Old people at weddings always poke me and say, “You’re next.” So, duck soup, I started doing that at funerals.


“Oi! Ruski lad!”

Svato, taking a deep breath, turned slowly away from Vinnie Jones with a dead look in his eyes.

“Where ya goin’!?”

“Bloody fecking Khimik Svetlogorsk?! That’s the name of a porn I once starred in — erhh I mean, ya know, if I were to – hypo  and then thethically – to be in one, that’s the kind of name they’d use. Ya know?”

Svato didn’t know.

Actually, Svato still had no clue why Vinnie was following him around.

Svato, Bubnov, Vinnie and Winnie was the least likely partnership ever.

And yet, somehow they had landed a gig for Khimik in the Belarusian First League, which you might think was the highest league in Belarus, but you’d be wrong.

It wasn’t the highest league in Belarus – the Belarusian Highest League was. Big time yup.

So, along the road to getting to Khimik many interviews for clubs had been had, even more applications rejected. CSKA Moscow said.. well nothing, they ignored Svato’s many calls. 

On a call with the owner of Red Star Belgrade the owner started laughing, coughing, laughing some more and eventually he put Svato on hold.

When he returned to the call the owner had added the owner of Partizan to the call.

“You mad dog shoe bastard, you have to hear this! You will die of the laughter – Me hopes!”

Svato felt embarrassed, but clapped along by the two owners he explained his offer of managing their team.

“Am I getting the punked? What the fuck is this?”. The Partizan owner replied back.

The Red Star owner continued laughing and coughing.

The call abruptly lost signal on his as the line was cut by the Serbian Health authority who immediately made certain arrangements to put him in quarantine over the suspicion of having the corona virus…

The Partizan owner, swearing and shout in Serbian, clearly infuriated by getting ‘the punked’ by the Red Star owner, threw his phone out his window.

More applications and interviews were sent.

All found the quartet to be insufficient, inadequate or just plain idiotic.

Like the Cats edition of a managerial team.

But not Khimik.

Oh no, they loved it.

Owned by Ukrainian reality legend, Vladomir Trumpskyi, they were set to be doing poorly.

Their staff were abducted from the local nursing home.

88-year old Bogdan was both Greenkeeper, attacking head coach and fitness guru – he did a ‘Yoga for the elderly” 1-day course so he was an obvious selection.

94-year old Stanislaumir was head of recruitment, scouting, negotiation as well as being defensive head coach and assistant manager. 

Stanislaumir’s 10-year old grand-grand daughter, Aliena, was assistant to the assistant manager.

Svato initially complained about the age of the staff, doubting their ability to stay sustain the horror regime he had planned for his training camp in the coming weeks.

He had read about the “Dyatlov Pass incident” in the Ural mountains, an thought it sounded great.

“This sounds the great!” See. That’s what I told you…

The people who survives, they play!

The people who don’t, don’t play!

Easy smeasy.

When Vladomir heard the complaints from Svato his reply was as sinister and morbid as you could imagine from a man with Trump in his last name.

Old people at weddings always poke me and say, “You’re next.” So, duck soup, I started doing that at funerals.

In other news…

The first days with their new crew was yet to come, but it was clear, Vladomir had big expectations.
Promotion this season, champions next season, Champions league winners the season after.

Seemed ‘easy smeasy’ or ‘duck soup’ enough, yeah?

Next Up – FM Gets into the picture as Svato & Co. meets the team

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