out to be played in a 2 up top formation and that they’ve shown they can easily do that for us from now

We’re drawn against a team called Prat, no that’s not a typo, in the quarter final of the cup. And if we play like we did today consistently I’ve got no worries for the rest of this season.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Order a Killer

‘Oh I know them’ Baz said enthusiastically

‘Corse’ ye’ hav’ sloppy bollocks’ the Doctor said before adding ‘lemme guess hinny, they played Stranraer one pre season when you were there’

‘Aye we did, couple years ago, they brought their firm over to Stair Park, we beat them 2-1’

‘Why ye’ lyin’ for’

‘Get to fuck. Their mad heads caused a huge fight outside the south stand, loads of arrests and I heard 1 kid died’

‘You’re so full of….’ I cut the Doctor off before this turned into another 4 hour long argument

‘Listen, whatever I don’t care. This Oviedo team have made an offer to buy Juan, and as fate would have it he wants to join them’

There was a bit of a sombre (great word) silence between the 3 of us. Without a word being said we knew what this meant, and that was the clubs best center half would be leaving for a second division team. The question would be how much could we get for him, and could we replace him

‘I reckons aroon’ 170 grand you could milk em’ for’ the Doctor said to break the silence

‘How did you know what I was thinking?’

‘Divven't nah, ah’ just do’

‘Right, but we need to get a replacement in, I know the teams been poor at the back but Juan is clearly the best we’ve got and we need…..’ this time it was Baz cutting me off

‘Killer’

‘Ah’ not now Baz man ah’m sick of playing fuckin’ pool with ye’ it’s ah’l we’ve done since we’h got here’ the Doctor said angrily

‘Not killer the pool game ya’ prick, Killer, Jamie I think his real name it, he’s my pal from back home’

‘Who’s Killer?’ I asked, not really knowing what to expect or even if I wanted to hear what Baz was going to say

‘Oh he’s sick mate, absolute unit of a center half. Played at Elgin in division one for years but had to leave last year’

‘Do I want to know why he’s called Killer?’

‘Dunno, do ya’?’

‘Yeah I guess’

‘Well he’s called Killer cos he’s a fucking physcho, I mean he’s like a Graham Souness, Joe Jordan and Roy Keane illegitimate love child. Bloke just loves to fight, loves a 2 footed tackle and drinks 4 cans of McEwans special brew before every game’

‘Right, and he’s the kind of player we need in a team looking to avoid the drop?’

‘Aye corse we do. He’ll scare forwards shitless here, he’ll get the best out of the other defenders here an all you watch’

‘And he just happens to be available and, actually why did he leave Elgin?’

‘The details are a bit sketchy but remember Runner Ups’ last fight against that bloke from Iceland?’

‘Yeah the fella with the afro?’

‘Aye, well Runner Up lost that fight (I just shook my head at that) and after the ref stopped it all hell broke loose at ringside, and I’m not privy to the details but it’s something to do with a a mop, a bottle of sparkling water, some dodgy bets and a woman’

‘That’s it?’

‘Yeah, that’s all I know’

‘Bollocks, you do know you just don’t wanna tell me’

He rolled his eyes, I know that he knows exactly what happened, he wouldn’t tell me so I said ‘right whatever, we need a cetner half get him on the phone’

‘Oh no need, he’s in Ibiza right now’

‘Well isn’t that just convenient eh’

‘Yeah Jock it….’ I cut him off

‘I was being sarcastic. Please don’t tell me you’ve already told him he’s got a job here?’

‘Whaaattttt? As if I’d do that Jock’

‘You would, why is here in Ibiza, at the exact time I’m having to let my best defender speak to another club, at a time I need a defender, the fact he is a defender, oh and not to forget in fucking Janaury! The absolute worse month for a holiday to Ibiza!’

‘He’s here on a 18 to 35’s weekend break’

‘It’s fucking Wednesday Baz!’

‘Aye an he’s stayed here’

After they left the room I reluctantly accepted the offer from Real Oviedo for Juan Antonio Ros. We managed to agree on 170k, plus 40k after 40 appearances and 30% of the profit of his next sale. He’d told me he wanted to speak to them and I didn’t want this to turn into an issue this early on in my time here, so I had to let him go. In my mind come the summer I’m going to be prioritising a center half anyway, and we’re well underway with that as my main target is being scouted already.

My plan was now to get Killer, also known as Jamie Duff through the door. I’m not expecting any fireworks, just a solid center half that’ll help us defensively, and really, he’s just coming in to see this season out, secure survival and then from the summer we push on.

After seeing him in the medical he put me off wanting to try and break through and score, and all I was doing was watching him train! The physio was speaking to Cesar, our fitness coach and he says Jamie has no fitness issues but is probably a safe bet to get suspended, but I figured he’s as good a choice as I’m going to get at the minute. Ibiza is known for it’s holidays not it’s football team, not yet anyway, so until we get this club moved away from the wrong end of the table and pushed on I doubt we’re going to attract much better players than Killer. He knows he’s signed an 18 month deal and will feature heavily this season, with next to be worked out when we secure survival.

I wished Juan Antonio the best as he made the move up a division to Real Oviedo, for 170K which is my biggest sale as a manager. We’ll get another 41K if he manages to make 40 appearances and a bit of money from any profit if he gets sold, so not too bad a deal financially, and based off how the team have performed up until now, is it that bad a deal that he’s leaving? 

Killer’s registration wasn’t done in time for the visit to Prat for our first leg quarter final match in the cup, and we missed the presence at the back. Hernandez started with Sanchez, as Aragão wasn’t fit to play, and we looked poor. 2 first half goals for Prat sent us on our way really in the tie. We did match them from the second goal but never looked like winning the game. Barco pulled one back with 3 to play to give us some hope in the second leg.

I berated the team after the match, Cesar doing his best to translate words such as bawbag, feartie, nyaff, doolally and boke. The silver lining being we’ll have Killer ready to make his debut in the second leg, and young Aragão I will make sure is fit and ready to start, and Barco is in form so hopefully can add to the 4 he’s scored in the last

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - It's never easy is it

‘He’s gotta be of now’ Baz was yelling towards me and Mark Jaulk on the touchline ‘he’s on a yellow already that little shite’

He wasn’t wrong either. Miguel Angel Martin, the Prat center half had been booked no less than 10 minutes ago for persistent fouling and had just dragged Mario Barco down as he drove around to the defenders left. The referee had no choice but to send him off right on half time

My team talk at the half was pretty simple. ‘We’re 2 goals up, they’re down to 10 men, in no universe anywhere do we lose this game’. We scored 2 goals before the red card to give us a 2-1 lead on aggregate. We dominated the game from then on and got 2 more goals for our troubles. Cristian Herrera, our right sided winger got a hat trick which isn’t something I had on my pre game prediction card, and Mario Barco kept his goal scoring form up with a fourth late on to seal a 5-2 aggregate win for us, and passage into the semi final

We’d been drawn against another team I’d not heard of up until today, and that is Burgos FC who at the time of the draw were 3rd in Group B1 of the Third division.

In between the cup games our league form had been good as well. From the first leg of the quarter final against Prat (that 2-1 loss) we’d played 5, won 3 and lost and drawn the other 2. Burgos were no match for us on the day in the first leg either, and they found out how ruthless we can be. 5-1 to us in the first leg of the semi final and it wasn’t even close.

Mario Barco went nuts and covered every blade of grass. 4 of the 5 goals were from him and he assisted Juanje in second half injury time for the fifth. The easiest man of the match award the pundits will ever have to give in my opinion!

In between the first and second legs we drew at home 2-2 to Aletico Beleares, and beat the Villarreal B team 2-0 so the form was good, Grande grabbing 1 and Barco getting the other 3 in those games, both forwards maintaining their good records since I came in to the club.

The night before the second leg against Burgos, I’d gotten word that the Doctor had been arrested by Ibiza police in the early hours, and of course I was his free phone call and went to the station on the island to speak to him

‘Yah’ll nevva believe us when ah’ tell ya what happened’

‘This’ll be good’ I said and then ‘the copper on the door says you were trying to sell little fella’s to a bouncer’

‘Nah Jock man ya’ve got it ah’l wrong like’ in that Georide accent of his ‘here gans’ like’ he sipped some water and then said ‘so ah’ was dancin’ with tha’ red heeded chick ya’ nah who ah mean?’

‘No Bob, I don’t’

‘Cors’ ya’ do pal, bi-polar Lola she’s called a’hv told ya’ loads of times aboot her’

‘No, you haven’t pal I’ve….’

‘Anyways like a’h wa’ saying, bi-polar Lola me and hers been gettin’ on it like, ya’ nah wha’t a’h mean on the gear like’ I just sighed and told him to go on

‘An’ ya’ nah what I get like when ah’ve been on the Molly but this gear man was likes rocket fuel an’ it’s been mixed with some pure radgy shite or floor cleana' acid’

‘Everything’s cut with summat man you know that’

‘Aye a’h do ya’ right but this stuff had sent me off the rails’ I saw him take another sip of his drink and continued on ‘so I’ve started comin’ up on the gear and I swear a’h saw Noel Edmunds jump oot a fruit machine and asked us’ to pick a box or call the banka’, so a’hve called the banka like and he’s offered us’ 20 pence for mah remainin’ gear but it turns oot’ it wa’ a bounca’ at the club the Velvet not the fuckin’ banka’ like so a’h got worried and a’h legged it oot the place. A’h got doon’ the main road and a’h jumped owa’ a parked mota’ then oot a nowhere a’h seen that’ big fuck off snake oot that Harry Potter film ya’ nah’ the one he kills reet at the end, and it grab a hold a’ me heed and start’s cuddling us like the boar constricts dee like’

‘It’s boa constrictors Bob, a boar is a pig’

‘Aye well a’h seen a few pigs chasing us but cos the snake was stranglin’ the life oota’ us I couldn’t get away any more like but the coppa’s managed to save us from dying’

‘I don’t really wanna ask, but how did they save you?’

‘Turns oot’ the giant Harry Potter snake was a garden hose in the yard of Pikes hotel and as ah’ fell owa the wall to avoid Noel Edmunds or the banka’ bounca’ I fell into a weddin’ there at tha’ hotel and got caught up in the snake, I mean tha’ garden hose’

‘Right so what have you been arrested for?’

‘Disturbin’ tha’ peace, possession of a controlled substance, possession with intent to supply and possession of a concealed weapon’

‘Fucking hell Bob, what was the weapon?’

‘Oh nout that’s been dropped, it wa’ a piece of glass lodged in ma’ leg from fallin’ into the garden table, as I got up I pulled it oot’ and waved it around and nearly cut a bridesmaids dress, but as I wa’ bleedin’ all owa’ the place the filth have dropped that charge luckily’

‘And how much gear did you have?’

‘3 ounce a’h Charlie and 200 pills’

‘Where the fuck, actually I don’t care. I can’t help you at the minute pal, I’ve got the cup game tomorrow’

‘Cannit Wilson or some uvva’ charver get us oot’a heya?’

‘I’ll see what I can do’

I got up and left, this is not what I need right now. He’s not on the staff but if wind of this gets out it’s only gonna make me look bad isn’t it!

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - He's very English

Ibiza today - Club into final, manager caught up in another scandal

ESPN Europe - More bad news for match fixing coach as staff member charged with possession of narcotics

Motherwell Chronicle - McGhee gets Ibiza to a cup final, best friend in jail on possession charge

Scotland Today - Drug use rampant in Ibiza as football club accused of taking PED’s prior to cup final

Daily Mail online - British head coach abroad accused yet again of match fixing, drug distribution and more

News of the World - Drugs, steroids, match fixing and a cup final all within months of Scots arrival in Ibiza

It actually didn’t matter that we won the second leg 2-0 and the tie 7-1 on aggregate. Didn’t matter that we’d be playing FC Andorra in the final, also over 2 legs in the lower league cup. It didn’t matter that their manager, Isma Pinera had been praising our on pitch work in the build up and kindly, mercifully deflecting comments pertaining to the match fixing bollocks. Also didn’t matter that the club was looking more and more likely to survive relegation, something that was certain before I got here. All that was being reported again was that I’d not only had matches fixed but our players were taking performance enhancing drugs and my friends were distributing drugs all around Ibiza and to the players under my command.

The Doctor was still held on remand in the Ibiza prison out in the no go area of the island, but Baz and Mark were still around and we’d been having daily meetings as well as speaking with the players ahead of the first leg of the final. In the run up to this game I had a meeting with Gerard Hernandez, the incoming chairman

‘Firstly Jock, good luck my friend’

‘Thanks G, I appreciate that’

‘Also, nothing to worry about and nothing that is going to affect your job, but we have a new member of staff coming into the club. Well, not actually a full time member of staff, more like, erm, how you say in English, a temporary contract’

‘Oh right, what’s he going to be doing?’

‘Not a lot, truth be told. His dad is a good friend of mine, he’s a lawyer by trade, but has been a football agent for over 30 years. His son is a bit of a statistician so is coming here to do some work in the background’

I didn’t really know what to say or if this would affect me in any way, but stats I like and said to Gerard ‘oh good, I’m a big believer in stats, it’s been a goal of mine to use stats for transfers, you know the Moneyball concept I told you about’

‘Yes I do, however I have, erm, concerns about young Scott coming here for work’

And there it was, the real reason he was bringing this up with me. I felt he wanted me to get him to say something so I pressed him ‘Oh, why’s that?

‘Well, I do not want to cause offence’

‘None taken’

‘No, no I mean, how to put it’ he took a moment and then said ‘Scott Stanton, is a bit, erm, loud I think is the best way to put it’

‘Loud how? Like his voice is loud?’ I didn’t know what was going on at this point, but Gerard continued

‘I mean, like I said no offence but he is very similar to David Barron’

‘Oh Baz, right yeah Baz is loud and he….’ he cut me off

‘He is also very much a lot like your friend the Medic’

‘The Doctor you mean’

‘Si amigo, yes. And Scott is very English’ he emphasized the word English

Now I was bit worried, confused and intrigued all together. How can someone be very English? And be like Baz and the Doctor at the same time? Surely if you’re English, you’re just English. You can’t be partly English, or mostly English, you’re either English or you’re not, so I asked him ‘how is this guy very English?’

‘This is where I didn’t want to offend anyone, the Doctor especially’

‘Well he’s banged up isn’t he, he won’t get offended’

‘Okay. Well I have been in Ibiza many years, and every summer and year end we see lots of groups of people, holidayers, stag and hen parties, weekend breaks and so on’

I didn’t feel I had anything to say so told him to go on

‘And no matter where people travel from to come here, no mater how many different nationalities, cultures or races are here at any time, we can always tell the English from a mile away’

Now I got it. ‘I understand. He’s loud, obnoxious, likes to party and pisses everyone around him off’

‘Si, si exactly’

‘You sure this guys not Scottish? That pretty much describes us when we're out getting on it’

‘No he is definitely English. His father is from Plymouth and Scott was born not far away in Torquay I believe’

‘Okay, well I was worried at first but if this guy likes a party and it doesn’t affect his work, what’s there to be concerned about eh’ 

‘Which I hope you can do by keeping him in line? Maybe Scott and you can work together on transfers?

‘If he reports to me in any capacity I’ll keep him in check’

‘Like the Doctor?’ 

I knew he wanted to talk about that and I had the answer prepped for when it was asked ‘Oh no, as you know he doesn’t work for me, or you or the club in any way shape or form. He’s a member of the public that I don’t have any responsibility for, so don’t go holding that against me. Look at Baz, Mark and any of the other lads here on the staff, how many of them have gone out of line since I’ve been here?’ It was rhetorical so I continued ‘none is the answer you’re looking for. Anyway, this Scott, his dad, he got any clients I might know?’

Gerard let the first comment go and said ‘Almost certainly. I don’t know who without asking him but he has worked all over the world, you may know him Bill Stanton, and he’s worked with a lot of big name players, but with client confidentiality he won’t announce his players to anyone’

‘Okay good. Well maybe Scott can help us with building the team with his dad, or if he’s just a stats guy he can help with match plans. We’ll know more once everything is up and running I’m sure’

He left it at that and I went to the dressing room to speak with the team. We’re playing FC Andorra tomorrow in the final of the Copa Federacion, the first leg being held at Can Misses, our home stadium.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Another cup final first leg

I stood in front of the players as we finished our preps for the first leg of the cup final

‘I don’t have much of a team talk prepared for this match, but just go out there and play like you have so far. Mario you’ve buried 24 goals in the time I’ve been here, let’s keep that good form going today eh’ I nodded to Mario Barco who looked back intently. ‘The line up today is the same 11 that beat beat Burgos 2 weeks ago’ I said and called out the starting 11:

GK - Ualoloca

RB - Gayoso

LB - Hernandez

CB - Killer

CB - Garrido

RM - Guirao

LM - Herrera

CM - Marques

CM - Marreh

FW - Barco

FW - Grande

We start the game off as we ended the last one and that is on the front foot. We don’t look phased at all by the occasion despite an average crowd turning out and being quite vocal.

As we press on we’re given a free kick out on the Andorra right hand side which Marreh steps up to take. We’ve worked on set pieces quite a lot and we’ve looked good from every one we’ve had so far in my time here, this being no different. Marreh plays it in high towards the far post looking for Killer, Jamie Duff making the run there. It’s cleared by the Andorra defence though back to their right hand side, which Guirao receives on our left wing, he takes a touch, looks up and passes the ball along the edge of the box, Marreh steps infield following the path of the ball, he then takes a touch, looks to his right and lays off to our left full back Gayoso who is still up from the corner and he hits it first time from the edge of the box, and we all jump for joy as it makes it’s way into the bottom corner of the net. 1-0 and we’re looking good.

We survive the expected fight back from Andorra in the first half with a couple of decent stops from Ualoloca in our goal, and we had a chance of our own to double the lead when Barco had a free header from a cross from the right and hit it into the Andorra keepers hands. 1-0 heading into the half and my team talk was short, sweet and to the point

‘Good going Ander that was a class goal’ I said to Gayoso who shook my hand and said gracias. ‘We need to build on that goal though, I don’t want to sit back and soak any pressure up, if we get out there and get the next goal they’ll crumble and we’ll win this tie!’

The boys did as I asked and went straight on the offensive, which I don’t think Andorra were ready for. While we didn’t create anything straight away we kept the ball for most of the first 5 minutes of the second half and spent much of the opening minutes in the Andorra half. Mario Barco was his usual troublesome self and won a free kick on the edge of the box for another chance at a set piece.

This time it was Felipe Marques that stepped up. It was just off center of the box and Marques being left footed, this was a perfect position for him. As he stepped up he was giving instructions to Killer, Garrido and Barco. We’d worked on this kind of position, the idea would be when the taker steps towards the ball the 2 center halves will make a run towards the keeper and either forward, whichever was in position will drop a step deeper hopefully creating space for himself, that way if the keeper saves it we’ve got 2 runners heading towards the ball, or if it is parried or cleared we’ve got a finisher in position for the rebound. It mattered not however as the ball was curled expertly by Marques around the wall and just out of reach of the keepers outstretched right arm. 2-0 and we’re cruising.

Baz told the players to sit back now and invite pressure, something I wasn’t totally on board with at first, but I could tell by the Andorra players body language that they knew they were beaten, and we had over 35 minutes to play.

We got a third as Mario Barco scored his 25th goal in the time I’ve been at Ibiza to round out a 3-0 first leg win.  Herrera carried on his superb form as he tore the Andorra left full back apart and drilled the ball back towards the penalty spot, where Barco was wide open and just stroked it home.

Marques got the man of the match award and it was fully deserved. As the players celebrated a first leg well done, I made my way over to the Andorra bench, where manager Isma Pinera was in a discussion with the referee. I didn’t ask what about but they were speaking about but he said we played really well and we’d be hard to beat in the second leg. I took his words at face value and believed he was being genuine.

I also told the players at the end we’ve got 1 hand on the trophy, and after that performance we can be happy, and that I don’t think we’re going to throw it away in the second leg.

To keep us on our toes the 2 legs were sandwiched either side of 2 league games. The first was a home tie against league leaders Sabadell. We found ourselves 2 goals down just after half time, but with a few harsh words from myself and a tactical tweak from Mark that saw Calvillo pushed higher up and getting the ball in the box a lot more, we rallied back and within a 7 minute period in the second half we scored 3 well worked goals, and saw the game out 3-2 winners.

The next game was again at home, this time against Lieda Esportiu, and was bad for a couple of reasons. We went on to lose the game 2-1 but Guirao who’d been playing consistently well on our left wing had gotten injured late in the second half, and would be out for 4 weeks if we’re lucky. The silver lining being Grande continued his good form with a goal on 70 minutes, which ended up being just a consolation

The morning of the second leg arrived with all but 1 player, Guirao, ready and raring to go. The local media in Andorra, where the second leg was being played, were awash with news that the chairman had accepted an offer to sell the club.

This I already knew about so wasn’t surprised by it. I had told the players when we got to Estadio Nacional Andorra, the national team of Andorra’s stadium where the second leg was being played, that there’s nothing to worry about and I’d known about it it for a while.

I expected someone to make a comment about me knowing and not telling them, or that I’m just saying this to keep things calm, although I got a few nods and a murmur here and there, they were all fully focused on the task at hand, building on the 3-0 aggregate score and bringing the trophy back.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The second leg, again

News broke of the takeover and was all across the local media in Andorra, seemingly more important than the second leg of the cup final. I wasn’t concerned this would affect the team, quite the opposite actually. We’d all discussed the takeover and what it means for the future of the club, all we had to do was hang on to our 3 goal lead from the first leg and then we'd be able to prepare for the upcoming months.

As for the team I picked, the only player that would miss out in the second leg would be Miguel Guirao, who had been a steady hand all season for us. We’d be giving the starting nod at right midfield to Calvillo who has played back up for Guirao all season anyway

GK - Ualoloca

RB - Hernandez

LB - Candelas

CB - Killer

CB - Garrido

RM - Calvillo

LM - Herrera

CM - Molina

CM - Marreh

FW - Barco

FW - Grande

As with the first leg it started pretty evenly, Andorra didn’t want to commit man forward and as we’d discussed before the game we were content to sit back and soak up the pressure early on. That lasted until the 14th minute, when Calvillo filling in for Guirao on the right burst forward and crossed low and hard across the box where Barco had the simplest finish of the season as he tapped into the net. 1-0 on the day, 0-4 on aggregate

The goal woke Andorra up and it was obvious they felt like the tie was done as the shackles were off as they put us under pressure for the first time in the game. Both their wide men in a 4-2-3-1 set up were linking well with the pivot in the middle, giving our back 4 a tough time, Killer at right center half especially was being given the run around.

Eventually the breakthrough for them did come in the 31st minute. As with our goal their winger found space out wide on the right and drilled it in low, Killer did clear it but either the ball bobbled or he sliced it, but it fell nicely to Ibarbia, the onrushing right full back who hit it sweet as you like into the bottom corner. Ualoloca was rooted to the spot. 1 each, game on.

Anyone with half an interest in football knows the best time to score is right after you’ve already scored, and that rang true in this game. Right from the kick off we played it back towards our defence where the usually composed Candelas would’ve taken a touch and played it out wide as we’d worked on, however the advanced playmaker Deco was on him in a flash and his clearance fell to Ibarbia who must’ve felt like scoring again, but instead he lifted the ball high over Candelas as he closed the ball down and Deco was unmarked and headed it just past Ualoloca in the net. 2-1 Andorra.

Baz was animated on the sideline and not trying to be politically correct with his encouragement either. ‘Ya’ wee Spanish jambalaya eating fucks’ and ‘Killer ya’ a fuckin’ donkey sort it oot lad’ were 2 of the most repeated things he was saying. It worked though as we then put Andorra under some pressure and managed to equalise right before half time. Calvilla on the right and Herrera in the middle combining well with a 1-2 to release Cavilla on the inside left channel and he floated the ball in to just where Barco was bombing forward, he hit it as it bounced in front of him on his left foot, it wrong footed the keeper, clipped the near post and went over the line. 2-2 at the half, a very even game although still 6-3 to us on aggregate.

My team talk was short and to the point. 'Don’t do anything stupid and keep it simple. We’ve conceded twice already but cancelled them out luckily, we do not want to concede first’ were my words. Inside I thought do Andorra have enough to score 3 more unanswered goals? Probably not was what I kept telling myself.

I was slightly wrong in my assessment however. Andorra came out all guns blazing looking for the first goal of the half, and we weren’t expecting it. Our 2 banks of 4 were pinned into our half for what seemed an eternity and Ualoloca in net made a number of saves, some routine and 1 where the ball was hit from outside the area, Killer was trying to block it but missed it, while Ualoloca luckily saw it late but got down just in time to palm it out for a corner.

The corner came from nothing as we cleared the ball, Grande having to drop very deep to control it and look for a way out of our half. It didn’t come however as Deco came from Grande's blind side, nicked the ball off him and drove through the middle. Baz was up and screaming at the players but I was trying to see what Calvilla was doing, as he wasn't tracking back. The rest of our midfield were out of position as they were still getting back from the corner Calvilla Grande being left up from the corner. Deco looked up and rifled the ball with the outside of his boot, a real daisy cutter to Sanchez on their left flank. He hit it first time and it gained just enough air to be missed by Killer who has doing his best to stay upright and Vujnovic, a half time sub for Andorra pounced on it and helped it into our net. 3-2 to them and the advantage in the game, 5-3 to us but advantage us in the tie.

That was in the 69th minute, plenty of time for them to get another 2 unanswered goals. We held firm for a few minute though, neither team doing much but when Calvillo was released on the right, he found Grande in the box just off center of the penalty spot, he went up for a header and as he did the center half came to put him off and as Grande headed the ball he came down hard on his ankle and I could tell the way he crumpled to the floor he would be coming off.

Injuries are never good no matter how you plan for them. His replacement Juanje was on and the idea was to try and run into the gaps behind the defence, Juanje being quicker than Grande and Barco. As the game carried on Juanje was linking up with Barco looking to get involved. Andorra hadn’t really threatened us since their third goal but we managed to get an equaliser.

Not long after Juanje came on he was played into the box by Barco and Tomas at center half had pushed him in the back, so the linesman told Baz. I didn’t see the push, neither did the ref as when Juanje hit the deck the ref didn’t wave, only when the flag was up did he stop, look at the linesmen who signaled for a push. Penalty to us.

Only 1 man on the pitch would be stepping up to take it and that was Barco. He'd got 2 already in the game and he made it 3 with a thumping penalty right down the middle wrong footing the keeper. 3-3 on the day, 6-3 to us on aggregate, less than 10 to play. The cup is nearly ours.

As the players lined up for the left 8 plus stoppage time, I saw Baz, Runner Up and Guinness all rush from the bench and down the tunnel. I also noticed 1 of the stands for home fans that was open started emptying, they knew. I could tell the Andorra players heads had dropped as well, no way were they scoring 3 in 8 minutes. The game petered itself out and before the full time whistle went, the trio of Baz, Runner Up and Guinness all came back from the tunnel with 2 bottles of champagne each, some streamers and a Scotland flag.

The ref whistled for full time. The 700 or so fans that made the trip from Ibiza to Andorra were cheering, I was being covered in champagne and the players were jumping for joy

Much like last season in San Marino, where I’d won the lower league cup with them, I was celebrating another unlikely cup win with another unfancied side. It’s another moment in a short 4 year career of moments. To see the players, my players celebrating a cup win, to think of myself hopping through countries being hounded by the FBI and relentless media is just incredible to me. My whole 4 year career so far has been a rollercoaster full of twists and turns, it’s cliché I know, but it’s true. I’ve never once given up despite the pressure form authorities, probably some players, definitely some fans and even the league wanting me gone and I’d like to think that has pressed onto the players after this cup win.

I shook hands with the ref and linesmen, thanking the 1 that flagged for the penalty and admitting I didn’t see the push. I shook hands with many of the Andorra players, and finally before heading into our dressing shaking hands with Isma Pinera and him congratulating us all. I walked into the dressing room to cheers and more bubbly being sprayed, and all I could think of saying was ‘well done lads, we’ve fucking done it!

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The final whistle

I was stood in the dim lights of the home dressing rooms at Can Misses, Ibiza’s stadium and my home for the last 6 and a bit months. The lights were eery and casting long shadows on the walls, as if trying to say something, final, I don’t know. I was sat alone with a can of Red Bull, the sound of dripping water somewhere down the corridor my only companion. 

Baz and Mark, my trusted staff, had long gone for the day. Baz to get ready for yet another night on the town, it would be his 14th night out in a row he proudly exclaimed earlier in the day. Guinness and Runner Up no doubt joining him again, the Doctor conspicuous by his absence still being remanded by the Ibiza police. I hadn’t got the heart to tell Baz, Runner Up and Guinness what I needed to. 

Mark Jaul, probably my most reliable staff member, I also hadn’t told him either, he was busy getting sorted to go spend part of the summer in his home country of Austria with family and friends, he’s more than earned a few weeks rest, although I had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting it.

The season for FC Ibiza had ended and we comfortably finished mid-table, and bringing in the lower league trophy the COPA Federacion, much a mirror of my season in San Marino this time last year too. The scent of sweat, defeat, victory, hard work and a season of ups and downs swirled around me in the dressing room. 

I could see Mario Barcos shirt from the cup final, he’d signed it to sell to raise money for a charity he’s a part of, on the door of his locker. My own football boots that have been with me since the first training session I took in Bangor 4 short years ago were also by my own bench in the middle of the room. I could see a little clear bag behind the bin, clearly left by Guinness, Runner Up or Baz by mistake. I wouldn’t be cleaning it up, not yet anyway. The damage has already been done.

The team had given their all in the time I’d been here and we’d finished in good spirits, winning more than we lost as well as the cup. A lot of effort from them all is all I asked for, that’s what I got and more. Thing is, in this life the world doesn’t care about effort and good spirits, it certainly waits for no man. Time, in of itself, moves on as does football.

I replayed many of the moments from this season in my minds eye. The cup final first and second legs a big part of it, a second half hat trick from Juanje away at Eldense in a 4-3 win, we were 3-0 down at 1 point too, in that game towards the end of the season. There were bad points too, defeats here and there, open goals missed and chances scuffed. But overall a good season for us, and we could be happy. 10th place is something to build on, whether I would be the one building it remains to be seen.

I was certain this team would be built to last. I’d made contact with some players we’d been scouting and deals offered just waiting to be signed. Barco and Grande the players that sparked hope, over 40 goals between them this season. Killer came in and sorted the defence out and instilled fear in opposition strikers, into me as well at times. He’d be our captain next season without a doubt.The young kid Aragao on loan from Real Madrid had extended his stay for another 12 months as well. Things are, were, looking up.

They call it the beautiful game, but it’s not always beautiful. ‘Not for men like me’ I said to myself. I wished I could come back, hoped beyond anything I’d get the chance to come back and carry on in a job many men want but never get the chance to do.

As the door to the dressing room creaked open the dark corridor behind it beckoned. The shadow went from being stretched to a form standing in the doorway and said ‘hello Jock, it’s been a little while’ and motioned me to join him.

I stood up, back aching from a fall many years ago that still gives me trouble, both knees stiff from training regularly with the boys, and all I could say was ‘aye, it has’. I flicked the light switch, the room went dark and the door slammed shut behind me.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Dirty tactics

As we made our way out of the car and into the building, one of the biggest public buildings on the island, the rain was relentless. Summer in Ibiza wasn’t meant to see rain, not like this at least. You can hear it pounding the windows like a seasoned prize fighter pummeling Runner Ups stupid face over and over. The light in the reception was flickering and then I noticed the light on top of the security guards post was flickering with a sticky glow.
 

‘Empty your pockets please’ the jumped up pen pushing rent a cop said in perfect English as he put a tray in front of me ‘any metal work inside your person?’ I shook my head as I undid my belt and lay my phone, wallet, watch, strip of Tramadol tablets, and my rented flat keys into the tray. ‘Step through here please’ as he motioned me to his colleague to give me the once over with that little beeping rod they use.

After getting the all clear from the second rent a cop I could still hear the storm outside. ‘Tropical storm’ someone had said on the way over. I’ve seen storms like this before, metaphorically I mean. On the pitch, in boardrooms, police stations and now as the sign opposite me reads Juzgado de Audiencia Nacional de Ibiza, the Spanish National Court of Ibiza. This storm was going to be different, and it was headed straight for me.

As we sat in the waiting area for our case to be called I saw a bit of commotion near the rear doors opposite the way we had come in. ‘Press probably’ my solicitor, Wilson Barnes said ‘it’s quite high profile all of this’ I could only nod.

As the doors flew open 2 armed guards came storming through, dragging a form kicking and screaming who stumbled to the floor, at least it looked more like a theatrical Neymar-esque dive more than a stumble.

‘Steady on ya’ fuckin’ radge cunt’ the form said in the most recognisable Geordie I’d ever heard ‘an’ ya’s can fuck reet off think ah'm pleadin’ guilty an a’hl like’ he said as he was dragged up to his feet. As he stood up I went to go speak to my oldest friend in the world, the Doctor we all call him now. His real name is Robert Robson, of Newcastle Upon Tyne. But as I did Wilson grabbed my arm ‘I wouldn’t, it’ll look bad for both of you’

But before I could say anything the Doctor yelled ‘Jock lad, my guy howay man come owa an’ see us before these fuckin’ Mackem shagging dog botherers giv’ us anover' kickin’ like’

Before I could say anything they dragged him down the hall towards another area I’d not been into waiting for the hearing to begin. As I sat back down I pulled out the envelope from my inside pocket. It felt like a loaded gun as I pulled it out. I’d not touched this thing since it had been given to me some weeks ago by a DPD guy on the island who didn’t stick around once I’d signed for it, as if he knew what was inside.

I opened it slowly again, much like when I got the bastard thing, and slid out the paper inside. The words ‘Federal Bureau of Investigation’ adorned the top, as did ‘Financial Crimes Unit’ in letters staring back at me again, in a bold and unapologetic way. I could almost hear the handcuffs snapping shut when the case was over.

Match fixing and money laundering are the official charges and the reason I’m here today. Below those I’m being brought in to be cross examined in the Doctors own trial. His charges are drug and person trafficking, conspiracy to commit fraud and bribery to go with the 2 crimes I am being charged with.

Baz, David Barron on the official documents, is also going to be involved in this trail. His charges are match fixing from our time in San Marino and bribery. We’ve not spoken since the final game of the season a few months ago on the advice of both our legal teams. 

Mark Jaulk, the most professional person I’ve ever met, a guy that keeps himself to himself has been given a court order to appear as a witness for both the prosecution and the defence. I’m not sure firstly how that will work, surely it’s a conflict of interest? Or secondly how he will do up on the stand, he’s always been a calm sort of guy so I don’t know if he’ll buckle or not. He’s not being charged with any crime either, which I found odd. Much like Baz I’ve not spoken to Mark for ages.

I wasn’t going to admit it, but I was worried. This is a high profile case with far reaching complexities. Once our trial is out the way, the next phase is the trial of a number of staff at higher profile teams such as Anderlecht, Besiktas, Spartak Moscow and Lyon. With us being on the lower end of the reputational ladder, we were getting seen to first. Wilson told me it’s so the other teams can see how it’s getting handled, how the media are going to be and play it, and how we as the accused deal with things. 

Dirty tactics is what Wilson had called it. But in football is there anything on the pitch but dirty tactics? You set up to win, and when you’re in front you set up not to concede, dirty tactics right. You’re losing by a goal with 5 to play so you change to Sam Allardyce anti-football long ball and route one it into the opponents box, hoping for a lucky bounce, more dirty tactics.

The line between the right tactics and the wrong tactics is as blurred as the goal line in heavy fog. Sometimes you don’t know if you’re overstepping that line until you are so far over the line you’d done a full 360 and were back on the other side of the line ready to cross it again. And now, I was so far over the line I’d doubled up and was knee deep in something even more filthy than dirty tactics.

The letter detailed it in cold, brutal and clinical language: allegations of large sums of money coming my way, flowing through bank accounts held in Turkey, Bulgaria and Italy. Subsequent suspicious movements out of said accounts into accounts held in Mexico and Honduras. For the record I’d never been to either of those countries. And the worse line on the page read - results on the pitch that were looking too convenient to be coincidence and rife for certain betting markets, such as number of shots at goal, number of corners, yellow cards and passes made, to name a few. A pattern, the FBI called it, but the only pattern I saw was the unravelling of my life in front of my eyes.

I’d hit the drink daily from receiving the letter I now held in my hand. The sauce being the only thing that hadn’t betrayed me, yet. The chest stinging of the whiskey bruning all the way down the only thing, legal anyway, that I could get my hands on that would take the mental edge away. The other illegal things I was partial to these last few months were kept to myself.

There had been a number of phone calls to the club once I’d been given the official notice and court date over the last few weeks. Faceless voices offering to help me and clear my name, others wanting official statements. I remember 1 person earlier in my time in Turkey actually saying ‘win by 2 goals and that wage budget dilemma you’ve got will disappear’, I can’t remember if we did win or not but I do remember come that January we signed Ugur on loan from 1860 Munich, when in December the chairman had mentioned not being able to afford his wages. I never mentioned this to Wilson though. The phone calls eventually died down as I kept hanging up as soon as I knew it was people trying their luck at a scoop. I didn’t bite.

As the date drew nearer and nearer I remember just sitting in the flat in Ibiza, a flat I’d been paying for out of my wages earned up until I landed in Ibiza, money earned through nefarious means, so the press releases kept printing. It wasn’t home, never would be even if this court thing wasn’t happening. I knew I’d be on the move again eventually anyway but home, to me, is Motherwell. I’d had dreams of managing the Well, those dreams never going to come to fruition now regardless of what happens over the next couple of weeks.

I glanced at my watch. The time ticked louder than it had any right to, every second the little hand moved forward pulling me closer to the start of proceedings. The pressure was coming, but you’d think being a football manager I’d be used to pressure, making big decisions like who to play, who to bench, who to sub, who will shut out the opponents attack or whos’ going to come on and change a game in the dying seconds of extra time. Except now there are no substitutions, no extra time, no late comeback from a super sub. 
 

This was different. This was career life or death, and in the court room nobody gets a second chance.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The plea

I was sat on the third of the four benches. The first taken up by the schmucks at the FBI. Next to them the Doctor and his legal team, then me and Wilson and his assistant, then finally Baz and his suits at the end. We all shared glancing looks at each other, no words were spoken. However I clocked Baz and he gave me a smirk and I nearly burst out laughing. No, I don’t know why either. Possibly nervous laughter, luckily I looked away before the giggles came out.

The air in the room was tense but with the heavy scent of whatever cleaning agent they used to disinfect it prior to the hearing. I’d not slept much the last couple of months, who could in the circumstances? Too many thoughts and worries crowding my mind, too many mistakes replaying over and over in the dead of the night. I’d almost certainly not recover from this regardless of the outcome.

When called to the stand I stood up slowly. Not out of respect or nerves, but my back was playing up even more recently and my knees, well they were shot. I need surgery on the right one which has been put off for now. 

I surveyed the room and only saw accusing eyes. Normally in this situation in the dressing room, all eyes on me were waiting for the plan of attack, the set up in which we’re going with, who’s marking who and so on. Many times in the dressing room I’d talk of miracles and gotten my teams to believe in themselves, believe in the impossible at times, until the miracle of my own victory has turned into nothing more than a fantasy. Instead of a motivational speech or a battle cry of tactics all I was asked at this time was to confirm the plea I’d made a few weeks ago. I leant into the microphone and said ‘as I already told you, not guilty’

‘I only asked you to confirm it, not anything else Mister McGhee’ the guy sat on the pew to my left with the wig on said to me so I just nodded back. Prick.

I thought I was ready for the onslaught of words from the prosecution. I’d had enough journalists, fans, board members and even Ciro Ferrara talking to me in such a way you’d think they want to kill me. Except this time it wasn’t about loud voices and idle threats, this time the guy asking the questions actually wanted to tear me apart.

As the words were coming thick and fast, my mind raced from that first day in the job in Bangor right up until the final kick of the ball here in Ibiza against Barcelona's B team. Thinking of Dale Patton and Trevor Bests daughter from my first season in the job, Fatih Aktay banging goals in for fun in Ankara, Emre and Sanogo working so well as a big man little man combo in San Marino, Pavel and Anibal getting international call ups since playing for me and Grande scoring a worldie at Can Misses. The players all trusted me, they listened to every word I said and appreciated me. I now wonder who exactly was behind some of the wins that weren’t earned with hard work and talent, but behind the back payments and dodgy phone calls.

The barrister shouted my name as I snapped out of the daze I was in. ‘As I have said, Mister McGhee, what you have done is not only betray your morals, or the players under your command, even the people paying money to watch your teams, but you’ve betrayed the very essence that is professional football, the sport the majority of people love’ he paused for a reaction from me that didn’t come ‘and that brings me to the conclusion that here we have a man that will sell the integrity of the sport for a quick buck’

This was when the Doctor stood up and yelled ‘that’s a fuckin’ lie that is yous are all fuckin’ wrong this is bullshit’ as the judge smashed that little hammer down and screamed for order. The solicitor managed to calm him down and speak to him, probably telling him to shut the fuck up. 

Before the questions began again Wilson asked the judge if he could speak to me, which he agreed. Wilson walked up and said ‘let me remind you again, no swearing, think about everything before you speak. Even if you take 5 minutes to think about what has been asked before you do speak, do it. And lastly they might have evidence, but evidence doesn’t always seal the deal. It’s them that need to prove you did something, not you proving you didn’t. Stick to the plan, and stay composed’

The plan. I always had a plan. Away or at home, against top of the league or the bottom, in the league or a cup I always had a plan, and they were always good. Long ball when needed, all back on defence or all out attack, game winning or game management plans, I had a plan for everything. But here, in this court room in this world of laws and loopholes, my notes on the plan were blank. I was playing defence, something I’ve never done.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Courtroom questions

‘As I was saying before the interruption, who exactly approached you regarding the money for the game against Aydinspor in June of 2018?’

I thought about my answer before speaking. As I did I looked around the courtroom and not for the first time today either. I noticed the dim light above the only door in or out of the room was filtering other lights from outside, like thick clouds wanting to come and join in. 

The questions being asked all seemed like they were filled with heavy secrets, and me sitting in the dock was the man that knew each and every one of them.

I adjusted my tie again, rehearsed my answer in my head, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. The barrister for the prosecution, a guy by the name of George Amberson, looked like a slick operator. Hair coated in grease combed to the left and a suit far too snazzy for a legal counsel to be wearing. I’d seen his type before, men with too much ambition and too little care for how they got it.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ came out of my mouth. Amberson was quick to respond ‘oh but if you check exhibit 4C2 you’ll see you’re sat at a table with 3 other gentleman, I don’t need to name them again as it’s on the record multiple times, but quite clearly on the floor beside you is a paper bag loaded with Euros’

‘Objection!’ Wilson screamed out and stood up ‘whatever is in that bag is subjective, he has no proof that money is in there or that my client ever touched that’

‘Get in Wilson lad’ the Doctor yelled in response

‘ORDER! Mister Robson you are on your very final warning now’ he said then turned to Wislon ‘sustained’ then to Amberson ‘unless you can prove that money is in that bag in the picture and that Mister McGhee touched it I want it removed from this line of questioning’

After writing a few notes on his pad, adjusting his own tie and taking a very lengthy sip of water Amberson said ‘Thank you, and noted your honor. But as you can clearly see in exhibit 4C3 and 4C4 Mister McGhee is holding the paper bag and….’

‘Objection!’ Wilson again not letting Amberson carry on ‘the bag in those 2 images is clearly a different bag than the first one. Mister Amberson hasn’t proven my client has held that bag in the first image so how can he be sure the bags in the other images have been handled by Mister McGhee?’

The Doctor stood up at this and as he did the Judge shouted 'Mister Robson if I have to tell you again' 'Aye no bother' he said immediatley and sat back down.

Turning to Amberson the Judge then said ‘sustained. Same again Mister Amberson, prove Mister McGhee handled the bags in any image put into evidence and prove there was money in them or it is removed from this line of questioning’

Defeated but not deterred Amberson said something under his breath, and without acknowledging the judge he then said ‘explain to the court how you managed to fund your accommodation during your year in Turkey’

Easy, I didn’t need to think this one out ‘Mister Yildiz, the chairman of Etimesgut owns a block of flats in Ankara and let me stay there for free’

‘As well as paying you your salary?’

‘Correct’ Easy again no need to think.

‘Of which you were paid roughly 400 Euro a week?’

‘Yes’

‘So explain to the court how on January 23rd 2018 you were spotted walking out of a shopping complex carrying 2 bags that appeared to be from Armani’

I knew exactly what he was getting at so I said ‘with my wages’

‘But surely a football manager on 400 Euro a week can’t afford to buy clothes from Armani?’

‘Why not?’

Not responding to my answer or even seeming like he heard me he carried ‘A third tier football team in Turkey, a club I would say not exactly brimming with finances surely don’t pay enough money to it’s first team manager to be able to afford regular new threads from Armani’

I was going to speak but Wilson jumped in on my behalf ‘Objection’ The judge nodded as if to say go on so he did ‘whether my client was paid ten Euro a week or 10 million a week by Etimesgut, he has been employed previous to this in which he earned money to buy clothes. Not to mention the fact that before he was employed in Turkey he was able to buy clothes which you haven’t brought into your questioning. Therefore I think it’s irrelevant to this line of inquiry why my client was seen shopping at Armani, and whether it has anything to do with charge number one, and I quote ‘’fixing of football matches by ways of bribes’’. 

In my mind I thought he was right, me going out buying clothes had nothing to do with fixing matches, although I and Wilson were quickly shut down when Amberson said ‘maybe not fixing the matches themselves, you're quite right on that score my learned friend. However the proceeds from those fixed matches, sums of money large enough to regularly buy outfits from places such as Armani on 1 of Ankara's many high streets certainly does pertain to the match fixing charge Mister McGhee is here for’

I didn’t have time to contemplate what he said as he continued ‘anyway moving on from the source of the money you used to buy these extravagant outfits, but going back to your overall career if I may’ Like I had a choice.

He continued on ‘you’ve been in football management 4 years now, you’ve won 2 lower league cups, kept a relegation certainty in the league in San Marino and achieved a mid table finish with your current team, taking over when they were third bottom. You’re what people call a rising star' a rare compliment I thought, as he sipped his drink again before carrying on 'but the thing with stars is they tend to burn out when they get too close to the sun’

My jaw tightened but I kept my eye firmly on him trying not to flinch or give him anything to pounce on. The words continued from him ‘rumors are rampant in football, especially in the media. Things start as whispers in the locker room, then to the terraces, then online forums and the such. The whispers gain more traction, a missed goal here, an easy tackle there, a yellow card for no reason or even a stupid red. Easy to brush off if you’re clean, but you’re not, are you Joseph?’

Now I locked eyes with him. Only the old girl calls me Joseph. My eyes narrowed on his own steely glare and I said ‘as I’ve told you today, the police enough times, that dicks at the FBI, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never fixed any matches and have no intention on doing so’

‘Of course you don’t, it’s all a big misunderstanding, right. An unfortunate coincidence that your teams, all 4 by my research, have all been teams you expect to see at the lower end of the division, relegation fodder, an easy 3 points for most of the other teams in the league. Except your teams, favourites to lose most games have managed to win more than lose, even matching teams overall. A coincidence, no, more like outside interference’

I wouldn’t give in, I’m guilty of a lot of things but I am most certainly innocent of match fixing and money laundering. I just shook my head, thought about my next words and said ‘you can’t prove that, any of it. I’d like to think I’ve turned into a good manager, someone that can get the best out of the players under my watch’ I was expecting something from him but nothing came so I carried on ‘I put an arm around Fatih Aktay and told him he was the best striker in the league and he thrived on that confidence. At San Marino I told the players just believe in the plan and we’ll do well. I gave opportunities to players that were under appreciated at their current teams, or weren’t given a chance to shine, I also let…’ he cut me off

‘You see Joseph’ he said as he leant on the witness stand ‘it’s not just the wins against the odds that have people talking, or that you were friendly with some prominent politicians in Turkey, or that you used contacts within organised crime to get you from Turkey into Italy, it’s the money. It always comes down to money. People's finances aren't readily available but taking into account the fact you started in Northern Ireland, on the bare minimum wage, then went to a semi-professional team in Turkey on peanuts again, then to a team in a country not even bigger than the island you currently reside, people are asking how can you afford to live and move around all these places. People like Jose Mourinho or Carlo Ancelotti, people who have made fortunes and command high fees don’t have this issue. But little unknown Jock McGhee continues to be able to fund moving from country to country, taking jobs at small teams going nowhere yet never seems to be struggling financially’

Before I had chance to think about what I was going to say he carried on, more venom in his voice this time ‘Not to mention that layabout over there Mister Robson, who has been your shadow every step of the way. Or Simon Ewing sat over in the seats there, the Runner Up I believe you call him, who came over to join you 2 years ago, a man who is a boxer that has won exactly zero fights but is able to fund a move abroad to San Marino and a subsequent move to Ibiza, despite not fighting in either country’

I thought about it and said ‘people make assumptions when you win. They also make even more assumptions when you lose. I’ve just been a victim of my own success’

‘Or successful because of your friends’

I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him on this so I just shook my head and waited for the next question.

‘Maybe you thought no one would notice. Maybe you thought you could keep juggling the lies, taking the bribes, asking the same players to do your dirty work. The issue you now have Jock, is that when the lights dim, the truth has this little knack of crawling out of the shadows’

Another shake of my head, he continued ‘There’s no smoke without fire the old saying goes. The evidence is strong. The games where a big influx of bets for your team are placed you win, handsomely I might add. In a moment I am going to show you exactly how I know you’ve been dealing in match fixing and having your friends influence certain betting markets which you will not be able to deny’

As he said this my heart sank. But before he could continue on the judge called to adjourn for the time being. I was thankful for this as it’ll give me time to speak to Wilson without anyone else around.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Big shipment, big pay off
 

I could see the sweat starting to bead on the Doctors temple, the way his fingers tightened around the bannister to the side of the chair in the dock, his knuckles now white against the dark railing.

‘So Mister Robson, what do you wanna talk about?’ Amberson said, probably trying to be funny and gain favour with the jury. ‘Just like Mister McGhee before you, you can keep denying it but the evidence is there Mister Robson’ he stopped to take a sip of his water ‘I’ve seen them all come and go through the system. Gamblers, killers, petty thieves and fraudsters, they all have 1 thing in common, and that is they all get caught eventually’

The Doctor didn’t budge, he just sat and stared at Amberson without saying a word, unusual for him really. He’s the quick witted one of us, always with an answer for everything and usually the one screaming out at the worst possible time.

The room was full of tension, you can feel it in the air. The light above the door, the 1 I noticed when I was in the dock still hadn't been sorted and was flickering, casting shadows up that side of the room, the side where the jury were sat, as if the room itself was alive, waiting for the verdict like a predator. The verdict I’m sure is a long way away, they have to prove the allegations beyond a reasonable doubt against us yet. The tension turned to a thick air as the room was stuck in an awkward silence, waiting for Amberson to continue his questions.

‘You’re a sneaky person aren’t you’ it was a statement not a question ‘constantly evading the authorities,navigating the underbelly of the cities you’re corrupting with your schemes. The look on your face is an expression I’ve seen time and time again, it’s more like practiced indifference than genuine calm isn’t it’ Again a statement not a question. The Doctor just sat there with sharp and calm eyes on his face like a poker player reading the table. He carried on staring waiting for Amberson to continue.

‘So lets talk about the one hundred and thirty thousand Euro that happened to show up in your bank account in Luxembourg, shall we?’

Without missing a beat the Doctor replied ‘what can I say, I’m a professional gambler and sometimes a forty six thousand to one acca comes in’

Amberson twitched his lips and a small rueful smile appeared, only for a second, but it was there. He flipped through some pages of his folder, more for dramatic effect I thought than actually looking for information. He’s probably memorised every page already. Eventually he said ‘a pro gambler you say. A job title that conveniently isn’t ever audited or has to declare earnings and pay taxes. The sort of career that is rife for irregular financial activity. Is that the sort of pro gambler you are?’

I could see the cogs turning in his head, thinking what to say, or more probably like him what joke to crack at this. He didn’t, luckily, and Amberson leaned in, his voice lowering now as though he was sharing a secret with the rest of us in the court room ‘and what about the deal at the Catania docks that went down, the one with the opioid painkillers and sedatives while Mister McGhee over there was employed at San Marino? Big shipment, big payoff is what the local press announced it as. Big pay off, just like the one hundred and thirty thousand big ones in your account, coincidence?’

‘Aye alreet, I’l bite’

‘Tell us about the deal then’

His Geordie accent on full show now as he leaned into the microphone in the dock ‘If ah remember correctly some doss cunt down Boro’...’

‘Mister Robson let me remind you’ the Judge cut him off ‘that there will be no foul language in my courtroom

‘Eh? Oh aye, sorry your majesty, it’s just them Boro cunts are like…..’

‘As I just said Mister Robson, no more foul language’

‘Well ah nah Boro’s a dump like your majesty it’s just….’

‘Mister Robson, you can’t use the C word to describe people from any area or walk of life’ This time it was his solicitor talking ‘just explain to Mister Amberson what you were saying but without the colourful language please. Also it’s not your majesty, it’s not the Queen you’re addressing today’ a small chuckle came form behind me, I didn't turn to see who.

‘Ahh reet then, my liege I’m sorry, where was I?’ 

His barrister shook his head and said ‘the deal Robert, you were explaining about the deal at the docks’

‘Oh aye that I was, them doss Boro….erm, lads had given us a ring about the shipment’

‘And you went and met up with them at the docks?’

‘Nah, oh ah mean yeah aye although it weren’t a group it was just 1 ah’ them, ah’d met him with Double O 7, he’s 1 of wor pals from back in the day. Anyways I’d met this gadgy doon the docks like ya’ had said, he’s given me the goods and I’ve gone back to this divvy lasses hoose down Billingham Road like’

‘Hang on, lets rewind just a second. You said Billingham Road?’

‘Aye ah’ did like, I remember the lass was tied up and when she got free I….’

‘A female was held captive against her will?’

‘Ah shit no, oops I mean oh sugar nah man nout like that. The shipment of product I got me hands on, me and the lass were tryin’ em oot on each other, she let us tie her up and after we finished, erm, ya’ nah, shagging like, I went and sni…I mean drank the rest of me ale and made me ways back home to Gateshead’

‘Gateshead in England?’

‘Aye’

‘I think you’re getting your wires crossed, Mister Robson. The deal I am referring to is the one that took place in the Catania docks, where you were present with a number of other people. The raid that the FBI had broken up, sure you haven't forgotten about this?’

‘Oh aye, nah, I’ve not forgot. It’s just I weren't there like. Jock, the other defendant owa there (he pointed towards me, I rolled my eyes but had to chuckle) he was on the blower to us when it wa’ gannin’ doon cos it wa’ on the telly like’

Amberson was rifling through his notes at this point frantically looking for something. In the end he seemingly gave up and said ‘so the arrest, from the FBI, when did that take place?’

‘Nevah’

‘What do you mean, never?’

‘I’ve never been arrested by the FBI. It’s the police here in Ibiza what arrested me but nevah tha’ feds’

He let out a sigh and said ‘okay. Forgetting that for now then, you do realise that the bets you’ve been placing, and winning, have been done based on the matches in question being fixed. At some point during this trial you’re going to hear just who had been fixing the matches you’ve been betting on but I suspect you already know who that is. And despite your protests there is no way you can convince me, the jury or anyone else that you didn’t have prior knowledge of the games being fixed’

This is what worried me. The FBI and Amberson had consistently said they’ve got proof from someone that games were fixed. It hadn’t been put into disclosure before the trial, apparently it wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t know what that means but I was worried regardless.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - Day 4

Day 4 of the trial and all Amberson had shown the court was that we might’ve fixed matches and might’ve made bets on those matches and might have profited handsomely from those matches, circumstantial at best. 

Mark Jaulk, my assistant manager had been called up and cross examined, although he was up there just under 2 hours, nothing compared to the 6 and half I was there and the 5 the Doctor was grilled for. I wasn’t resentful, Amberson said enough times during the questioning there was barely any evidence against Mark and that he was up there more or less to confirm his statements made to the police and to testify under oath that he never saw me or the Doctor do anything untoward or have any dealings with anyone in fixing any games. He smiled at me as he stepped down and I nodded back to him.

We’d made our way back in and sat back down. This was the next big break in the case against us. The strongest evidence against us had been put into disclosure earlier in the day, actually during Mark’s cross examination, and Wilson had said he’s not even reviewed it yet. His office hadn’t been able to go over it in time for this session now. The prosecution's star witness was here and ready to take the stand.

Everyone was back in and waiting for the judge to appear. The air as has been the last 4 days was stale, filled with the scent of Ambersons cheap cologne, my nerves and a tension I’ve never felt. The dim light into and out of the room had finally been fixed, although it was still shimmering casting the same shadows from the hallway into the room. The Judge came in and told us to be seated. Amberson rose and waited for the judge to address him

‘You have your next witness ready Mister Amberson?’

‘Yes your honour, I do’

‘And may I ask why it has taken you so long to get the witness here and ready to testify?’

‘Politics your honour, you know how it is’

‘Actually, I do not. This case you have been building has taken you roughly 2 years to be brought in front of me, and all the way through you have claimed you have some exceptional piece of evidence, which I assume is this witness today, yet you’ve not been able to get this entered into disclosure until now. I will say this and will not repeat it’ he took a moment, moved some papers in front of him and said ‘this witness has to be the best evidence you’ve ever produced in your entire career George, and it has to be the piece that proves Misters McGhee and Robsons guilt, otherwise it will be thrown out of evidence and dismissed in this trial. I’m sure you understand?’

‘Yes your honour, I completely understand and thank you for allowing the evidence into the case’

‘I haven’t allowed it, yet. I will wait to see how things go from here and then decide whether to allow the upcoming witness to be a part of the case’

The judge then asked Amberson to call his next witness to the stand, and he turned and faced everyone in the room, ready to bring in the witness.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The Witness
 

Amberson locked eyes on me and said ‘thank you, your honour. Let the prosecution call it’s next, and final I might add, witness to the stand, Miss Alexa Rosario’

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Alexa. Fucking Alexa, the politician. My guiding light, the person that got me out of Turkey, into Italy and got me the jobs in San Marino and Ibiza. She’s the fucking witness?!?

The door opened and she strolled in looking like a movie star, with a grace and confidence in her walk I’ve never seen. I was watching wide eyed as she passed our desk and into the witness box. I looked to my left and locked eyes with the Doctor who mouthed silently ‘the fuck is she doing here’. I shook my head and mouthed back ‘fuck knows’. We both sat in silence not knowing what was going to happen next.

I could hear people behind me whispering and heard a few gasps as she walked in. Even the judge looked to be on edge as she sat down. She didn’t look at me, or the Doctor but she seemed cool, calm and collected, every bit the practiced politician that she is. Wilson was making notes as she was getting ready to be questioned.

Amberson wasted no time striding next to her like a shark scenting blood in the water. He let the silence stretch out, the shock of her showing up, the air thick with the weight of her presence in the courtroom.

‘State your name, occupation and place of said occupation for the record’ Amberson said, his voice steady, eyes locked on me as he said it, his tone as sharp as a blade.

She cleared her throat and said ‘Alexa Rosario. Politician in the United States of America, based in New Hampshire’

‘And what is your connection to Turkey, Miss Rosario?’

‘It’s missus, although we’re separated. And it’s due to my career. I was seconded to a term in Ankara’

There it was, plain as day, but it still landed like a punch to the gut. She’s been in on it the full time, she had to be. The people in the courtroom had shifted and a murmur continued to ripple behind me. Amberson waited for it to die down, his eyes never leaving mine.

‘Senator Rosario’ he began, voice echoing through the room laced with a dangerous calm and a wry smile on his lips ‘you’re here to testify regarding the allegations of football match fixing involving a person employed in Ankara at the time of the allegations, is that correct’

‘It is’

‘And you’re aware of other match fixing taking place between people connected to other football teams in France, Spain and Russia, although we’re only interested in Mister McGhee today. Has this all been explained to you in full detail before today?’

‘It has’

‘Were you under any duress or forced against your will to appear here today, or to speak to us before today?’

She just shook her head

‘I’ll accept that as a no’ Amberson said, took his suit jacket off and said ‘I’ll cut right to the chase. Explain how you became involved in these….activities’

She swallowed, eyes up glancing around the room but never once locking on me she said ‘it started innocently, as these things do. A fundraiser, a meet and greet. Some business people from Ankara. Eventually one of them approached me and asked me about placing bets on football games. He said he knew people who would throw games, dives, mis place passes that sort of thing, also said he had a few connections’

Ambersons eyes lit up ‘connections Senator? Is that what you’re calling it?’

She winced but nodded and said ‘he said he wanted me to make the connection between the games and him, to make sure there was dialogue between all parties’

‘And did you?’

She closed her eyes, her face creasing with the weight of something, a confession? Or was it something else? She opened her eyes and said blankly ‘yes’

The courtroom came alive with voices and commotion. The judge slammed his gavel down, it sounded like a gunshot and the silence came almost instantly, the air suddenly brittle.

Amberson, revelling in all of this asked ‘who was the man asking you to make the connection Miss Rosario?’

‘Ostman Sekhir’. A name I’d never heard before. I wanted to jump up and say that to her and the judge but remained seated

‘And for the benefit of the people in attendance here today, can you confirm who that is and more importantly, who the connection was with?’

‘He’s the Turkish Foreign Minister, and the connections, or dialogue as it turned out to be, was made with Jock McGhee, sat right there’ This was the first time she laid eyes on. I clenched my hands and my knuckles started burning with rage and it felt like I was holding back a storm. The accusation hit me like gut punch from Mike Tyson in his prime and the rage inside was rising

The Doctor didn’t hold back though and was up on his feet ‘that’s the biggest load of bullshit ever that is’

‘Order’ the Judge yelled smacking the hammer down ‘I will have order Mister Robson’

‘Fuck your order fuck all of yous that slut there is fuckin’ lyin’ ah’m tellin’ yous she’s a fuckin’ coward and a liar’.

The security guards had grabbed him and sat him down as the Judge said ‘I told you already you’re on your last warning and I will have you thrown out and charged with contempt of court if I have any more outbursts from you Mister Robson’

He waited a moment until the room was silent then said ‘as this is an unusual event, in that the prosecution seemingly hadn’t had this witness ready for this trial, I am willing to let you remain here Mister Robson, but as I said any more words from you unless you are on the witness stand and I will charge you with contempt. Now, Mister Amberson, please continue’

As Amberson was embracing all eyes being on him I could feel my own face red raw with rage from what Alexa had said. My pulse was drumming way up in my temples and each beat kept fueling the fire in my chest. I’ve never felt so angry, so betrayed in all my life.

I looked right at her, right at this woman who was supposed to be a friend, this woman that had thrown this cheap shot, this accusation at me. My eyes narrowed on hers and I saw a blazing cold coming from them. Words actually escaped me at this point as Wilson was speaking quietly in my right ear, there was so much I wanted to say, too many vile and horrible things that needed to be spat out. How could anyone believe this woman’s bullshit? How could anyone think I was capable of this?

Amberson and Alexa were deep in conversation on the stand, but it was all a blur to me, I didn’t register any of it. When Amberson turned to me, he was stood like he was waiting for something from me. He said ‘Well Joseph, is there anything to add?’

I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t even know what he had asked. The words came out of my mouth though, low, trembling barely audible even to me ‘you don’t know a fucking thing about me’ I was shaking now, I heard the Judge say something, order probably, my fists were itching for a release on Ambersons stupid face, but I couldn’t allow that, not yet at least. 

But my voice was like gravel scraping against steel, left no doubt in the Judge I’m sure, no doubt that the tiny scared voice that spoke was one of guilt.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The shady lawyer

He kept his questions short, sweet and to the point with Alexa ‘You helped Ostman rig football matches?’

‘No’ She was experienced in talking and questioning so only gave the necessary answers. Nothing more nothing less, every bit the seasoned pro

‘So how did you and Ostman interact with Mister McGhee?’ he said pointing my way

‘It was an introduction at first. Then as the days and weeks went by I was the middle person’

‘Explain your role as the middle person for the court please’

‘Ostman would send me a text, something along the lines of 2 yellow cards, a red card,a certain number of throw ins that kind of thing’

‘And’

‘And then I’d send the message to Jock’

As she said this I looked over at the Doctor, and we both just sat open mouthed not able to believe these lies were coming out of her

‘There you have it your honour’ Amberson began ‘these messages, these were the things that were fixed in the games by Mister McGhee. I’ve got a list of all stats from every game in which Mister McGhee managed in Turkey, plus a list of all bets and markets made on these matches’ He took a moment then said ‘but that’s for later. Miss Rosario, why get involved in this at all? You’re a leading member of the Democratic party in New Hampshire, you’ve got multiple business interests and I’m sure you’re not strapped for cash. Why endanger all of that plus bring the integrity of the sport into doubt?’

She looked up meeting Ambersons gaze, something broken in her eyes ‘I thought I could control it. I thought I could get some money in my account, get it back home to fund our election campaign. I thought all I had to do was forward the message across and play along no questions asked, and then it would stop. But it never stops does it’

I noticed the Judge frowning and making notes. He looked across to Amberson whose own eyes seemed riveted, animated almost, and wide with anticipation. His voice was unrelenting however

‘No Senator, it doesn't. It never does’

As she sat there, shoulders slumped, it seemed to me that this confession was rehearsed, just like her speech to me at the New Years party we were at in Ankara. 

This confession was bogus, I knew that but from what was being said, would the judge and jury believe it?

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - A shadow of doubt

The judge called for a break in the proceedings roughly 3 hours after Alexa took the stand and we filed out into the dimly lit hallway. Amberson had dismissed Alexa before we left and we had been told by the judge in no uncertain terms that we’re not allowed to speak to her unless she's on the stand.

The smoky light in the smallest room right at the end of the corridor kept grabbing my attention, as if mocking me. The Doctor was sat slouched in the wooden chair to my left, his suit rumpled, tie on the floor and his face pulled tight with worry. His solicitor and barrister sat opposite him discussing things. Wilson was sat next to me and said ‘that Amberson, he knows every dirty trick in the book’

I just nodded, Wilson carried on ‘he knew fine well that Alexa was ready and able to testify I’m sure of it’ Not that it mattered, she could’ve been the first person in the stand a few days ago nothing would have changed. 

‘She’s a fucking politician, she knows how to lie expertly well’ I said to no one in particular

Wilson nodded and glanced down at his notes muttering something under his breath. He looked up first at me, then to the Doctor and his solicitor, let a short sigh and said ‘okay, here’s where we are. We’re calling what they have circumstantial, and it is. Forget the money bags and the shopping trips they’ve brought up so far. 

All they really have is 1 womans word saying she helped you rig matches’

‘Aye that’s what the fuck it is that fucking whore…’ the Doctor started but Wilson just raised a hand and told him to be quiet

‘I get it, okay, I do. But circumstantial evidence still sticks if the jury thinks you look guilty’

I sat up straight rubbing my head wishing that would rub away all these problems and the weight of Wilsons words ‘you’re telling me that I could go away over some fucking politician’s words and rumors? It’s all just smoke and mirrors, cloak and dagger stuff. None of this, none of anything they’ve shown proves we did a damn thing!’

‘Yes I know that, but smoke fills a room pretty fast Jock’ Wilson replied looking dead into my eyes. ‘As she’s pointed out, you’ve been with her enough times, once is nothing, twice is coincidence but three times is a pattern. The money trail concerns me though. I am only looking out for you, but the money in Mister Robsons account is a problem for you both’

I shook my head and said ‘so what, they see a guy like me doing well in a job I’m actually good at and they assume the worst? They’ve got nothing concrete, nothing that ties either of us to anything’

Wilson sighed again, he’s been doing that a lot today and said ‘concrete, no you’re quite right. But plausible, coincidental even, that’s what they’ve got. Look I’m sorry to say this, to you both, but you’re up against it here. They’ve painted a picture of you and it’s 1 hell of a masterpiece. To the jury, the judge even, you’re not a football manager that’s doing well, you’re a major player in a conspiracy to make dirty money from the games you’ve been in charge of’

I had to laugh then said ‘a major player in a conspiracy, the only con fucking spiracy is the 1 to get me and him jailed for some shit we’ve not even done! They think I’ve got some decent number going on here, if I was this major player surely to fuck we’d have won the play offs instead of getting dicked, or better yet we’d have won the fucking league and wouldn’t have finished in the play offs in the first place!’

‘I understand, Jock, I do’ Wilson said, though he eyes held something more than sympathy ‘but I don’t think it’s about the truth here, it’s about what the jury believe, and they believe, I’m sure, that you’ve been making deals with players to rig the games’ he waited a moment then said ‘I know what you’ll say, but I think the best thing we can do is a plea deal’

‘Absolutely fucking not lad!’ The Doctor said as he jumped out of his chair ‘we’ve done fuck all so we’re admitting to fuck all’ as he said this his chair tipped over on the floor.

I slammed my fist on the table, the anger flaring out of me as I yelled ‘so that cow sells me out and we go down for something we didn’t even fucking do, is that how it is?!’ kicking my own chair across the floor.

‘It’s how it could be, I’m afraid’ Wilson said in reply, his voice now as soft as a whisper. ‘Look, best case is we punch holes in her testimony. We get her back on the stand and get her to prove she did receive messages from you and then get the players to do what you wanted, the yellow cards, free kicks whatever else she said. We paint her as unreliable, a woman scorn perhaps, or try and get it out there for what it really is, and that is a smear job. But even then…’ he paused, the silence hung heavy in the room.

The silence was broken as the Doctor, his solicitor and barrister left the small room and said they were headed for the canteen without another word. I finished what Wilson was going to say ‘even then I could still go to prison’

Wilson’s face painted a picture, that of a face with the weight of a hundred trials etched into the lines on it ‘if they’re convinced, then yes. You’re not looking at serious time, less than 10 years I think. But as I said we might be able to get you a deal, get the sentence down but it’s not going to be a walk in the park’

I felt my face tighten at this as I looked down at my hands, they were trembling. ‘All this time I’ve done what I thought was the right thing, kept it steady, not once have I took a bribe or asked anyone else to. Kept my nose clean when it mattered, said the right things at the right time, and it all comes down to this? Some professional liar’s word over mine?’

Wilson nodded, his voice firm but understanding ‘it’s dirty business Jock, you know that. But right now it’s the only hand we’ve got. I go in tough on her, cast doubt and make the jury and the judge think twice. That’s my advice on how we play this’

‘Well I guess we play it that way then. Give the bitch hell Wilson’

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The weight of guilt

A couple of hours had passed since I last spoke to the Doctor. He’d gone to the canteen and I’d gone for some air and food myself with Wilson. I walked back into the courtroom behind Wilson and it had a stillness that felt heavier than it had so far throughout the full case. The windows inside were clean but outside I could see the thin streaks from the rain as if the windows themselves were crying over the mess that had been this case. Or was it the mess that was about to unfold?

The Judge was already in his seat, which I found unusual as all the way through the trial he was the last to make his grand entrance, and we all had to rise for him and wait to be seated. But there he was, hunched over a stack of papers, his glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose, and a cup next to him. He was the type of man that looked like he hadn’t smiled in the last 40 years at least, his face was creased with lines that looked as permanent as the tattoos on my leg. Motherwell badge and a Scotland flag, if you’re wondering,

He had a gaze on him that could cut through steel, 1 of no nonsense and certainly no sympathy yet alone empathy. Just a constant cold unforgiving look on his coupon, 1 that fit his role well and the role he was playing to perfection. The only thing that would please this man was the weight of that poxy little gavel to his left, ready to drop like a hammer to anvil.

As I sat down I noticed that prick Amberson pacing near his table with a precise, almost theatrical grace, like he was trying to show off or get a girls attention. He’s a man that never wasted a moment or a syllable, as evidenced with his constant use of big words. He’d gotten changed from his suit this morning, he was now wearing a charcoal blazer, white shirt and light grey trousers. I don’t know why I noticed this, but I did. His tie was knotted just right, tight, neat and looking at it made me think it was strangling him, much like the way he’s strangled the lies out of Alexa. 

His reputation preceded him, he was known to bring down big operations and send the best talkers, the biggest dealers and killers squirming while on the stand. I read in the paper that he could charm the pants off the Queen, and even charm the Pope into sinning. Wilson said I’d stood up to him fairly well, better than he was expecting. The Doctor just seemed as if he didn’t care, much to Ambersons dismay.

He slid his briefcase onto the table, opening it with a click that seemed to snap the judge out of his concentration. Amberson didn’t look up when he did this, didn’t notice the judge glaring down at him. He probably didn’t need any of his notes or evidence. I was sure he’d memorised it all anyway. Any solicitor worth his salt knows every move they’re going to make, every question they’re going to ask before they ask it. The courtroom is just a stage and he is the lead actor, everyone else dancing to his tune. He nodded to his colleague, then to the judge and said he’s ready to proceed.

Wilson made a point of shuffling his own papers dramatically as well, his eyes darting between the judge and Amberson. I was sat as stone faced as I could be, hands under the  table so no one could see my fingers twitching or the fact I wasn't holding myself together much. The shadows of dread flickered above my head as the door opened and the Doctor followed his solicitor and barrister into the room.

The judge looked at Amberson and nodded, then to Wilson and nodded, then finally to the Doctors solicitor and said ‘this case gets more unusual by the hour it seems’

I paid this no attention, I just assumed Alexa had made up some more lies or Amberson had said something else to the judge that didn't make sense. The judge then looked up to the clock above his head, 16:20 it read and I watched as the second hand clicked forward, as if stretching out the inevitable or that it didn’t want time itself to move forward. The judge looked across to the security guard and said ‘court is now in session’ to which the guard closed the doors and moved to the end of the row of seats.

Amberson nodded in acknowledgement, a faint smile curling at the edges of his mouth, like he could already taste the win. The smug tw*t.

I could feel the tension in the air. The expression on Wilsons face said he felt it too. There was an air of guilt, like it had settled in the courtroom. It had twisted and turned making itself at home here, despite our protests of innocence

As I noticed what was different, I had  a constant reminder of Alexas lies, of every word that has been said by everyone so far, every step, every choice I’d made as a manager up until this point, up until today and why I’m here. I’d reminded myself I’ve done everything by the book, legally, as a manager and done the right thing.

I locked eyes with the Doctor who looked resigned to his fate and just shook his head, then I locked eyes with his solicitor who looked away. I saw Wilsons own gaze and followed it, feeling a shudder go down my back as I scanned the room. No jury in the box, no witness waiting to take the stand. Empty chairs. Silent walls, shadows in every corner of the room and not 1 of them friendly. Why wasn’t anyone else here? Why had the door been closed and no one else going through it. Anyone at all? Even another liar, a corrupt referee, any stranger or enemy. I’d take Runner Up bursting through telling everyone he’d finally won a fight even if it was a lie right now. The judge seem to know how I was feeling and let the silence stew in the air for a while.

I’ll admit, I’ve never felt the weight of my own choices as heavy as this before, like bricks stacked 1 by 1 until they bury me alive. I wasn’t alone really, Wilson was with me and my best friend was on the other table, but there was no one to speak to here, no one to even look at me accusingly in this dead silent and dead empty room.

Eventually the judge looked to Amberson and said ‘please proceed as discussed George’

As discussed? As fucking discsused?!? Amberson had been speaking to the judge? When did this happen and what was discussed I wonder? But Amberson just said ‘thank you, your honor. James, if you please’ and looked to the Doctors table as his solicitor stood up, he also thanked the judge and looked at me, then at the Doctor and started speaking.

== == == == ==

The Journeyman Jock - The turn

I realised the heat I was feeling was from the fluorescent lights above me, probably placed right there to make the defendants more uneasy. It mattered not, but I was sat in silence and could tell my face was glum. I looked over at the Doctor and his face was the same as mine, long drawn out eyes and no reaction as his solicitor was talking to the judge. I wasn’t paying much attention to the words coming out of his mouth though. Outside the rain picked up, tapping against the window like it had a bone to pick with 1 of us in the room
 

The Doctor, Robert Robson, my best friend in the whole world is no stranger to the darker side of life, he wore it like a badge of honour that may be frayed at the edges and in need of some TLC, but he kept it around him nonetheless. People could see his charm, his quick wit and the wide eyed wonder of the way he approached life but I knew. I knew it was all part of his disguise. He’d been to places most people would shudder just thinking about, he’d walked through shadows and places lost to ruin. I always thought he knew the weight of his actions, the skeletons in his closet, the regrets, the bad choices all left behind in a smoldering wreckage of a life lived on the edge.

I know his past like the back of my own hand, as well as his present. His decisions haunted not just him but me as well. He’s not the kind of guy many people would call a friend except me, but he knew his way around, knew the taste of a cheap drink, a cheaper deal and a bitter grudge. He was the man people back home called when things went sideways, the one who’d clean up the mess as a favour, no questions asked.

He’d moved to Motherwell as a kid and we’d both walked those dirty streets more times than I cared to remember, haunted by a world that never seemed to change no matter how many times he’d try to outrun it, no matter what I’d done in my career to try and give myself or him a better chance of a clean life. He’d seen too much to change, the faces of the desperate junkies and the broken, the people the system had chewed up and spat out. A lot of people actually looked up to him in a way. He always had money and never seemed to want for anything. The people he helped and spent time with looked a lot like him in many ways, but he never lingered in front of mirrors long enough to see it

His hands were physically clean, but metaphorically they were calloused from years of bad work and even worse choices, the deals he’d made when he shouldn’t have and other things he’d done to make a quick buck, the people he hurt and going down this long and winding path that had brought us both to this courtroom

I doubt he’ll ever make his peace with the shadowy figures of years gone. We both know some things can’t be fixed and some stains just can’t be scrubbed out. Life on the darkest side runs by it’s own rules and Bob knew this better than most.

But now I’d been dragged into the darker side of football, the so-called beautiful game as everyone calls it. For years Bob had made a living in the shadows, fixing deals with dealers and other no hopers and everything ran smoothly, like a Swiss watch made of dirty gears. Until now.

I’d come to think of his solicitor as a real fire breather with a hint of desperation whenever he spoke. He’d said earlier that in cases like this someone could walk if they spilled their guts. It was a classic ‘who’s gonna sing first’ scenario, and I knew neither me or Bob would be doing that, admitting to something we’d not done? Never. We’re best friends, brothers in arms and we’d made a pact, neither admits to something we’d not done.

Bob was sat staring at his solicitor now and it dawned on me at the sight of him sat there, not shaking, not moving, no emotion at all. He was the picture of grim acceptance. The room was empty and now I realised why. No murmurs for what was about to come, no jury to deliberate, no reporters to lean forward and post how this would go down. I looked at Wilson, then the judge and then Amberson and I felt like I was skydiving and had just been told the parachute won’t be opening.

The judge cleared his throat and looked at Bob and said ‘Mister Robson, do you understand the terms of this plea deal?’ and that was when my whole world fell apart. That was when the last 20 plus years of my life went away like a whisper in the wind.

The Doctor just nodded, barely moving and his expression unreadable, but I knew. He’s not the type to open up on a good day, let alone now in front of a judge and Amberson, who by the way was smiling like a Cheshire cat on acid. But he’d made his choice when he left us earlier in the day, and now I realised that was when he’d discussed it with his solicitor. He’d made his choice and now he was going to stick to it. He glanced sideways to me, the faintest shadow of regret in his eyes, but he looked away as quick as he looked at me before it could turn into something he’d have to explain.

I was reeling, my mouth open but no words came out. What could I say? This wasn’t the plan, we were supposed to stay defiant to the end, stick to the truth, walk out clean together and beating the charges like we’d beaten the odds, like my teams had won when the odds were against us. I’d spent the whole trial sticking to the story, the truth, adamant I’d done no wrong, so had Bob, holding the line and proclaiming our innocence to anyone who’d listen. But now with him admitting to it, I felt like I wanted the ground to vanish from beneath me and swallow me whole.

The solicitor then started talking with the judge, his voice low and steady as if he was ordering a drink at a bar, now admitting to a laundry list of charges that could put us both behind bars for a good amount of time. Money laundering, conspiracy to fix football matches, fraud, narcotics distribution, entering and exiting a number of countries illegally, the list seemed to go on and on, but it was all on the table now for the world to see. ‘Guilty as charged your honor’ was the next thing out of Bob’s mouth.

I felt betrayed and a rush of anger and fear that tangled up like a fist in my stomach. I looked at my oldest friend in the world wanting to rip his throat out, but he didn’t return my gaze. Instead he kept his eyes firmly locked forward on the judge, shoulders squared and sat up straight as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along. I guessed for him this was just another step down the path he’d walked his whole fucking worthless miserable going nowhere life. For me though, this felt like the first time I’d ever been truly alone.

The judge spoke again ‘before we get into the terms of this plea deal, you do know you’re going to be back on the stand, within the hour, to confirm the charges and your role in these don’t you’ it was a statement, not a question.

Bob just nodded and said ‘aye, I do’ and kept his head down.

Wilson was frantically pulling papers from his briefcase, sweat pouring from his forehead and speaking to me but I said ‘stop, just stop man. There’s no point, he’s bottled it and sold out’

My whole world had shrunk down to this single realisation, Bob had turned on me. He was taking a deal, a deal that I hadn't been offered because they knew they could break him but not me, and now everything was falling apart. My claims of innocence felt like empty words in my mouth dissolving into nothing as Bob and his solicitor were still talking with the judge.

As the door to the room opened the guards moved to escort Bob and his solicitor out, he cast 1 last glance my way, an unreadable look aimed right at me. Was it pity? Was it guilt? The fucking idiot probably didn’t even know himself. But whatever it was it was clear as he was leaving me to face the music alone. This whole mess was probably his fault anyway. 

I was shell shocked and betrayed and now I was going down. I knew it. My life as it is now, my blossoming career, all going down quicker than a Glaswegian lady of the night on a Friday.

This is it, this is the end.

== == == == ==