‘Elections? Like political elections where people vote? That bloody Nicola Sturgeon isn’t involved is she?!?
‘What, who? No, but I mean yes Jock, I’ve told you four times now, but for the sake of clarity, I will explain again’ Jakob Grandahl said before continuing ‘I will be standing for re-election, as every 2 years the club have to have these elections to ensure that the fans, shareholders and even the Danish Football League have a say in how things are run and that the clubs are run correctly’ he allowed himself a breath, and expected Jock to butt in again, but he didn’t ‘so I will be running for re-election, but there is a chance I won’t be elected again. I don’t see how though, I’ve won the last 5 elections, and the club has never been in a better position than we ever have right now’
Jakob wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t telling the whole truth either. Earlier in the day he’d thought about it, and thought about the favour he owed Jock’s father. If I didn’t win the election I would be done with Jock senior and his handle on me, but no, that’s a bad thought, and Jock junior was actually, all things considered doing a good job. He’d over exceeded and won more, a lot more than he was expected to have by this point in the season. After the league split all teams kept all their points accumulated, and Skovshoved were remarkably 2nd in the relegation group at that point, with a nice 9 point cushion above fourth bottom and the first relegation place to boot. There’s no way anyone would vote against Jakob, in the 12 years he’d been there Skovshoved had climbed the leagues, slowly but surely, had minimal debt compared to other teams not just in the same league, but in Denmark many clubs had huge debts, Skovshoved didn’t have much and if the hiring of Jock paid off, Jakob would be seen as the mastermind behind it. But there was the niggling problem of Jock senior, and what he may or may not do regarding the problem he knew about.
‘It’s fake you know’ Craig said
Jock rolled his eyes and replied ‘This again’
‘I’ve told you a thousand times that…’
Jock cut him off ‘How tall are you Skaggy?’ Skaggy was Craig’s nickname he’d been called since secondary school in Glasgow, Jock didn’t actually know why ‘6 2, why’d you ask?’
‘Well look at that handsome fella there, he’s called Kevin Owens, one of my favourites actually, anyway he must also be 6 foot 2 at least, and around 17 maybe 18 stone yeah’ he motioned to the TV in the 2 bed flat they had been loaned by the Skovshoved chairman, where Jock was watching a replay of the NXT War Games pay-per-view on the WWE network from a few nights ago. ‘So?’ was Craigs response
‘So, he’s just done a frog splash from the top of the cage onto Kyle O’Rielly, who’s not as tall, through a fucking table!’
‘Yeah but he knows how to land doesn’t he’
‘How to fucking land?!? He’s 6 foot bastard 2, and just jumped onto another man’ sensing he might as well be talking to a door, Jock continued ‘Go lay on that coffee table there a minute’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘To prove a point’
‘Just tell me’
‘Well if you lay on that table, and I jump on you from the windowsill, it’s gonna hurt isn’t it’
‘Well of course it will dickhead’
‘So 6 foot 2 and 18 stone Kevin Owens jumping from a higher point onto another human being is going to hurt that person isn’t it!’
‘No, they know how to land’
Jock was getting annoyed now. ‘Okay look, Adam Cole just did the Panama Sunrise on to Owens, let me do that to you on to the kitchen floor
‘Fuck that, you’ll break my neck!
‘So it can’t be fake then can it! And before you start with the choregraphed bollocks, these men are literally throwing each other around and you can see they’re obviously landing on a hard ring!’
‘It’s padded, it’s probably a mattress’
‘Are you for real?!? A fucking mattress!’
Jock got up and decided he’d watch the rest of the show later on and left for the clubs training ground, specifically the gym to let off some steam.
By the time he’d finished and was on his way into the staff area at the ground, his phone rang, an unknown caller
‘Jock, a bit of advice my friend’ the caller said
‘Craig stop pissing about will ya’
‘This isn’t Craig’
‘Then who is it?
‘A friend. Listen, you’ve been at the club 7 months now, and you’ve signed no one, and I doubt you’ve noticed, but you’re not very good defensively, and with the transfer window opening soon, you’re going to need to sign someone to have any chance of staying up’ the caller said as Jock stood there bewildered
‘Right, so this is someone from the club? I didn’t think we had any scouts or…’ he was cut off
‘No, I told you, I’m a friend. I’ve already put the call in, agreed the terms and you just need sign off on the deal’
‘Sorry, what? Made the call? Terms? With who?!?
‘You need a defensive rock, I’ve already spoke to the guy, he’s ready to join you’
‘Eh, what the hell? Isn’t that called tapping up?’
‘Not at this level no, listen the guy is on his way to you now at the training ground so you can thank me later’
‘What the hell are you talking about? I’ve got defenders thanks, and we’re really…’ again Jock was cut off by the man on the phone
‘Yes you have defenders, the same defenders that have conceded over 30 goals already. Trust me, you will be thanking me twice for this, firstly at the end of the season when you secure survival based on your out of the box defensive tactics, then again when you get promoted from this division, once again based on your defence. Speak to you soon Jock’
The caller hung up. Before Jock could really take in what had just happened, he heard the door to the staff room open up, and in walked a tall man fair haired man who smiled and said ‘Hi Jock, thanks for the opportunity to get back to playing, I haven’t played since I was shown the door at Naestved, horribly run club, anyway as discussed I’m happy to sign on the pay as you play deal as well as getting the star player role’
‘Erm, yeah, great I guess, when can you start?’
‘Haha you’re a funny guy, I like that, and it’s the mid season break remember, we discussed me officially joining in January when the squad are back’
‘Oh yeah, sorry, it’s been a long day, I suppose I’ll see you in January then’
‘Sure thing. Thanks again, boss’ and with that he left.
Edith Hodge, the clubs secretary then walked in and gave Jock the official documentation. The man was a Soren Jensen, 30 year old left full back, but was equally confident at center half who the club had signed on a free transfer. ‘He’s quite good you know’ Edith said ‘Yeah, how do you know? You knocking him off are ya?’ Jock replied, half expecting half wanting her to say yes, at least then he’ll have some idea of how this guy had managed to get a move here ‘Knocking him off? Is that Scottish for something?’ She replied before continuing ‘In fact don’t tell me, I don’t want to know, and I know him from when I used to work at Naestved, he was their captain and player of the year 3 seasons in a row. He had a big falling out with the manager so was given a free transfer. Really, he should be playing in a higher league than ours, he is really good’
‘Well of course I know that Edith, I signed him after all’ Jock said in a sarcastic way, but Edith didn’t click on to his sarcasm.
As the days from that meeting went on and Jock enjoyed some time off, it was announced that the UK wouldn’t be leaving the EU after all,
Nothing of note happened in Danish football anyway because of the winter break, but the day of the Skovshoved elections finally came around, and at the ground were the candidates. Marco Thisgaard the financial director of a bank in Denmark, Kristian Simonsen a former footballer turned accountant, Teodor Jepsen another former player turned accountant, Steffen Nielsen who had been a dock worker in Copenhagen before working his way up to Port of Copenhagen director in lightning fast speed, and finally Peter Halkjaer who Jock had known as he was already on the board at Skovshoved. But the general feeling was that Jakob was going to win yet again and nothing would be changing.
That was of course all wrong, and as the old saying goes, it’s never what you know, but who you know.
Previous chapter – A good heart to heart is what we need
Chapter 1 – The beginning