“Look Thommo, he ain’t going! He’s only just got into Droylsden, what the hell makes you think he’ll even get into Celtic?“ “Honestly Steve, he’s good enough!“ “Like you were ‘good‘ enough for Newcastle, eh? Listen to me, Alan! He’s 15!“
I shut the door as I walked back in from after-school training. My dad and my cousin were having a blazing row. Apparently, Alan thought I would be good enough to join him at Celtic. I thought about it as I hung my blazer up. I don’t want to move to Glasgow, really, was my first thought. And honestly, it was the truth.
18th January, 2012 Salford, Manchester.
Phelan Leaves OT To Take Wolves Job
I handed the paper back to Gill.
“So, any ideas, David?“ I asked him. “Who’s gonna replace him?“
“I thought I’d let you pick, Danny. Your decisions so far since arriving have been nothing short of inspired. So, any ideas?“ He replied, with a smile.
“I suppose I have an idea. An old family friend, family actually. He’s got experience – captain, assistant, 1st team coach. Here.“
I wrote two words on the paper. Alan Thompson.
A couple hours later, I was stood out in the North Stand.
“Look, Alan. I can get you a new job. Better then being Neil Lennon’s whipping boy. You know Phelan’s left, don’t you?“
“Aye.“ I heard him reply. “It’s like Preston all over again, ain’t it laddie?“
“I suppose it is Alan. Will you take it?“
“I’m sure I’ll be able to make it down. Tell Gill to get a contract written up, Danny Boy“ He laughed. “I’ll see you in a few days.“
I shut the phone. I still hated him calling me Danny Boy. But he is family, I mused.
The team, mostly the youth lads, were buzzing after the 6-0 demolition of Burton in the cup. I’m pretty sure he’d get along with them quite well. That, and he’ll be here for the QPR match, at least.