The Meeting.
The alarm sounded, dead on time at 9 am. As I brushed the sleep from my eyes, I realised that Emma had already awoken and as the smell of bacon invaded my nostrils, I realised that she was making me breakfast.
As I wondered down the stairs, still not fully awake, I was welcomed by the Ozzy monster. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs he jumped up and gave me his annoying squeaky toy that my mother had got him for Christmas.
"Not now Ozzy. Give me a chance to get some grub." I took his toy and put it on the floor.
"Morning sweetie," Emma said as I walked into the kitchen. "You hungry?"
I sat down at the table and replied, "Just a bit babe. Are you making egg and bacon sarnies or a fry up?"
"Fry up. You'll need all your strength if your travelling to Ireland."
"Actually I'm not." I said, "He's meeting me in town. He's here on business anyway so he thought he'd kill two birds with one stone."
Emma didn't say anything. She just served my breakfast. We ate it in silence but not because we were angry at each other, it's because Emma knows it's futile to try and speak to me whilst I'm shovelling food into my noise hole.
After I'd finished, I had the three 'S's that all blokes have in the morning, brushed my teeth, got dressed and left for Peppino's. The little Italian place in town, where Mr. O'Callaghan was going to meet me.
As I arrived, Mr. O'Callaghan stood up and shook my hand. Jesus, I thought I'd make a good impression by getting here half hour early and he's already here.
"Take a seat lad." O'Callaghan said.
I sat down and looked to my left. A copper topped fellow sat looking at me. I thought to myself, if this isn't a job offer then I'm gonna lamp that bloke. He was freaking me out just staring. Then suddenly he broke into a smile, extended his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Thomas Long. We spoke on the phone last night." I shook his hand.
Mr. O'Callaghan started to speak, "As you may or may not of heard our current manager, John McDonnell has been taken seriously ill and he will not be able to be in charge this coming season."
"I'm sorry to hear that." I said with the greatest of sincerety.
"Indeed, it is a terrible loss to the club. But hopefully he'll be up on his feet in no time." O'Callaghan paused to take a sip of his tea. "Look, let's not beat around the bush. I've heard through the grapevine that you've done some wonderful things with some of the youth teams alongside your father."
"Yes, my father and I have managed a few of the local teams around here."
Suddenly Thomas piped in, "Mr. O'Callaghan is offering you the position of manager for St. Patrick's Athletic."
"I'd be happy to do it. Honoured even." I felt like hugging the old bloke.
"Now then Stephen, you have to understand that this will be only temporary. I'm afraid once John recovers then he is more than welcome to walk straight back into the job. That's if he recovers of course." I nodded in agreement. "Don't worry though," Mr. O'Callaghan continued, "if that happen then we're more than willing to give you the under-18s job and if John gets fired or retires then you will take the reigns full time, depending on your success in your trial period. So to speak."
I didn't care that it was only a 'trial period' as he put it. Maybe I could open some eyes in the lower English divisions with my dazzling display of tactical awareness and sexy football.
Mr. O'Callaghan and Thomas stood up and shook my hand one more time. "So we are agreed. We will fly you in to Dublin next week to sign the contract." Thomas said as he shook my hand. I nodded as they left the restaurant.
I sat there in disbelief that I'd just been offered a real job in football management. My thoughts were disturbed by a waiter. "Can I help you sir?" I looked at him startled, then ordered a bacon sandwich to go. | 
