I was in the Marriott Hotel, Liege, and trying trying not to worry. I was due to meet a high level executive from an Orthodontic Equipment manufacturing company to talk about the possibility of managing their UK Sales division. I was early for my meeting, but what I didn’t realise was there was two Marriott hotels in Liege, and I was at the wrong one.
The hotel I was in was fine. It was more than fine actually. For a typical city centre hotel it was above par, with a view of the River Meuse, largely peaceful in the late June sun. Boats made their way up and down the river, and I tried to brush up on my once-decent French by looking at the local paper while I waited for my appointment to show up.
Suddenly there was a commotion as a bloke came into the room, pointing and talking loudly on his phone as he strode towards me. Almost as wide as he was tall, Jan Swinnen, or The Chairman as he soon became known to me was used to being noticed. “So you’re the Englishman!” He greeted me with a flamboyant handshake and ordered wine. I stuck with my coffee. He asked me what I was going to do for him and I started to talk about management strategies. I didn’t get far, before his phone went off.
I looked at a passenger boat slowly making its way down the River, and tried to work out what his conversation was about. It sounded important, and Jan was excited, but then he always was. He was talking too quickly, and my French wasn’t quite good enough to get the gist of what he was saying. Then he hung up and looked at me. He’d hardly asked me anything but he seemed to have decided something.
"Come. Let’s look at the ground." At this point, we left the hotel and jumped in his car. He shouted "Le Pairay" to the driver, and we were off. Jan rarely stopped talking, and now he was asking me about my plans for my first few weeks in the job. Although asking me isn’t really right. He’d ask me my thoughts but then tell me his before I could answer. But he seemed to like me. In his mind, not only had he offered me the job, but I’d already accepted.
I didn’t understand some of the things he was talking about though. He hadn’t asked me anything about orthodontics, and kept talking about the “squad” and the “training”. Now training is one thing I do know about. I do all my own training, and I told The Chairman it was my strongest area. He seemed impressed by this, and as the car pulled to a stop “You’ll be great” he said, with a satisfied smile.
We got out of the car and through a set of double doors into a foyer of what was clearly the admin area of a business. A secretary came out and The Chairman told her to “Get the contracts, this is the new manager” indicating me. He led me through to a boardroom, where there was a bottle of champagne and a photographer. The Chairman liked to move quickly. The secretary brought the contract in, and before I knew it I was signing it, getting my photograph taken and shaking hands all round.
With a glass of champagne in hand we walked out of the boardroom, and passed a number of photos of what appeared to be sports teams. We walked past a large trophy cabinet and then through another set of double doors that led outside. We were in the middle of a medium sized football stadium, with a team in red and blue doing what appeared to be pre-season training on the pitch. That was when it hit me! The Chairman was exactly that. This wasn’t a sales company, it was a football club. And I had just agreed to become manager!
The Chairman was all activity again, talking loudly on his phone and walking back through the double doors. I put my champagne down and followed him back through the double doors.
I walked back to the secretary’s office, and introduced myself to Dominique. “I need as much information as you can bring me about the club, the staff and the players”. She pointed towards a door behind me, and I noticed it said “Manager” on the door. I walked in and found a simple windowless office, with a chalkboard, a desk and a phone. Dominique bought me in a pile of papers and a coffee. “No time like the present” she said, and left, the door swinging behind her.
I was the new manager of Royal Football Club de Liège (RFC Liège), a club that had won cups and leagues in their history but more recently were known as the club that wouldn’t release Jean-Marc Bosman from his contract, leading to what became known as the Bosman law. They had fallen from grace in the 1980s, going bankrupt once and finally dropping into the Belgian non-league in 2010/11. 
Les Sang et Marines had got promoted last season however, and in the coming season would compete in Belgian Third Division A. The legacy of financial trouble was still there though, and the club were also known as “The Homeless” having lost their 40,000 ground Stade Vélodrome de Rocourt in 1995. RFC Liège now play their home games here, at Stade Du Pairay, in Seraing. Outside the City of Liege itself, Le Pairay has a capacity of 14,000, with 1500 seats.
The club has had a history for bringing through their own players. And with the limited budget I was going to be working with, it looked like I would have to do the same. The staff list Dominique had given me was short: Me. And the facilities for training, youth coaching and development was minimal to say the least. This was going to be a tough job.
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