by Chris Harris
Greg and Catherine Brown sat in the Red Lion. They didn’t do dates, but when there were club social engagements, Catherine always agreed to meet Greg a little earlier for a social ‘catch-up’. In one way, it felt a bit insulting that he was only allowed half an hour a fortnight, but, as he had been in the doghouse a month ago, he was grateful for progress.
They waited for the other board members to arrive; they’d all agreed to celebrate the 3G opening and a surprisingly incident-free and successful first week.
She mentioned her friends had been on the phone again, gossiping about Lucy and Michael. Great, Greg thought, his half-hour window was to be spent hearing about someone else’s romance. Apparently, Greg stifled a yawn, Lucy really liked him, but there was the age thing. She enjoyed his company and admitted, perhaps a little awkwardly, that she’d reached a stage where she sometimes preferred it to her circle of friends. He was embarrassingly trying to dress like the younger crowd, failed, and she felt it made her look a bit silly. Her friends were always taking the piss out of him, as most of them knew him.
But every week she began to weigh up the pros more than the cons, and the more he became familiar, the less the age thing seemed to bother her. When she and her friends went out clubbing in Brighton, she hadn’t ended the night sleeping with any of the available young men.
Lucy and Michael were inseparable that evening, Michael wearing a constant, appreciative grin. Catherine reckoned it was only a matter of time. Greg, who had known Lucy for years, thought vanity might still win out and that it could all blow over.
Big Mal was back on top form. It was the first time he and Greg had shared drinks since the fallout, and as the evening went on, and tongues loosened, they spoke openly about their regrets, even telling each other how much they loved one another, to everyone else’s amusement.
Talk drifted, as it always did, to ideas, especially around the reopening of Heaven is a Percolator in the clubhouse. There was a sense that, if properly supported and filled, the concept could really take off when it began trading at the new clubhouse. Brand new, comfortable and very trendy [premises always attracted new business.
Catherine, in her anxiety to leave the garden centre, had not actually struck any deal re. finances and all the talk was of how successful it would be, but now, for her, it was just a new venture at the football club to save her employees jobs and short term to sort out the 3g problem, there had been no discussions on ownership and who made the money.
She had informally agreed with Greg that she would keep 10% of the turnover and the club would foot the running costs, which left a huge ownership void of the new business as the staff were also running the 3g and the café was trading on its own with limited new footfall other than customers from the club. It would lose a load of money as a standalone venture. But hey ho, one for the future, the responsibility was mainly Greg’s and therefore the risk and her actual time involved was virtually nil, so 10% seemed pretty good for now.
Greg was a more astute businessperson and had just told her to wait for the dust to settle, and they would negotiate when the new clubhouse was open, as there would be so many different activities and income streams that it would need time and proper consideration.
It was beginning to look like Piotr’s stint living in the clubhouse might be a long one still, they talked about finding a better arrangement, something more permanent and comfortable, he seemed happy enough, but nobody on the board thought it was a satisfactory arrangement. His work with the under-18s and the women’s team had been faultless, and everyone seemed determined to find a better solution.
Later, standing by his car, Greg looked back at his group of friends. He felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. For all the chaos, all the disagreements, and everything that had nearly gone wrong, they had somehow held it together.
He couldn’t remember feeling more content.
Autumn drifted by in the micro-ecosystem of Denham Phoenix Football Club. October and November saw continued progress on and off the pitch for the club. John Marlow had proved himself to be an excellent replacement for Glenn Nelson, and with only the Sussex Senior Cup to think about, the Phoenix had already built up a 12-point gap at the top of the league. Nelson was nearly back to full fitness, but his erratic behaviour was a concern.
The 3G and padel board court were between two-thirds and three-quarters fully booked. Celina and Jeremy had taken to their duties well under the guidance of Catherine Brown. They had even, on their own volition, begun leaving flyers on cars outside the garden centre, much to the chagrin of Charlie Egham, powerless to challenge lest his Mr Dribble persona be revealed.
Big Mal was lapping it up as the chairman. There’s hardly anyone who visited the ground unaware of his title, for he had been so eager to let everyone know. “I’m the chairman, so if ever you need anything.” There was no arrogance involved; it was pure excitement, dedication, and happiness.
The eco-stand had now fully taken shape, its slightly curved silhouette beaming out like a smile. It was nowhere near actual fitting out and finishing, but a statement of progressive intent; it shone.
Most importantly, despite the efforts of the parish council to block the clubhouse, the local planning authority, approved it, ticking off the council for not considering the importance of the amenity.
It had been the strangest of things. At the beginning of September, out of nowhere, Catherine had told Greg that her friend Katrine’s husband, Dave, who was a parish councillor, wanted to overthrow the current body in charge, all stuck in the mud, old-fashioned fuddy-duddies with no concept of modernity or progressive society.
It was something that Greg had no interest in whatsoever, but at every planning application for the 3G, the stand and the clubhouse, the parish council had raised objections to practically everything. Not the sort of person who felt the need to get even, he felt that, as a village that was beginning to be dominated by the football club on the road coming in, he could give a little bit back by at least ensuring the parish council was properly run.
Besides, Catherine was so passionate about him doing it. He was obviously duty-bound to do so. It was only one evening a week for a couple of hours, so he’d agreed to stand.
Also, the election wasn’t until… April. Maybe the gods would intervene, so he didn’t have to bother.
Love still continued to hover in the air without a conclusion, leaving Michael and Lucy in a constant state of confusion as to their future together. Michael getting frustrated at a lack of commitment. Lucy getting frustrated at Michael’s frustration at a lack of commitment, and Greg getting frustrated at Catherine’s obsession with the will they won’t they when all he could ever think of was whether he and Catherine would ever get together.
Catherine’s Browns’ attentions had been on sorting out the new coffee shop and prepping for Dragon’s Den. But they were now regularly texting each other warm messages of friendship, rather than the previous cold correspondence’s of the machinations and trials of the football club.
Elsewhere, other matters at the club had been settling well. Everything was ticking over nicely. In particular, and what gave him the most pleasure was the job Piotr was doing with the under-18s and the women, both of whom now had 20 people committed for their fledgling seasons in their associated leagues next autumn.
Another two months on and they had not managed to find any suitable accommodation. There were some flats in Lewes, but he was adamant his home was Denham, and with guaranteed work with the contractors until next August, he was happy to stay in the clubhouse. They found room in an old shipping container and were able to deposit the contents of the large storage room he dossed in inside it and they bought him some comfortable furnishings and some decent heating.
A free run at the café food, and despite his protestations, he was put on the payroll, only on a part-time wage, but getting free lodgings, remuneration he felt he did not deserve. Economical Tony reasoned, and never one to spend unnecessary money, Piotr gave far more to the football club in his expertise than a bed and television in a clubhouse and paying him was a way of showing how appreciated he was and would hopefully keep him committed to the club long term.
Attendances were now generally over 600, four times the norm for tier 5, although after such a quick increase at the start of the season, and the groundhoppers from Lewes, it was more a case now of attendances plateauing.
As Ed Stevens kept the budget well below its allowance, Michael Hall, who knew a thing or two about small sports clubs and facilities, was almost awestruck by the club finances. Football clubs at this level rarely even broke even, and the actual week-on-week profit and loss trading showed a significant profit. Of course, the infrastructure projects blew that away, but they were investments in reality, and the pragmatic view of the finances was to view the actual trading in isolation, and it was impressive.
The Supporters Club continued to gain momentum and new members, and with it, any need to employ the labourers working on the stand and other projects on matchday disappeared as volunteers took over the mantle of matchday logistics.
With things coasting at the football club, Greg was getting itchy feet. He spent most of October negotiating over a new showroom in Horsham. which he knew was unnecessary as he was now in a position where he was making a vast amount of money and had already made more than he would ever need, but wealth creation, for fun, was now more of a hobby and something to stimulate him, rather than greed.
The 1st of December was a pivotal date for the club. The planning approval decision for the new stand. Despite the bizarre opposition of the parish council, it had been intimated that no other authority would oppose the development due to its eco credentials and its potential as an asset to the village. So, the approval was just a formality and in truth groundwork had already begun, the builders were chomping at the bit to get on with the project if it was to be ready for the start of the next season.
As planning was a formality, the board did not celebrate, besides the 2nd of December was the day of reckoning for Catherine Brown. Dragon’s Den.
Football #Non League #Content Creation #Football Serial #Denham Phoenix FC
Welcome to Denham nr Lewes 