Novels2Search

6.14 - The Supporters Trust

14.

The Fans Forum had been moved from the Blues Bar with its 120 capacity to the weightier Crowne Plaza Hotel in the city centre. The conference room's primary colour was beige, offset by wood panelling and magnolia ceilings. The vibe was stuffy and businesslike, and the business of the day was shouting at Max Best. To that end, three hundred golden-legged, cream-coloured chairs had been laid out in rows. A flurry of late arrivals meant the hotel staff were rushing around adding more.

Three hundred plus Chester fans were sitting, most with their arms folded, glaring at me. Dotted around the crowd I saw plenty of faces I knew - Crackers (the blind architect) and Sumo (the Twitch streamer) from last year's board. Sean and Ollie, the xenophobic former board members who had tried to get me voted out at the last mid-season Fans Forum. On the front row there was Sandra and Ruth next to the Brig and Barnesy. The two army veterans looked relaxed and interested, but every now and then they'd scan the room and I realised they were both on the lookout for maniacs. Bulldog, Tyson, Benny, and Future's grandmother were part of a gaggle of parents from the youth teams.

Here and there were players from the first teams - Henri, Glenn, D-Day, Charlotte, Bonnie, and Angel. In a sort of halo around Angel the men weren't folding their arms and weren't glaring, but their wives and girlfriends were.

On the stage to my immediate left, without a microphone by request, was Emma. She claimed to be there offering moral support, but almost every time I opened my mouth to answer a question she coughed or poked me. What happened to self-regulation? She was the Sentinel made flesh!

Then it was me, and to my right, Jackie Reaper, to his right, Ryan Jack, followed by MD and Secretary Joe.

Starting in the middle but with a chair over to the side for when the questions started, was our host for the evening, Boggy.

What were the stakes of this event? I could repair my relationship with the fans, or ruin it. Build or break. Grow or go. Marry, fuck, kill. There was no immediate danger of being sacked - unless I fell all the way off my trolley MD would give me the rest of the season. Strangely, the highest stakes were with Emma - if I behaved myself I could spend three days a week with her. That thought was almost enough for me to behave myself. Almost.

Seeing the fans there, judging me, resenting me, was getting on my tits.

***

Unedited transcript of the Chester Fans Trust Mid-Season Forum dated Friday, 2nd February.

On the panel: Mike Dean (MD); Joe X (Club Secretary); Max Best (DoF, Men's First Team Manager); Jackie Reaper (Women's First Team Manager); Ryan Jack (player); Boggy (host).

Boggy: Ready to begin? [cough] Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'd like to offer you a warm welcome to this Fan's Forum. My name is Boggy and I'm the host of Seals Live and the official Chester podcast. I don't think anyone on the stage needs an introduction except for one. This is Emma, Max's lawyer. She'll be making sure he doesn't say anything interesting.

[laughs from the stage; dead silence from the audience]

Max: Can I say something real quick? That woman who just came in isn't a Chester fan. She's a journalist. Let's boot her out like she wants to boot out my mum's care workers. Out of the country, that is. Then we can get going.

Secretary Joe: Oh, sorry, Max. She's a member.

Max: Holy Christ. You let anyone in if they give you twelve quid? That's crazy. Second point. It's very dangly up here. We have a women's team, you know.

Jackie: Bonnie was booked to be the player rep but she swapped with Ryan so he'd get a bit of attention.

Ryan: Get bent.

Max: Class, Bonnie mate. You can do one of my post-match interviews instead if you want.

[inaudible retort]

[laughter]

Boggy: I think we can all agree it's going to be a busy night so we'll skip most of the pleasantries. Perhaps a quick recap of the season so far is in order. The men are top of the league and into the Cheshire Cup semi-final. They had a memorable FA Cup run which included an astonishing win over Salford City and our very own Benny scored in the Second Round.

[applause]

Boggy: The women's team, led by Jackie Reaper, are keeping track with league leaders Altrincham and only a last-minute Altrincham equaliser stopped us from beating them and topping the table. There has been some rare silverware in the youth system with the under twelves winning in Liverpool.

[applause]

Boggy: All in all, the club is in fine fettle and robust health.

[a pin drops]

Boggy: Right. To the questions! We thought we'd start with an easy one.

Max: Hold up. Easy one? How do you know what the question will be?

MD: The questions have been vetted.

Max: MD, what are you doing? They'll think I've insisted on that! Like I'm fucking Stalin. Let them ask what they want.

MD: We thought tempers might run high and we want to make sure there's a civil, productive discussion. I'm sure that everyone will behave themselves and when they've heard what you have to say everyone will leave here happy and optimistic. This is merely precautionary. We have microphones for the audience so if you want to have more of a discussion with an individual fan, we can do that.

Boggy: It's also a time issue, Max. Normally at these things, fans preface their questions with lengthy descriptions of their history as a supporter. It can get quite repetitive and doesn't add much to the discussion. So, first question is for MD. The bathrooms in the Harry McNally Terrace aren't cleaned enough. What do you plan to do about it?

MD: That's something that's a top priority -

Max: Scuse me. Is that seriously the first question?

Boggy: Yes.

Max: [laughter] If you've organised the questions in terms of increasing unhappiness so that I have to end with a rousing speech to win the fans back, then mwah. Chef's kiss.

MD: So, the bathrooms. The current issue is -

***

I tuned out. Delaying the inevitable might have seemed like a good idea to MD and Boggy, but for once I wanted to rip the plaster off. Get the unpleasantness over with!

I contemplated the worst case scenario. If I got sacked that evening, I'd lose the 500 pounds a week income I had from the club. Ruth wouldn't kick me out right away, but I'd find myself homeless soon enough. The Brig would get his money and I'd be left with a few thousand to tide me over. I'd played for two teams this season, so unless I got special dispensation I wouldn't be able to sign for a third one.

What could I do? Be the assistant manager at Tranmere - except Facegate had caused a huge stir and Mateo might want that to die down before inviting me back to his gaff. So that left taking over as manager at some other club. I wasn't stressed about getting an offer - the curse said my reputation was 'very poor' but the teams we'd been thrashing four and five nil didn't see it that way. If they could get me, they would. My talent was undeniable.

And my skills had increased even further in recent weeks.

In January I'd powered through to get the 10,000 XP I'd dangled in front of Old Nick. There was only one match where it felt like work - that was a long Monday night drive to watch Brighton on the south coast. It was good I did that, though, because far from getting to 10K on the twentieth or twenty-first like I'd blithely expected, I had to scramble for last-minute five-a-sides to grab the final few hundred XP I needed. Wondering if I'd find those last matches felt very much like the old days when I was scrambling to get the XP needed for Super Scout.

With my wallet bulging, I'd made two purchases.

For the discount price of 1,000 XP, I bought Masterpiece Theatre, which would allow me to more precisely position players at set pieces. I hadn't used it yet.

Then I'd used a 5% voucher on Contracts 2 and bought it. That was hilariously overpowered. I had it in time for Liverpool Women versus Arsenal Women and the results were shocking.

One Liverpool player was earning 350 pounds a week - the same that I was paying Charlotte to be part-time. Liverpool's foreign stars were better paid, including one on 1,000 a week. Arsenal were paying a lot more. Their star striker was earning 6,000 a week. Way, way below her male equivalent, but pretty decent.

The contract screen had some other tasty morsels.

Squad Status told me how important each player was with phrases such as invaluable to the club, important first-team player, used in a squad rotation system, backup for the first team, hot prospect for the future, or decent youth player.

Bonuses was a space for things like goal, assist, or clean sheet bonuses. They were less common than I expected.

Clauses showed scenarios that would change the contract. A few older players had a manager release clause - a club could sign that player as their manager and not have to pay compensation. Many had a release clause like Raffi Brown's. The ones I saw were too high to be interesting but if Christian Fierce was worth 100,000 and he had a release clause for 70,000, that was an obvious source of arbitrage. Many players had relegation clauses. If their club went down it would trigger a release clause (so the players could escape). But the clubs had their own protections, too. Most players would get an immediate 25% pay cut if Scenario B happened.

Most useful to me, maybe, was the contract expiry date. If Christian Fierce had a contract until 2027 it was going to be hard to get him out of his club. But any players whose contracts ended this summer could be signed for free! With young players I'd have to pay compensation - set by a tribunal if I couldn't agree terms with the club - but for guys over 24 there was no cost.

In theory, I could sign eleven out-of-contract players and have a whole new team ready for the first match in August. There was even an expiring contracts filter in the player search screen. All I needed to do was rescout everyone I'd ever scouted and hey! Dozens of players who I could negotiate with.

Just top, top stuff. I was going to be one of the football world's biggest nuisances!

Unlocking Contracts 2 led to two new perks becoming available in the shop.

'Future' was 900 XP and promised to tell me how players felt about their future at a club. It made sense that I needed to unlock Contracts 2 and Morale to get to that one. That perk felt like a medium priority buy. It would be amazing to grab it and scout Mo Salah. The Saudi Pro League had tried to buy him again, and again Liverpool had rejected an enormous bid. He'd probably have doubled or tripled his salary if he'd been allowed to leave, same as the many stars who had moved from the top European leagues in January. What would Salah's Future say? Would quite like to go somewhere warm, actually?

Contracts 3 was 1,300. Bit of an odd one. It would simply tell me who a player's agent was. I would discover that pretty soon after I started the process of trying to sign someone, but maybe it would be worth the cost to know in advance. If a player had Bradley Rymarquis as an agent I probably wouldn't bother, right? And who knew, maybe there would be some other advantages to knowing.

I nodded to myself. It was intriguing and I wanted it, but it'd have to wait. Next stop was Wibwob, which would cost 9,000 after I used my 10% voucher.

XP balance: 5,024

There wouldn't be any more 10,000 XP months for a while, but it very much looked like I'd get Wibwob by the end of the season. I thought back to the imps chattering ‘get Wibwob, get Wibwob’. Soon I would, unless the February perk was so enticing it blew a hole in my wallet. Angel shook her hair just then and I felt sure the perk would land on Valentine's Day.

Hadn't it been like that last year? Or was February the month the Fantasy Football perk got upgraded? Another upgrade to that would be irresistible.

"Max?"

"Mmm?" I said, reluctantly taking my eyes off Angel. Emma was just as easy on the eye, thankfully. "Bebs?"

"They asked a question."

"Who?" I blinked as I realised three hundred and fifty Chester fans were staring at me - arms still folded. "I was miles away. What was the question?"

***

Boggy: The question's on the very topic of you being miles away. From Ollie. Why did you leave us in the middle of the season?

Max: Oh! It's happening. It's happening, Jackie, are you ready?

Jackie: I was told there'd be popcorn.

[laughter]

Max: Can we get Ollie a microphone, please? No, I'm serious. Ollie, good? All right. I went because it was the solution to lots of problems and for personal reasons. You might remember that I was murdered and while I was on my deathbed I was told I was the new Chester manager.

Ollie: That was terrible, shocking, course it was. Course it was. But you can't use that as an excuse forever.

Max: Excuse? That's a loaded word. That's for when you're saying sorry. I'm not saying sorry. This isn't an apology. I haven't done anything wrong. So I wake up, learn to walk, and then it's full on, twenty-four seven Chester Chester Chester for months and months and months. I'm managing the men's team, the women's, going to schools to scout kids, looking for coaches, watching video of our opponents, writing the match programmes. Think about it. It's bonkers. Did I complain? What, about doing everyone in this room's dream job? No. But it's tiring, isn't it? It's a punishing pace I was doing. So Tranmere was a break. A change is as good as a rest.

Ollie: But -

Max: Ollie, be honest, now. Are you actually listening to me?

Ollie: I am.

Max: What did I do? I played one game a week, trained in the morning like a normal player without having to wonder why D-Day is dogging his sprints or having to take a break from a drill to sign some document. I used their coaches and facilities in the afternoons. Got myself sharp. Cleared my head. It was great. I needed it.

Ollie: But why Tranmere, though?

Max: Why not?

Ollie: They're rivals.

Max: Ah. So here's one thing we're going to learn tonight. You and I are very different. We think differently about everything. I don't hate Tranmere and I never will. Ditto Wrexham. When you sing your anti-Wrexham songs I get demotivated. I don't want anything to do with that. After my murder the football clubs that helped me most were, number one, Chester. Thanks! Two, Tranmere Rovers. Three, Wrexham. Four, Manchester City. I mean, what a list, but that's the truth of it. No-one told me hating Tranmere was a prerequisite for this job, by the way. That didn't come up in the job interview, do you know what I mean? So you can bin that whole thing. Tranmere were unbelievable to me. Unbelievable. And I've gone there and repaid them. I'm very, very pleased with myself.

Ryan Jack: Tranmere's a top club. Great people.

Jackie: I like Tranmere. I'm made up they're safe. There's football rivalries and there's real life. Max chose real life, for once. I'm proud of him.

Max: Thanks, mate. Listen. I spent a lot of time walking around Merseyside in the past month and there's a bit of nice stuff and there's a lot of poverty. A lot of deprived areas. Places and people abandoned by this government, left to rot. It's like where I grew up but where I grew up there's a posh bit next door. There's no posh bit there. There's destitution. It's proper shocking. What they've got that keeps them going is their football teams and if I brought a few smiles to a few faces then yeah, pleased with that. Pleased with that. The far-right journalist at the back is writing this down under examples of me promoting Marxism or some tripe, but I don't think working class people should turn on each other. Complain about my friends all you want. They're my friends and when they're in trouble I want to think I'll be there for them.

Ollie: Are you telling us to stop singing about other teams?

Max: It's your club. Do what you want.

Ollie: What we want is for our manager to be with us for the whole season.

[applause]

Max: Why?

Ollie: What?

Max: Why?

Ollie: Because.

Max: Because why?

Ollie: For a start, it's the transfer window.

Max: We'd done our business. Got ahead of it, sorted it all. The rest of the month's just noise. You think loads is happening because there's rumours and fake Twitter accounts and all that shit, but there's not. We said we were done and we were done.

Ollie: You didn't replace Ryan when he got injured.

Max: Ryan is irreplaceable. If we had infinite cash like the Premier League or the Saudis, we would have done it. The cupboard's bare but that's fine. Sandra and I will find creative solutions. You're talking like the entire club fell off a cliff because I popped out to Asda to buy some Hobnobs. We're top of the league, mate. We're smashing everything. We've scored the most goals of any team in the top six divisions. I didn't wake up one morning and leave a note on MD's desk, did I? I planned it. Got replacements, got everything sorted. It was smooth as silk.

Ollie: It's embarrassing, though, isn't it? We're a laughing stock. Our manager's scuttling around the pitch at Tranmere like an obedient dog.

Max: Do you reckon they're laughing at Bradford Park Avenue?

Ollie: Yeah.

Max: Four-nil home, four-nil away. Are they laughing in Farsley? Five-nil. Boston? Six-nil. We did this last year, Ollie. You were worried about fans laughing at us. We're never going to agree on it. We've got our foot on the accelerator and we're leaving this league far behind. Soon you won't be able to hear them, mate.

Ollie: What about York? Four-nil. If you'd been playing, we'd have won that, and we'd be six points clear.

Max: What's it like being a multi-millionaire?

Ollie: You what?

Max: You've made tens of millions of pounds betting on sports. What's it like?

Ollie: I haven't. What?

Max: But you're a hundred percent sure we'd have beaten York. I just think you're missing a trick if you haven't monetised that skill, yet. And you could come help us pick the teams. If we're going to win five-nil with this lineup, what happens if we rest Glenn Ryder? Does it go to two-nil? We could really optimise the season if we could harness your powers.

Ollie: You know what I mean. We wouldn't have lost four-nil and been embarrassed.

Max: There's that embarrassment thing again. Teams lose matches. I seem to remember us losing a few matches last season. Did I...? [Quietly] Stop poking me, bebs. I'm being nice! [Normal volume] Here's my promise to you - as long as I'm manager we'll continue to lose matches heavily. Four-nil's nothing. Because here's another difference between you and me. I was proud of that match.

Ollie: Proud?

Max: Yes, mate. One-nil down, it's tight, York are playing great, what do we do? We try to smash them. We try to win. They hit us on the counter. What do we do? The same. Nothing's changed. We can get three quick goals, easy. Let's slap! York get a third. Nothing's changed. We can get four quick goals, easy! We want to win every game. We play to win every game. We'll lose some. So what? It's three points for a win. Mathematically, it's better to play to win than to try to scrape some draws. And that's why I know we're going to win the league. Because we played against one of the best teams the way we play against the worst. Because we know we can win every single game. And I'm proud that it happened when I wasn't there. It shows that Sandra and the players believe in me and trust what I'm doing.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Ollie: At least someone does.

Max: What?

Ollie: Look at your questions, there. You'll find a lot about trust. About honesty. And loyalty.

[applause]

Max: Boggy, give me that list.

Ollie: There's a lot of hurt, Max. You've hurt people by leaving. You've hurt people by diving into Tranmere's fans to celebrate like you've never done here. You've hurt us by turning our club into a circus. We can't trust you but you seem to have free rein to run the club as you want. You've turned it into your own little playground and you don't talk to the new board. You were still a little prick last year but at least you talked to us. You had a plan for the worst case scenario and it was reassuring. You don't talk to the current lot. You keep saying it's our club but you act like it's yours. In every respect, whether it's chucking money around like there's no tomorrow and breaking your promise not to do another Boost the Budget this year, you're unreliable. You won't sign a contract, you've run off for a cushty little jolly at our rival, and you've bought a small team and sent our players there to line your own pockets. And you've turned down huge bids for Raffi Brown that would make a huge difference to a club like ours. I mean - [laughs] - I could go on.

[standing ovation]

Boggy: Perhaps we could -

Max: Ollie. What do you want? Do you want me to quit right now?

[murmur of discontent]

Ollie: Er... No, Max. I think you're a prick, personally, but I like watching the team. And when you're smashing Darlington you're our prick. Every football fan wants a prick like you on their team. But you're not our prick. You're your prick.

Max: What do you want?

Ollie: I want you to commit to the club.

[applause]

Max: Boggy, give me one of those mics so I can walk around like Gordon Gekko. Thanks. All right. I get the picture. Ollie's spoken for you all, sounds like, and there's these questions. Where's the money going? How can we trust someone who leaves on a whim? Why can't you ever be honest with us? Fine. Let's get into it all. You ready? This is going to be fucking epic. Got a spare pen, Beth?

MD: Max, maybe we should -

Max: Let me tell you about money, first. My weekly wage is five hundred pounds a week right now. I get a little bit from my clients from when I was an agent, which I remind you you all knew about when you offered me this job. The Tranmere gig was pretty substantial, financially. I got the money today and I've never seen those sorts of numbers. It'll keep me going for a while. It'll let me stay at a low-paid job for longer. It'll let me stay here for longer.

Secretary Joe: You got paid already?

Max: Yes. Why?

Secretary Joe: But... nothing. Sorry.

Max: I know I'm not going to get rich managing Chester. I know that. And it's fine. I'll make enough from side hustles, I think. If the Saudi Pro League asks me to go and manage one of their teams next January and the money's right, I'll go! Why wouldn't I? One month there could keep me fed for a year.

Jackie: What about your morals, Max?

Max: My morals are why they have to pay double. Right, where shall we start? How about... loyalty. Lots of complaints about my loyalty in these questions. What happens when I lose five matches in a row? I get sacked. Okay. Please explain to me what loyalty means. Five defeats equals the sack. We could go down the 92 teams in the football league and ask how many would survive losing five in a row. Pep would. Klopp would - and did, I think. Man United's guy would, but that's only because the owners wouldn't even know it had happened. Most of the 92 are getting sacked. We're going to win our league this year. Next season it's the National League. Bigger teams, harder opponents. We'll struggle at the start of the season and you lot will be out for blood. So I'm always two weeks away from being unemployed and I get punished for bringing you to a higher level. Loyalty? You have got to be joking.

Ryan Jack: That deserves applause, if you ask me. You're bang on, Max. Bang on the money.

Max: Communication. You want me to talk to the board and talk to fans more, not just on podcasts. Right. Okay. Why? There's three hundred and fifty people in this room who think they can do this job better than me. I can tell you two who might have doubts - Jackie and Sandra. Because they know how fucking hard it is. Everyone else knows better than me. The board, incredibly, comprise seven floating megabrains who have very strong opinions on the rotating of goalkeepers, of formations, and which players should be bought and sold. It's astonishing! You'd think I'd be delighted to have such a resource, but no, because I'm being sarcastic.

[inaudible]

Max: Yeah, I know, babes. [sigh] Okay. Deep breath. I don't want to have football conversations with you. Because they aren't conversations, they are diatribes where you tell me what I'm doing wrong. You don't listen when I explain that the thing you think is true is false. You hear things on talkSPORT and podcasts and you believe the last thing anyone told you. You go to matches and scream at the players to do the exact opposite of what I've told them. A midfielder gets close to the box? Shoooooot! After I've screamed in his face and risked my relationship with him because that's the last thing we need. What do you cheer? Tackles. So players want to do tackles. After I've been paying elite coaches to train them not to tackle. What do you hate? Passing backwards to draw teams out. Which is a great way to win football matches. What do you do when a player makes a mistake? Bury him. It's savage. And me and a team of specialists have to spend three days building his confidence back up.

Boggy: It's ingrained, Max. I've learned a lot in the last year but I still love a good, old-fashioned crunching tackle.

Max: Sure, who doesn't? But it's my job to know what helps us to win and what makes us lose. I know that down to the Nth degree. The balance of risk and reward is insanely complicated and constantly changing, even within micro passages of play. I think about it non-stop and I'm amazing at it. You can have your opinions and shout them all over the pub, but don't waste my time with them. That's got to be fair enough, right? The board's job is to make sure I've not got my hand in the till. It's to make sure the club's stable and the fans' needs are being met. They simply don't have the expertise to question me on footballing matters. It's not a very nice thing to say but there we have it. If you want someone on the board to represent you on football matters like signings and formations then you need to elect a former player or someone with a coaching badge.

Boggy: Would you want to meet such a candidate and give him the okay, so to speak?

Max: That's absurd. I can't tell you who to elect. Just don't send racists. You don't need a former player on the board to check my work - you can ask Jackie or Ryan or another player. Does this guy know what he's talking about? How's training? Are you fit? Are you being treated fairly? And so on. The board could do it like that. Or they could look at the league table and say oh that's weird we were nearly relegated ten minutes ago how's he done that?

Jackie: They want you to talk to them, Max. That's all.

Max: That's not all. They're football fans. They always want more than they've got. They always want more than I can give. So how about I give them nothing? They're equally unhappy but at least I've saved some energy to do the job.

Jackie: You're exaggerating a little bit. You could talk more than you do.

Max: Like what? December 20th. Tweet from Max Best. Hey guys, deep in negotiations with Banbury trying to sign one of their players. You'll never guess who! Lol! Oops their fans are outside the stadium trying to block the deal. Oops another team is bidding. Might be better to do deals in private, don't you think?

Jackie: Not every signing is that controversial. Chris Beaumont was a lot of money. You could explain why you value him so much and you could explain what you're thinking about upcoming games. Let fans know what tactical problems you face.

Max: Or I could just call the other manager and tell him my line up and what we're going to try to do.

Jackie: Come on, lad. If this lot knew how much effort you put into what looks effortless, they'd have a different opinion of you. They don't see the graft and the hours. Give them a hint about how hard it is and how good you are.

Max: But why? Just cheer the team, enjoy the goals, enjoy the wins.

Jackie: They want to be involved.

Max: Yeah? I want to involve them. But Ollie wants the moon on a stick and I don't have a moon and I don't have a stick. Right. Last big topic. Trust. Loads of questions on this list about trust. How can we trust you? I want to think you turned the Raffi bids down for a good reason but I can't because I don't trust you. And so on. Trust. Mmm.

Secretary Joe: What? Sorry, I just got a... I have to go check something. I'll be back.

Max: Got to do it in an Arnie accent, mate. Trust is hard, isn't it? Because I don't trust you lot to take my work and continue it. When I lose five matches in a row, and I will, you'll sack me and then you'll dismantle everything I've done. You'll sell Raffi for peanuts, you'll sell Youngster for buttons, and Pascal will be put on a shelf somewhere. The youth teams will be neglected and the next time there's a bit of a cash shortage someone will break my promise to the women and use their budget to prop up the men. I want to build something at this club but sometimes I wonder what the point is. You're all mad at me for something absolutely trivial that didn't hurt the club in the slightest. Where was that anger when the youth system was a smouldering wreck? Where was that anger when the football was reactionary dogshit? When injured players were forced to play? You're mad at trivial shit and you don't value things that are actually important.

Jackie: Fucking hell, Max. [sigh] But when you're right, you're right.

Max: You don't trust me? It's hilarious. Before me, decisions at this club were mostly terrible. Now, they're mostly perfect. I started out fighting for the youth team, fought for the injured players, fought to improve the culture, fought to improve standards in training. I've been fighting and fighting and when I got to my limit I went for a break and that's when you found your voice. That's when you had an opinion. What's funny is that I have extra motivation to get you onside because if I stay in Chester Emma will come and stay with me half the week and that's something I need to happen. I need it. But even with that carrot, I can't stand here and hear all this crap about loyalty and trust. You came to ask me questions. Let me ask you one.

MD: Go on.

Max: Where is everybody?

MD: What do you mean?

Max: I mean last season we were getting 2,000 a match. This season it's up a bit. What's the average home attendance? 2,100? More against Warrington, obviously, local rivals, and they brought a fair few. Most of the bigger crowds have been because teams like York brought a lot of away fans. We're top of the league, we play incredible football, we use kids, it's exciting, we do loads of community stuff, yeah we've had some media attention - that other clubs would kill for by the way - and there's no-one here. Ollie asked why I went into the crowd at Tranmere. Because there's seven thousand people going crazy! Even I couldn't resist. I want that here. The fans we get are noisy. It's a noisy stadium when you get going and I love it. But I want more. I want it full. I want to be so sucked into the moment that I don't even know what's happening. I want to be bombarded with questions about expanding the ground. But there's two thousand people who come, watch the match, have a great time, and go home and tell absolutely no-one about it. We're on track to score 112 goals this season. Why aren't we getting 3,000? 4,000?

Jackie: Only Max would turn a Fans Forum into a Manc Inquisition.

[nervous laughter]

Max: Hey, I get that my tone might be belligerent or fractious or whatever but I'm genuinely asking. I know the ticket prices went up but it's still top value for money. Why aren't attendances going up?

Boggy: I think it's very fair to ask.

MD: I don't know.

Max: Ollie?

Boggy: He doesn't have the mic.

Max: I want to play football in front of seven thousand people. Seventeen thousand people. Seventy thousand people. I'm not like most players but even I had my mind blown by the sheer fucking euphoria of scoring that equaliser in front of seven thousand crazy fans. Players want to play for big clubs in front of big crowds. It'll be easier to sign players when the stadium's full and rocking. Can I get that in Chester or not?

MD: Can I ask a question?

Max: Yes.

MD: What did you mean about building something? You mean getting into the EFL? Expanding the stadium? I’m not sure you’ve ever spoken this ambitiously.

Max: Okay, interesting. Crunch time. I was thinking this was like a relationship. I'm the gorgeous blonde lawyer with the EQ and the barely legal smile. You're the needy Manc twat who can't keep his mouth shut but is somehow still in with a chance.

Ryan Jack: If this kicks off can you all remember that I can't run? Thanks.

Jackie: If this is a relationship then you cheated on us with the club who bullied us in school.

Max: That wasn't cheating. We just danced a little and there was one kiss that got out of control.

Ryan: And she paid you.

Max: And she paid me. Wait.

Jackie: For those at the back, Emma's got questions about Max's definition of cheating.

Max: What I'm saying is that, failed similes aside, I am willing to work on our relationship. For the babies.

Jackie: Is that the youth team now or what?

Max: I don't know. I just said it because it felt good. One sign of a healthy relationship is honesty, isn't it? So I'm going to try being honest and we'll see where that gets us.

Jackie: We just got a double blast of honesty. Not sure we can take much more.

[laughter]

Max: The truth is, I haven't been completely open. Is everyone excited? Here's the deal. I've been looking at the history of Chester City. Before and after World War 2 you were always a solid third tier side. The 60s were a big dip into tier 4, roaring back to 3, crash, recovery, and then it gets terminal about where you got that shitty owner. Overall, a third tier team which gets sucked into trouble every now and then. That's Chester. Am I right, MD?

MD: Yes, I'd say so. Historically.

Max: As far as I can tell, the average attendance in the third tier last year was around seven thousand. So to sustain itself in League One, a club should be looking to have seven thousand fans going to every home game. MD?

MD: Logical.

Max: I personally have very little interest in staying in non-league football for very long. If you guys want to stick around tiers 5 and 6 then I'll stay to the end of this season, grab my trophies, my medals, and my Manager of the Year award, and then I'll fuck off somewhere else, no big deal.

Secretary Joe: Sorry. I'm back. Max, can we talk? It's urgent.

Max: In a second. I'm on one. We're going to win the league this year. If I'm still in charge, we're going to struggle at the start of next season but sort it out in time for a late charge into the playoffs. Hate the playoffs, but we should be pretty good by then. Let's say it's three tight matches and your boy Max Best steps up with last minute winners in every one and celebrates or doesn't as he wants because he's a free man. Boom, we're in League Two. Mate, League Two is a joke. Three teams promoted automatically and one playoff spot? Are you fucking joking? After the National League that's a piece of piss.

MD: Hold on. Are you saying you want to take us to League One? In how many years?

Max: In three years. Weren't you listening?

MD: One promotion per year?

Max: The only hard one is next season. If there's a team like Wrexham or Notts County who are going to get 110 points then we'd need a fast start and we won't get that. Bromley got into the playoffs on 71 points. I don't see how we play 46 games and fail to get 71 points. Come on.

MD: But how would we do it? Wrexham and Notts County had massive investment. If we get promoted our budget will be mid-table.

Max: We do it by using our resources well. Using our brains. Buy low, sell high. We do it by having a full stadium of nutjobs scaring opponents, intimidating referees, and urging our players to grab a last-minute winner. We do it with those goosebump moments where a young player makes a mistake and after a disappointed moment the crowd fucking roars support and encouragement. That's how. And I reckon my haircut's worth about seventy points a season.

MD: You lifted us in the National League North, that's obvious, and we've even got a good shot at winning it. But the National League has some big hitters. There's whoever drops from League Two. Not Tranmere, any more. Grimsby are in danger. They're big! Forest Green Rovers have money. Look who's already in there. Oldham, Chesterfield, Rochdale, Southend. The competition is fierce. It's cut-throat.

Max: Cut-throat? I'll eat their babies. The only question is - can we do it fast enough? Because I'm not interested in sticking around for consolidation seasons. It's up or out for me.

MD: Max, it needs money.

Max: We've got assets. We'll sell Raffi in the summer. There's other players making a name for themselves. And there's ways to improve the squad on the cheap. There's the exit trials. There's young players. I'm coming at it from all angles. The details don't matter right now. You guys, you've got a choice. You let me take you to the third tier or you start looking for a new manager to take over next season.

Boggy: League One seems ambitious, to say the least.

Max: I've already started. There were questions about why we let certain players go and haven't renewed contracts. It's because I'm building a League One team. I reckon we've got seven players who can play in League One.

MD: Seven?

Max: Well, one of them is Ryan. He'll have to turn the clock back a little bit but I reckon he can do a job for us. Stanley Matthews was the best player in Europe in his forties.

Jackie: What about the women?

Max: The women's ceiling is way higher than the men's. If we don't go up this year, it'll happen next and it should be a pretty straight line.

MD: We're not set up to be a League One team. I'm in a panic just thinking about it.

Max: We do it step by step. This summer we don’t need much. We add a reserve team and more youth teams. Every age group for the boys, half for the girls. We need a kitchen and staff. We need some new toys for the training ground. Cameras and stuff.

Jackie: We bought some.

Max: What?

Jackie: Pitch one has cameras all round, now. Sandra films training and cuts bits up for the lads to look at. And we got some ball machines and some bits and pieces.

Max: Okay. Sounds good. Where's Joe gone? He looked worried.

MD: Er... popped out again.

Max: I want to hear from Ollie. Get him the mic.

Boggy: There's other voices.

Max: Ollie speaks for the masses. Everything he says gets applause.

Ollie: If you want to be here for three years, sign a three-year contract.

[applause]

Max: There we go. You're not listening. You want loyalty that you won't give me. I'll sign a three-year contract if everyone in this room puts five thousand pounds - each - into escrow so that if I'm fired after losing five in a row, I'll get that money. It's a marriage you want? Sack me and I get half the club. You wouldn't ever do it. You can't have more from me than you're willing to give, Ollie. I'm the Emma of this relationship and that means that if I get the chance to go off and play in Japan for a month for big money, I'm going to go. If they ask me to manage Ghana at the next African Cup of Nations, that sounds fun. I'll prepare Chester some packed lunches and oven meals and leave notes about which bills need to be paid, go and do my side hustle, come right back, blast you into orbit. That's what I'm offering.

Ollie: Jackie. Help me out. Tell me you're on our side.

Jackie: Max is on your side if you'd only listen to him.

[smattering of applause]

Jackie: It's almost funny watching this. It's like the village has come together to talk about cooking the golden goose.

Max: What?

Jackie: It's an old saying. You don't know that one? But what I think is really funny is that Max is trying to take this relationship to the next level and watching him flirt is incredible. He's always passing himself off as a sort of Mister Lover Lover but turns out he's read that pick up artist book and all he knows is negging.

Ryan: He could learn a thing or two from you, Jack?

Jackie: Reckon so.

[They laugh in Scouse]

Max: I'm not trying to flirt with or seduce Ollie. I'm not in love with Chester Football Club. I want a trophy wife. That's a wife who picks up my trophies.

Ollie: Ah, here we go. This is good. There's a lot of people who can't get past the question, why us? What happens if Man United come calling? If you're as good as you think, that could happen. Will you be off? What about if Tranmere offer you the job? You'll be off then and we'll be stuck with loads of players you rate that no-one else does. Or loads of tiny midfielders on eight-year contracts and we play nice football and ship two goals a game from corners.

Max: You went off track a bit there. Why Chester, right? Emma, is this one where I'm honest? She's not sure. Me neither. Let's try honesty. There's no special reason why it's Chester. You're fan-owned, which is very important to me. You say Tranmere and I think the owner there is fantastic and a great guy but he's a guy and if I make the club successful he'll bag his profit and I'll be stuck with some arsehole. Amazingly, Ollie, I prefer you.

[some laughter]

Max: As for other teams... In April 2021, six English football teams conspired to annihilate English football. They took sledgehammers to the ankles of the sport, tried to nuke the pyramid, tried to end the very concept of competition. Those six clubs got a tiny slap on the wrist from the other 14 Premier League teams who were too cowardly to kick them out of the league like they deserved. I will never, ever manage Arsenal, Chelsea, Liverpool, Manchester City, United, or Tottenham and while I watch United and hope they do well in a general, vague sense, it doesn't move me if they win or lose. Whatever passion I had, they snuffed out that day. If they get new owners and beg and beg, they'll have to do something immense to show their contrition, like give every EFL team a million pounds. So that's them. Newcastle United? Emma knows how I feel about climate criminals and despots. The rest of the Premier League and the Championship is owned by ghouls, hedge funds, billionaires whose faces make my skin crawl. Is it possible one of them makes me an offer I can't refuse? Maybe. But it's a long way down the pyramid till you start finding clean clubs. My standards are so high I've been brought this low. So of all the fan-owned teams it's Chester because Jackie brought me here and while I've been pissing you off since day one, you've let me get on with the football stuff. Oh, another relationship thing. You were a mess when I came and like all incurable romantics I thought I could fix you. If things were more solid, were working better, it might have been hard to switch things round to my way. I can achieve my goals here in a way that might be much harder at some other clubs.

Ollie: Okay, I respect the honesty about us not being your dream club.

Max: I've never said otherwise.

Ollie: I know, but... But what about Raffi? You need money to get players. Why would you turn down bids that we haven't seen here since Ian Rush?

Max: When I scouted Raffi the first time I knew he was a great prospect. He's got the steel that Ian Evans liked and the silk that I like. Almost a perfect central midfielder. But what even I didn't realise was how great he is at getting goals from midfield. We've always had a problem here that teams can shut Aff down and we look uninspired. What I've worked on is Aff left, one of three different guys right, Henri and now Chris up front. Right? So you've got menace from all angles. It's very dangerous. But good defences will cope, even with that. So you add Ryan Jack to get more craft. Amazing, but they might pull a midfielder or striker deeper to try to close up some space. Then! Raffi Brown makes a late run into the box. How do you defend that? You can't stop us if we're coming from all angles. We'll get you one way or another.

Ryan: And if you try a low block, Chris makes mincemeat out of you. [laughs] He's trying to build the perfect football team and you're trying to bin him off!

Max: When I came to Chester as Raffi's agent I said I wanted an eight hundred thousand pound release clause. MD and Ian didn't think twice because it would never get triggered. I knew better, and I think it will get triggered this summer, or someone will get close enough, maybe with some add-ons. But again, that was the Raffi I thought I saw. How much is goalscoring Raffi worth? Goals from midfield have a cash value. It's my job to make hard decisions and there's always an element of risk if you hold out for more money and it never comes. If Raffi leaves this club for free you'll call me incompetent or corrupt or whatever but that's a risk I'll take because I know his value. And by the way, we need him for the rest of the season. I think it's obvious we're relying on him, big time. And if there are no bids in the summer, ouch. But we've got him for next year and wow - wait till you see him then. He'd wreck the National League. Is him shooting us up to the EFL worth four hundred thousand? I've no idea. I'd prefer the money, I reckon, but it's not clear cut. I'm his agent and he trusts me and there are win-win solutions all round. But don't ask me to accept lowball offers because I won't.

MD: I find it stressful to turn down such offers but it's also exciting that we have players like that at the club and that's because of Max.

[applause]

MD: Max, you know I understand your point of view and totally accept that you went to Tranmere for good reasons and left us in good shape, and I know you're going to do more controversial things in the future. So it might just be nice for everyone and for me to hear that although we're maybe not your dream woman, you're happy to be here.

Max: I love managing Chester. I'm a builder and I want to build something awesome, and that's happening. It'd be a gut punch to leave, now, but if you don't like what I'm doing, that's fine. It's your club. I keep saying it because it's true. Here's... Here's what I've been thinking today, because of my girlfriend, mostly. I realised that I can build a team that takes this club to League One. I know it sounds loopy to some of you but I'm really fucking good at it. Can I get eleven players on the pitch who will win most games they play? Yes. Can I organise them so they'll actually win? Yes. Can I find five subs and backup players and young guys to come in like a production line? Yes. All that is various shades of easy.

[inaudible]

Max: Cocky? What's cocky about that?

[laughter]

Max: But what I can't do is sustain that after I've gone. To get to the third tier we're going to need to expand the stadium and buy our own training facilities and equip it and hire chefs and nutritionists and data nerds and media ghouls. I'll make us a profit in the transfer market and leave you with some assets but what then? We need to work together to fill the stadium. To turn my, let's say unconventional ability to generate media attention into cash. To make sure the culture I've created lives on. Some of you might not like it but the players do and that's why it needs to stay. The board need to support MD in driving revenue and working out stadium expansion plans and finding land for a training complex and hundreds of things like that - and leave me to manage the football side.

MD: And you won't pop along to tell us how to do our jobs?

Max: Of course not, mate.

[laughter]

Max: That's all future stuff. This season... it's like we've just moved in together. You're staring at my toothbrush on your bathroom sink and you're thinking... not sure about this.

[laughter]

Max: And I'm thinking, you know what... I could do better.

[laughter]

Max: But I'm here. I'm young but I'm old enough to know the grass isn't always greener on the other side. This relationship could work. It really could. [pause] I'm a human being and I need things. I need breaks from work, I need money, and I need new experiences. I'm open to mad offers, but this is my job. This is my home. I'll be here on the final day of the season. We're going to parade around with our league trophy, our Cheshire Cup, our women's league, our youth trophies. [laughs] I'll bring you my League Two Player of the Month for January, too, if you want to see that. I assume I'll get it. I was fucking amazing.

Jackie: Read the room, Max, Jesus Christ.

Max: Fine, I'll just stick it on my fridge. Hang on.

MD: What? What?

Max: Why do you have tartlets in your fridge if you don't like them?

MD: Who are you talking to?

Secretary Joe: Oh my God! MD! Max! It's really happened.

MD: What has?

Secretary Joe: Just before, I got a big deposit in the club's account. A big one. Eight hundred thousand pounds!

Jackie: The fuck?

Ryan: Eight - Has anyone seen Raffi today?

[inaudible]

MD: Sandra's shouting that he was at training.

Max: Why are you talking about Raffi?

Jackie: Max!

Max: I'm his agent. He can't...

Secretary Joe: You got some money today. Does the amount...? I mean... it's too soon to be from Tranmere.

Max: The fucking transfer window is closed. Everybody calm the fuck down!

Secretary Joe: It's the Saudi Pro League. Their windows are longer. They can still buy players. Max, he's gone. They paid the release money and the paperwork's done. He's gone. Here we go! I mean... sorry.

Max: Saudi? Why would they want a non-league player?

Jackie: Because he's a goalscoring midfielder with a high ceiling, like you said.

Max: But he's not famous. This is all a big misunderstanding, right? Can everyone stop shouting for two seconds? [pause] The buyout fee to change agent is exactly the same as what I was expecting from Tranmere. What the hell...

Secretary Joe: Exactly the same? Did you include taxes?

Max: No. Taxes, right. I won't get full whack from Tranmere. And that explains why the money came from the Cayman Islands. [pause] He's binned me off without a word. He wouldn't, though. Joe, has he really gone? [pause] Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Oh, fucking shit.

MD: Let's take a short break.

Ollie: Is it a break or the end?

MD: It's a break.

Ollie: It's just that Max has run off.

MD: It's just a break. We'll be back in ten minutes. Okay? It's not the end.

THE END