Ep.2 Transfer Time

"10 million! They must be having a laugh!" I recoiled in horror as the figure washed over me; the Everton board were as stingy as ever. This would not do. I needed a new right-back, enforcing defensive midfielder and an exotic winger, all for 10 million. I had three weeks.
     For hours I trawled the transfer market, searching player profiles from all corners of the globe, each one being too expensive or recently joined new clubs. The reaction was always the same: jog on. That's when I found him. The archetypal full-back for my style of football: a combination of blistering speed, pin-point crossing and defensive solidity. Gregory Van Der Wiel was his name and I picked him up for a fee of around four million no problems posed; I was getting good at this game job. Next up was the defensive mid and I knew only one man up to the task.
"Get me on the next plane to Ghana, I need to see a man about a beast.". Not being real, my assistant manager didn't tend to follow my instructions much. Typical...
     Now, the majority of players I buy are African or of African decent, call me Allan Pardew, but it is all for good reason. Generally they tend to be more hardworking, faster, stronger and deadlier than any other continentals. I for one would prefer a player raised on the streets of Konongo rather than a dodgy council estate in Greater Manchester. After already agreeing a fee with his club, AC Milan, I travelled to Ghana to attempt to coax Sulley Muntari back to England. He was having none of it.
"I am happy here at my current club and feel a move away would affect my career negatively." After offering more money and feigning surprise at his miraculous change of heart, I headed back to Merseyside to engineer my final transfer: the Belgian Roland Lamah. For 1.5 million he had near to sod all technical ability but who cares? This guy was fast, strong, not Leon Osman, fast, decent crossing, fast. He had the lot. Did I mention he was fast?
"Charlie, are you alright?"
"What?"
"You were lying on the floor, repeatedly mumbling "fast" and drooling down your chin"
"Oh well," I shrugged "Pre seasons not gonna play itself"