Category Archives: Spartan Folly

The Call

It always starts with a call. “Hello?” A bluff voice booms out of the handset. “Eoin me old mate, I hear you’re doing great things with that local team of yours” “Um.. Thanks? I’m… I’m sorry, who is this?”

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Misdirected.

Two flights, 12 hour in the air, one confused call the the club secretary from the arrivals hall in Athens International Airport and I finally arrive at Croft Park, Northumberland. Bottles of cheap ouzo clink in the airport duty free … Continue reading

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Personnel issues.

The dressing room door is a plain brown door decorated by a white sign with black lettering reading “Home”. It’s scuffed and scraped from hundreds of careless passers by brushing against it. It swings loosely and quietly when I push … Continue reading

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Mustering of the troops

“ALAN, get in here!” There’s the rapid squeaking of trainers on a linoleum floor as Alan Davies, my assistant manager, tries to hurry to my office without spilling either mug of tea he’s carrying.

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First blood

nerves Some people are drawn from cool iron. Calmly facing every trial life throws at them. No worrying for them. No night sweats, 03:15 wake ups and staring at the ceiling. No wondering if this plan to clog the centre … Continue reading

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And we’re rolling

Alan, when were you going to mention him to me? It’s not like he’s not┬ánoticeable. ┬áI mean, at 6’7″ why haven’t I spotted him before? Does he spend the whole time I’m around sitting down or something? I nearly had … Continue reading

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