A former Premier League manager approached us here at GSITM and asked that we publish his diaries, so he could show the public what life is like out of the game. His only request was that he remained anonymous. Below is this week’s entry:
This may be my last diary entry for a while.
Writing this diary each week for you adoring readers has been a wonderful experience. Truly life-affirming, in fact. Who would have thought that my day to day adventures would have been this entertaining? I certainly didn’t. It took the editor weeks to persuade me to start submitting them. Weeks and several hundred pounds. My time is precious you see.
You now know me rather well. After all, I have written down my innermost thoughts and feelings on this very site. But I don’t know you. Of course, I have imagined who you are several times. Sometimes, you were a tired accountant, desperately trying to entertain yourself during a dull day at work. On other occasions, I pictured you more as a labourer. Perhaps eating a pie in your van, trying to entertain yourself with a thought-provoking piece of writing. Of course, it’s more likely you are a football manager yourself, reading in the hope that I will divulge a great truth that will improve your managerial abilities. If that is you, please contact my agent.
What have been my favourite entries? Well, sadly, some of them are on another, far more disgusting website. But I will press on with my favourites regardless:
I had a strange coming together with Sean Dyche, which resulted in him going into some sort of nationalistic fury. After I took too many sleeping pills, I passed out live on Faroese TV. Sadly, or perhaps thankfully, I killed my neighbour’s dog. Early on in my consulting career, I saved Bournemouth, Leicester and Everton’s seasons. My meetings with Gary Megson and Mark Hughes both turned violent. I had a failed attempt to diversify when I designed Leeds United’s new badge. In my later consultancy meetings, I saw the end of three Premier League manager’s careers, all of which were certainly beyond rescuing. I met Lionel Messi, Pep Guardiola and Ivan Gazidis, three meetings that all ended in someone (sometimes me) being injured.
In fact, when they’re listed out like that it sounds almost fictional. But I assure you, every single thing I have written has actually happened to me. My life is this exciting, although I am aware that not everyone is in such a privileged position. All I hope is that in some small way, I have improved your miserable existence.
I would imagine you’re now wondering what exactly I will be doing while I’m not writing this enthralling diary? Well, after my management consultancy business was supremely successful, there has been a lot of interest on the continent. Several low and medium profile clubs have been in contact enquiring about my services.
On top of that, I have decided to make the pilgrimage that every football manager must make… No, I’m not visiting Avram Grant’s favourite massage parlour. I’m going to see the World Cup in Russia. Yes, it’s not the safest place for an Englishman to visit right now but if that was our attitude, we would have never had an empire. (Editor’s note: Alan is in no way travelling to Russia to conquer it. Don’t worry Mr Putin).
I need to see football played at its best. By the true champions of the game: Messi, Ronaldo, Jesse Lingard. While I’m out there I will be picking up as many tips to help the Wolfsburgs, Veronas and Sparta Pragues of this world. Hopefully, I will learn enough to move up to the biggest clubs: the Hoffenheims, Fiorentinas and Dinamo Zagrebs.
But do not fear reader. I will return in due time to write this diary again. When I do, it will be filled with global adventures, the likes of which you’ll have never read before! Maybe I’ll come back with a big beard and an eyepatch, which will signify the toll my travels have taken? Who knows? All I know is that I will be back. And I will have done something weird. Or made a middling league club move up a few positions in the league.
