Luton Town : Staring into the Abyss

[ScottleeSV]

Never heard of him, mate.

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06/08/10 - Updating the brochure

Nipping out to the toilet can be a hazardous business when you’re working in the communal office. You might bump into Bob, Glynn, or Erica. Maybe even Keith Keane if you’re really unlucky.

Today it was Bob.

“Ahoy there, James” he called out, just as I was heading back the other way.

“Morning, Bob”.

“Busy day?”

“Not especially”.

“You should come me with then. I’m just off out to the pitch. They’re doing the photo shoot for this year’s brochure”.

For a minute I didn’t understand what he meant. To help me get over my brain freeze, I leaned against the wall and Bob did likewise. He didn’t hurry me.

“Oh you mean the shirts and scarves and things” I said eventually. “Right”.

“Yeah. Glynn’s out there now and with a photographer and a couple of hired models. Hey, just wait till’ you see female one! Cor blimey!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”.

“Okay, come on then”.

The two of us began walking, him in front and me behind. We couldn’t walk side by side in here because Bob was too fat. Soon we were past the door to the communal office and facing the entrance to the tunnel area.

“She’s a blonde” Bob continued, his hand on the doorknob. “Absolutely gorgeous she is”.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Used to be a Zoo model apparently".

‘Oh Jesus H Christ! Surely not?!’

The inner alarm hadn't initially gone off when hearing the word blonde. I mean seriously, how many blonde models are in there in England? Probably too many to count, especially if you include all the amateurs and wannabes. I bet there are hundreds just in Bedfordshire alone.

But how many of those individuals can call themselves a former zoo girl? Almost certainly not enough as far as I was concerned, and that’s why I turned on my heels and made to go back.

“Err, you know what, Bob? I’m actually really busy today. I think I’ll leave you to it”.

“Leave off! You said you weren’t busy a minute ago. Anyway, come on, this will only take a minute. Seriously, you’ve got to see this girl”.

“No really Bob I – “

“Cam onnnnn!” he said in exaggerated London.

“Okay” I replied sheepishly.

Together we covered the last few remaining yards of the tunnel. Then we ducked under the This is Kenilworth Road sign and emerged in the open air. My stomach was doing somersaults.

Just as Bob had claimed, Glynn and a photographer were out on the pitch facing a man and a woman dressed in the new Luton home strip. My eyes of course moved straight to the woman.

It wasn’t Chantelle.

‘Oh thank God!’

“Hey, are you alright?” Bob asked, noticing me sigh in relief with my hands on my hips.

“Yeah. Just haven’t been sleeping very well”.

“Well anyway, what do you think of her, eh?”

“Yeah, not bad. Not bad at all”.

Secretly though I thought this particular blonde looked a bit tall. Anything taller than me is too tall as far as I’m concerned. Being six foot one, it’s not as if I’m in any way short. The young lady was also grimacing a lot, and that didn’t help. The reason she was grimacing was because the wind was blowing and a light drizzle was falling. She may or may not have also been bothered by the fact she had Osama’s Chemicals written across the front of her cleavage in big white lettering.

Not that the photographer seemed to have noticed her discomfort. As the two models posed first one way and then the other, the guy with the camera continued to dictate things like a conductor at the opera.

“That’s it – a bit more smile – yep – okay, now face slightly to my right – good! – give me more bend in the left knee though, Carla – nice! – oh yeah, that’s really good! – now face each other – a bit closer - come on guys, I want you to make it look like you’re really turned on by the sight of each other in these Luton kits – excellent! – I like that, Rick!”

And of course, just to the photographer’s left (and maybe half a yard back) was Glynn, smiling and nodding his head. He hadn’t noticed me and Bob yet.

Suddenly an extra big gust of wind came out of nowhere and the girl’s hair went all over the place. She seemed very distressed by this, even to the point of calling it quits.

“That’s it!” she squealed, moving off towards the tunnel. “I’ve had enough!”

“Oh come on, Carla!” protested the photographer. “We were almost done!”

“No! Forget it! It’s freezing out here! And no offence but this football shirt is really creepy”.

There was no placating her. She was off. Within seconds she’d walked right through the middle of me and Bob and was gone.

“Okay!” shouted Glynn over the wind. “We're moving to the alternative shooting location”.

“Where’s that?” asked the photographer.

“I don’t know. I’m going to think of somewhere”.

“Why don’t you just go into the canteen?” I piped up. “Maybe you can stand them in front of a huge picture of the Eiffel Tower?”

“Hardy-friggin-ha” Glynn replied. “Haven’t you got a team to manage?”

“Nope. I’m not busy today. Right, Bob?”

“Right” Bob confirmed, smiling.

Glynn shook his head with a smile of his own and began helping the photographer and his male model friend gather up their things.

[Chao Yang]

Rogerio Ceni, age 38, GK, plays for Sao Paulo.

998 Appearances, 101 Goals.

Also, I would also be creeped out wearing a shirt that said Osama's Chemicals~

[CecMcCormack]

Fantastic stuff Scott! KUTGW :-)

Out of curiosity, how are my team, Barnsley, doing?

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks mate. Now then - Barnsley - they're still in the championship on my game.

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06/08/10 - Go getter

It’s often the case on a weekday I won’t get around to reading the newspaper until evening. I should really stop bothering at all though. Newspapers, lad’s mags, I just shouldn’t bother. Tonight I got a real surprise when I reached the sports section of The Sun. I wouldn’t go as far as to call it bad news but it certainly felt like it.

League One Crystal Palace have secured AFC Wimbledon man Steve Fairclough as their new manager. The Yorkshireman has signed a three year deal and will take charge with immediate effect, beginning with Saturday’s final pre-season warm up game against Lincoln. Fairclough guided Wimbledon to the Blue Square South title just over a year ago before establishing them safely in mid-table of the Blue Square Premier. Palace had been without a permanent manager since May

And that was it. Not a very comprehensive piece. Just the facts. I guess even at League One level you don’t get all that much coverage in the nationals.

But that wasn’t important. What was important (to me anyway) was how in the hell Steve had managed to get hired by a club as big as Palace.

Tossing the paper aside without finishing it, I reached for my mobile and dialled Steve’s number.

“Oh yeah!” he said, once we’d gotten to the point. “I was going to call you about that tonight or tomorrow. Truth be told, mate, this week has been manic”.

“Yeah but how did this whole thing come about?” I asked.

“Well I just applied for it duh! Somebody’s got to get it, right? Why not me? I’ve shown I can manage at Wimbledon, so time for a tougher challenge. A bit harsh on Wimbledon maybe, but hey, mine and your goal has always been to get to the very top, right? I mean we were never going to stay at tinpot clubs forever, right?”

“Err yeah. Absolutely mate. Yeah”.

I didn’t tell him so but I felt jealous. Crystal Palace might only be one division above Luton when it comes to league standings, but the difference in terms of club size is probably a hell of a lot bigger. Our average crowds are around five thousand. What do Crystal Palace get? Without checking I bet it’s fifteen thousand. Easy. Maybe more. Put it this way, Steve will this season be managing a club who more or less get three times the crowds my club do. That’s just – wrong - plain wrong.

“So what about you?” Steve enquired. “You got anything lined up? I’d have thought you’d have be putting yourself in the running for all the jobs this summer, especially now you’ve got that league title under your belt. To be honest, I was surprised I didn’t see you waiting outside the chairman’s office at Palace when I went for my interview”.

Steve chuckled after he said that. Not wanting to kill the mood, I joined in.

“Yeah well err not really sure if London would be my scene, to be frank”.

“Oh”.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been looking into my options, you know, looking around. Got a couple of things lined up at the moment actually. Nothing concrete, mind. No pending interviews or anything. But yeah, watch this space”.

“Yeah? Interesting”.

“Been monitoring the situation at a couple of Championship clubs actually”.

“Championship clubs, eh?”

“Yeah. Well, like you said, now that I’ve got this league title under my belt – “

“Use it your advantage! Absolutely mate. Absolutely. Well, I can see you’ve definitely got your head screwed on. No need to bring out my big motivation speech for you”.

I muttered a yeah but, unbeknown to him, shook my head. This conversation was really starting to grate now. And no I haven’t been monitoring any Championship clubs. I haven’t been monitoring Jack s__t. To engage in such activity hasn’t even occurred to me. I’ve had stuff on my mind.

“Well” said Steve, looking to end a break in the conversation. “I’d better get going. See you sometime soon though, yeah?”

“Yeah of course”.

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll meet in the FA Cup?”

“Yeah, you never know”.

“Cool. Okay. See you soon!”

“Bye!”

I closed my mobile and threw it onto the armchair.

‘Crystal friggin Palace’.

[ScottleeSV]

07/08/10, Friendly Match 6

Luton Town v Newcastle United Reserves

GK – Lars Stubhaug

DL – Richie Byrne

DR – Michael McKerr

DC – Tony James

DC – Harry Hogarth

MC – Derek Niven

MC – Keith Keane

ML – Glenn Poole

MR – Michael Taylor

FC – Dean Bowditch

FC – Will Buckley

This was one friendly too far really. Barring unexpected injury, I’d already decided on my starting eleven for Darlington. Today was purely about sharpening up the fitness of one or two people whilst also making sure certain others got enough rest. The opposition featured such esteemed names as Duff, Edgar, and Ranger. I noticed Viduka was on the bench too.

We were in orange and the visitors their famous black and white. The two teams trotted out to The Importance of Being Idle by Oasis. The supporters certainly hadn’t been idle today. Over three thousand had turned out - far more than usual for these games. Anything for a chance to see a Premiership players, I guess.

Fittingly, Newcastle put on a show in the early stages. They should have scored in the first minute, centre back Edgar reminding me why I’ve heard of him by getting into a shooting position on the edge of the area. It was Beckenbaur-esque how he worked the move up to that point (not that I can recall ever seeing Beckenbaur), eventually shooting a foot wide. I opined to Brian that if that had been ten minutes further into the match it would have nestled in the corner.

More half chances came and went. A lot of them were fluffed by Duff. In the 16^th minute Donaldson took a free kick from outside the area that deflected off James and clipped the top of the crossbar. It was from the resulting goal kick we had our first chance, Bowditch squeezing between two defenders only to find himself unable to get the required purchase on the ball to beat Green.

A quiet spell followed. Most of the crowd seemed bored now. I was a bit bored too, if I’m honest. I always get bored around the fifth or sixth friendly.

35 minutes and another attempt from Duff, this one on target. Stubhaug got low down to save. That one had been coming at him with force from no more than eighteen yards on a slight angle. The best thing was, he held onto the ball. Well done, Stubhaug!

As the minutes ticked away to half time, a few dirty challenges went in. The referee though was one of those who doesn’t believe in booking people in friendlies. Keane was loving it.

--------

HT - 0-0

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Me and Brian stayed out of the dressing room for most of the interval. We had a conversation in private about whether to try an unorthodox formation in the second half. There were only forty five minutes of match play left now until the start of season proper. If there was anything left to experiment with, it was now or never.

In the end I opted to keep things the same. Despite the results we’ve been getting I think we’ve been playing okay given some of the sides we’ve been up against. No sense confusing everybody at this late stage. Do I think we can beat the average League Two side given out current fitness, form, and squad strength? I honestly believe we can.

Viduka came on for the second half. I also made changes, albeit not until the hour mark. Spencer, Kearns, Gnakpa, Nicholls, Gill, and Beavon, all came on for Byrne, Niven, Keane, Taylor, James, and Bowditch. Two I didn’t bring on were Moore and Cadamateri, both carrying knocks. I also didn’t bother with Fletcher, deciding instead to give Stubhaug the chance to complete his first full clean sheet in a Luton jersey.

That hope lasted just four more minutes. Ranger went on a merry dance down the left and crossed for danger-man Viduka. The Aussie powered a bullet header low down towards Stubhaug’s knees and the keeper was beaten by the sheer pace of it. He got various bits of his body on it but couldn’t stop it crossing the line. One-nil to the Magpies.

The Newcastle manager then showed no mercy by bringing on a whole raft of players I’m sure everyone in the ground had heard of. Enter the likes of Butt, Enrique, Cacapca, and Lua-Lua.

“Christ, look at this” I said, as the stars jogged on to respectful applause from around the ground.

If they were intent on giving us a pasting however, it didn’t happen. Newcastle are renowned for underachieving and today was definitely a day they underachieved. I’m sure they could have whipped us bad in the closing 25 minutes if they’d wanted to but instead they were lucky to even get away with the win. By my count we had three chances during that period to Newcastle’s two.

The final opportunity went to Spencer in the 88th minutes. The loan man got himself in a great position eight yards out only to take one more touch than he needed. The ball got too close to Green and the keeper manager to muffle the shot. Evans then cleared and the chance was gone.

Anyway, enough of this bollocks. Time for the real business next time I write a report.

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FINAL SCORE (att - 3036)

Luton Town 0

Newcastle United Reserves 1 (Viduka 64)

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[gavrenwick]

Go on Mark. \o/ naturally, Scott, this is still excellent.

[ScottleeSV]

Cheers Gav

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08/08/10 - That pesky Steve

“Crystal Palace!” I ranted. “Crystal Palace! How? How did that happen? How?”

“Guess he got lucky” Brian replied, shrugging his shoulders.

We were in The Hatters Arms. Two days might have passed since Steve’s call but I still felt annoyed about it. In fact if anything it felt worse now than it had on Friday, almost as if the news had taken some time to properly sink in before it could bug me to the maximum.

“I won the Conference last season! Steve only came a rubbish mid-table! I also won the Live Bunny and reached the final of the FA Trophy. So how in the hell is Steve now at Crystal Palace whereas I’m still at Luton?”

“Do you actually want to leave Luton?”

“I don’t know" I answered, quietening my tone. "I hadn’t really thought about it. I suppose if a big club came calling I’d have to seriously think about it, wouldn’t I?”

“Hmmm” Brian mumbled, taking a thoughtful sip of his Deckchair on the moon. “I think you’re just going to have to put this one down to the fact he was actively looking and you weren’t. I bet if you’d gone for the Palace job you would have got it. No offence, mate, but if you really wanted the big dream move then you should have been keeping abreast of things. I know the Caroline thing has made it tough for people to concentrate on the job in hand around here recently but Palace haven’t had a manager for ages”.

He was right of course. Shaking my head, I was then momentarily distracted by movement from the door. A blonde and her boyfriend had just walked in. Quickly, before she could disappear around the side of the bar hidden from our corner, I studied the face to make sure it wasn’t anyone I knew. Then I returned my gaze to Brian.

“I don’t want to leave Luton” I said solemnly.

“You don’t? Then what’s the problem?”

“Well, I do and I don’t want to leave. I DO want to move to a big club. I do. At the same time though, I don’t think my job at Luton is done yet. I think I can get us up at least one more division with a bit of work. That’s why I haven’t been keeping tabs on the available jobs. It’s nothing to do with Caroline; I’m not using that as an excuse. It’s simply of case of me just not sub-consciously feeling ready to move on”.

Brian nodded but didn’t say anything else.

“So I guess I’m just – jealous of him – or whatever”.

“Understandable, I suppose”.

“Oh, and guess how much he’s on?! I asked him over text this morning. Guess how much”.

“I don’t know. Surprise me”.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand a year! A quarter of a million! That’s almost three times my salary. I’m not saying mine’s bad or anything. I’m just saying, that’s all”.

“Seriously a quarter of a mil?"

"Uh-huh".

"That’s quite a big salary for a manager in League One. Must be throwing some money at promotion are Palace”.

A silence passed as I took two sups of my beer. Tomorrow Never Dies by Sheryl Crow came on the jukebox at that moment. I almost had to glance around to check Darren wasn’t in.

“You know, Steve told me on the phone I should use the Conference league title to my advantage. Tell you the truth though; I’m not sure it would get me that far even if I did look for a new job”.

“Because you don’t think other people would think it’s a great achievement, winning a league title with the biggest club in the league?” Brian guessed.

“Correct. I think that’s the reason it never crossed my mind to try and move on after winning it. I think deep down I knew it wasn’t going to be enough to just win that one promotion. I think I knew I’d have to win two promotions, at least if I was going to get seriously noticed by much bigger clubs”.

“Our challenge is clear then” Brian said, holding his pint up level with his chin. “We get Luton up to League One and then we look to move you on”.

“Agreed”.

The two of us clinked glasses and downed the rest of our drinks. For Brian this was barely a fifth of the glass, but for me it was almost half a pint. I’d spent too much time bleating and not drinking, evidently.

[ScottleeSV]

09/08/10 - Nine wraiths

I was in my private office working on some scouting reports. Then came a knock on the door and Kindra Singh walked in.

She looked a bit like a schoolgirl today; grey pencil skirt, white shirt, and arms joined behind her back. She just needed the stripy tie and knee-high socks to make it complete. Her hair looked more flamboyant than usual, like maybe she’d put some effort into it. It was still long but was now wavier. Classier.

“Hi there” I opened up with. “And what can I do for you today, Kindra?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you”.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah, to thank you for being so nice to me in giving me the job”.

“Okay” I grinned. “What is it?”

“It’s behind my back”.

“Well? Let’s see it then”.

She smiled at me, a long, strangely seductive smile. Then she slowly brought her hands out. In one of them was a sub-machine gun. It was an Uzi nine millimetre.

“What the f__k?!” I cried, jumping out of my chair.

Rather than move out from behind my desk though, I backed further towards the wall. Kindra, for now, kept the weapon down by her side. Her smile was gone.

“Since going to prison my dad’s been just dying to get his revenge over you. Imagine how happy he was when I told him I’d managed to get on the inside, to get myself in a position where I could trap you like this and execute justice on his behalf”.

“But – he’s not in prison because of me! I had nothing to do with that! Yeah he fired at me that one time, but I didn’t report it. The police must have found his stash of guns some other way. I swear to God!”

I was telling the truth. I genuinely hadn’t reported Mr Singh. I hadn’t wanted the hassle of going down to the station, attending court etc.

“Well, just in case you’re lying, I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you anyway”.

“NO! JUST – hang on a minute”.

Panicking, I held my hand out in front of me as if somehow I’d be able to block the bullets.

Before I could say anything else however, something totally unexpected happened. Sally Cobb walked in. She was wearing the exact same clothes she’d been wearing for her interview. More crucially, she was also carrying an Uzi. Kindra didn’t seem surprised to see her.

“Sally?!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?”

“You should have given me the job, James. We could have had some amazing times after hours. You’ve blown that now”.

“But – “

Cue the appearance of a third gun carrier. This one was Chantelle! What the hell? In she walked confidently and took up a place on Sally’s left.

“I’ve waited a long time for this” she said, holding her Uzi up to show me what she had. “Revenge certainly is sweet”.

Then Charlotte walked in. She was still wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing at Manchester Picadilly. She was also carrying an Uzi.

“You broke my heart, James” she said coldly, moving to stand near Chantelle. “If you truly loved me, you would have come with me”.

“But I had to think about my career!” I protested.

“Oh yes, your career!” blurted out my old university girlfriend Sarah.

The redhead walked in with her Uzi and took a place in the line. With five people in it, that line was getting rather long now. Kindra at the opposite end had even had to shuffle up close to the window just so more people could squeeze in.

“You told me you had to break it off so you could take that law job back in Leeds” Sarah reminded me. “And yet here I arrive today and find that you’re not even practicing law!”

Before I could even think of replying, Cassie walked in (with an Uzi), and stood next to Sarah.

“You ageist bastard” she remarked.

“What?! Oh come on, Cassie, it never would have worked. You were too young for me”.

“Then why did you kiss me in the pub then, and play with my feelings”.

“I just – “

“You were the thirty year old adult. I was just the impressionable, inexperienced, vulnerable teenage girl. You should have known better”.

“But – “

Now Lyndsey walked in, that woman from Tenerife. Do I even need to tell you she had an Uzi in her hand?

“You used me for one thing, James. And then you stole my phone".

Briony was next to come in.

“You would always put football first, James. Never me”.

“Wow” said Chantelle, raising her eyebrows. “They just keep coming out of the woodwork, don’t they James?”

“Looks like me and Sally here were the lucky ones!” Kindra opined.

When the ninth and final girl walked in she closed the door behind her. This one was Jessica, my old flame from sixth form. She looked mad as hell.

“You told me you weren’t ready for a relationship”.

“That’s right! I wasn’t!”

“And yet strangely it took you six whole months of coming and going from my bedroom before you realised it”.

"Well you see errr - "

Ignoring me, the nine women began to check the magazines in their weapons. It looked like they were gearing up to fire.

“Look!” I cried. “By the letter of the law, I was never legally obliged to go out with any of you! And Kindra, I never dobbed in your dad! All of you, CUT ME A F__KING BREAK HERE! PLEASE!”

“Sorry, James” said Sarah. “You have to be stopped so no more women can get hurt”.

“We’re doing the world a favour” Jessica agreed.

“Sorry, James” said Cassie.

With steely cold glares, the Uzi’s slowly began to raise up so they were aimed at me. I made to protest again but nothing came out of my mouth. I was shivering.

At that moment, the latter stages to Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers began to play on Gav’s jukebox. Somehow it had found its way into the corner of my private office. How had that happened?

“Okay, girls” cried Chantelle. “Drill him!”

And so, in painful slow motion, violence and bloodshed erupted. With force I was thrown back against the wall in a hail of gunfire.

('Ohhhhh - my lovvve! - My darrrrling!)

The expressions on the faces of the shooters were gnarled and concentrated. Spent casings were soon flying all over the place. My blood was jetting out left, right, up, down, everywhere. I was like a bloody ragdoll, pinned two feet off the ground as bullets continued to pepper my body.

(‘And time goes byyyy! - So slowwwly!)

The pain was unbearable. But the shooters didn't stop firing. Just carried on and on and on.

----

“JESUS WEPT” I cried, waking up safe and sound in my bed.

Bambi startled and jumped onto the floor.

I was sweating like a pig. Christ almighty, what a friggin’ nightmare! Heart beating ridiculously fast, I went into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. Then I went into the kitchen and made a hot chocolate. Even though it was the middle of the night, I ended up sitting there in quiet thought for quite some time.

[ScottleeSV]

10/08/10 - Well someone's been busy

After last night’s nightmare, today was a time for action.

As soon as I got home I had a shower and put my best glad rags on. Then I tidied my hair, splashed on some aftershave, and prepared to leave the house. I was heading for Chantelle’s, the idea being to try and get back with her.

Sure it had been quite a while now since I broke it off, but going it alone just hasn’t worked for me. In hindsight, now that I’ve had some time to think about it (a very long time!) I’m thinking I probably made the wrong decision by ending things. Yeah okay, she made some stupidly wayward decisions whilst we were together. However, it’s never sat comfortably with me that those bad decisions were worthy of terminating what had otherwise been a thriving union.

And hey, it’s not as if I’ve been Mr Perfect all this time. Keeping that photocopy of her arse lying around wasn’t exactly top form. Neither was jumping the gun over the Zoo article – the one she didn’t actually write herself.

Yeah, all things considered, Chantelle deserved another chance.

--------

Parking in the same place I had last time, I took a quick look in my wing mirror to check my stubble looked okay. Then, after performing a quick smell of both armpits, I got out of the car.

‘Who knows? If things go well I might even end up staying over. Wouldn’t that be a turn up for the books?’

Once at the front door, I did my three rap knock and waited. Then, approximately twenty seconds later, it opened. Stood there in front of me was err a man.

'Oh what the f__k?!'

“Hi” I said instinctively

“Hi” said the man.

He was a tall guy. Maybe six-three. He had short dark hair and a jaw that reminded me of the actor Matt Dillon. He didn’t look very friendly, despite the hi.

“I just err – “

Good job Chantelle appeared at that moment because I honestly hadn’t a clue what I would have said otherwise. Judging by the rubber gloves on her hands, I presumed she’d just come from the kitchen (I hope she had anyway).

I couldn’t hear Luke around anywhere.

“What do you want?” Chantelle asked briskly, stepping to the side of the mystery man.

“I err – “

“What?”

“I just – well – I was just at home looking through some stuff, and err, I think I might still have a C.D here at your house from back when err – well, from way back. So err, I just came to – get it - if that's okay".

Both of them glanced at each other before looking straight back at me. The guy then crossed his arms like a nightclub bouncer trying to look imposing. He might as well have stuck his hand out in front of him and said – sorry, nobody gets into Chantelle’s house with trainers on tonight.

“What C.D?” Chantelle asked meanwhile. “I haven’t seen any of your C.D’s lying around recently. I didn’t know you’d even brought any round here”.

“Oh I did. This one time. Are you absolutely sure you haven’t seen it?”

“Well what’s it called?”

“What's it called? Well, it's called umm – “

My mind went blank.

“It’s err - it’s called - We’re Luton”.

Chantelle and the guy stared at me blankly.

“By the Luton Town Midnight Runners?” I offered.

Still they said nothing.

“Featuring Sir Paul McCartney?”

Still nothing.

In the awkward silence that followed, Chantelle sighed and took her hand off mystery man’s shoulder (she’d previously been leaning on him).

“I’ll go and have a quick look for it” she said, trundling off up the stairs.

That left me and mystery man alone again to see who could out-stare the other. Neither of us said anything whilst Chantelle was gone. She returned a couple of minutes later looking decidedly hot under the collar.

“I can’t find it” she said irritably. “It’s not here”.

“Oh. Well, I guess I’ll go back home and look a bit harder there then. Thanks for having a look though”.

“No problem” said the mystery man, unfolding his arms and retreating to push the door to.

“Cheerio then” I told them, doing a salute.

Neither said bye. They just closed the door on me. Turning around, I walked back up the garden path towards my car. Once I got there I kicked the front tyre as hard as I could and then beeped the door open.

[ScottleeSV]

11/08/10 - New beginnings

“Okay, here’s how it works” I said, addressing the entire office. “You all pick a team at random from League Two. That’s Luton’s League. Then, whoever’s team finishes highest in the league this season wins the pot of money. Simples”.

Slow nods around the room. Everyone just about seemed to get it.

I’d prepared a carrier bag containing twenty four folded up bits of paper. Naturally, on each one was written the name of a different football club from League Two.

I began at Brenda’s desk as it was the easiest to get to. Just as she was about to dip her hand in though, I quickly pulled ithe bag away again.

“Hold up! A pound please”.

She handed me her pound and then made a second reach for the bag. The others were all watching intently to see who she’d pull out.

“Torquay United” said Brenda, after unfolding her slip. “Are they any good?”

“Hmm, they’ll be rank outsiders probably”.

“No-hopers more like” said Darren.

“I never do well at things like this” Brenda sighed.

“Don’t give up yet. You never know”.

Pocketing the pound I moved down the aisle to Kindra’s desk. She was smiling politely and holding her pound up ready.

“Grays Athletic” she then announced a couple of moments later, looking up at me hopefully.

“Tell you what” I began, taking the slip from her and dropping it in the nearest waste paper bin. “Pick another one”.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Darren exclaimed. “What did you do that for?”

“Because it’s my game and I don’t want Grays in it. I’ve just decided. Kindra, you get to go again”.

“Okay – umm – Darlington”.

“Aw man, they’re one of the title favourites!” – Darren.

Ignoring him, I momentarily watched Kindra as she blu-tacked the slip of paper to the bottom of her keyboard. Presumably then she was going to keep that there for the next eight months. I’d have thought it would have been simpler just to memorize the world Darlington. How hard can it be?

Nicky next. I was leaving to Darren to last because of his constant backchat to the tournament referee.

“Hearford” Nicky declared.

“Hereford, Nicky. He-ra-fud”.

“He-ra-fud. Got it”.

Now for Darren. A lot of preparation went into Darren’s pick. First he rubbed his hands together. Then he blew into his palms. Then, finally, he twiddled his fingers over the top of the bag. He looked like Fagin about to pick someone’s pocket when he did that. Finally, he took the plunge.

“Chesterfield!” he cried. “Get in! They should be up there”.

“That’s not where Chester Zoo is, is it?” Kindra asked nervously, like she wasn’t sure.

Darren sniggered but didn’t say anything.

“Nah, Chester Zoo’s in Colchester” Nicky informed her. “I went there when I was a kid”.

Now Darren cackled manically.

“Oh Darren” Brenda said disapprovingly.

“I'd actually cut him a break, Brenda” I intervened, returning to my desk. “This illustrates just how much better men are than women when it comes to geography. And why are they better, may you ask? Well, I’ll tell you. They’re better at it because of football. People who follow football automatically end up better at geograpahy because their brains accumulate knowledge of where all the different teams are based".

“Well I’ve never followed football and I know where Chester Zoo is” Brenda retorted “I also know where Hereford, Torquay, and Grays are”.

“Yeah but you’re – “

“Old?” she pre-empted.

“I wasn’t going to say that. Anyway, I’m off out to the port-a-cabin. No doubt Cyril and Lee will be wanting to take part”.

“You’ll have to get in your car then” Darren said. “They’ve left”.

“They’ve what?”

“Left. Gone. Not working here anymore”.

A sudden tremor rippled across my insides. Cyril and Lee gone? If this had anything to do with my rejecting Cyril for the admin job then I was going to feel extremely guilty.

“Gone where?” I asked tentatively.

“Well, it’s a long story. Basically, Glynn got talking to Cyril and Lee and floated the idea of moving the business to a proper shop in the centre of town, the idea being to make it more professional. Cyril told him they wouldn’t be able to afford the lease on a proper shop but Glynn already had something up his sleeve for that.

“He introduced Cyril to a potential third partner, someone who fancied joining them who was willing to shove some money into the whole thing. I think Glynn might have persuaded the Luton board to put some in as well. Anything to get Cyril and Lee out of the car park! Anyway, they shipped out this morning to this new shop of theirs. They had a removal van down here at one point loading up all the gear”.

“You're kidding” I said.

"Nope".

Without further word I walked out and headed for the front door.

--------

Once I got to the port-a-cabin I found it was locked up. Moving around to the side where the window was, I peered in and saw that all the Luton merchandise was gone. In its place was Star Wars gear. Lots of it. The two lads must have decided to still keep the port-a-cabin but only use it for storage. Would the club be happy with that? Unlikely, in the long run, I mused.

Anyway, that wasn’t important. What was important was that Cyril and Lee were no longer here. I couldn’t believe it really. I almost felt sad as I trundled back inside. Talk about the end of an era.

‘Not to mention two pounds less in the sweepstake pot’.

[ScottleeSV]

13/08/10 - Time to get cracking

With only twenty four hours until the big kick off, it was time for my pre-season press conference. I could see all the usual dignitaries present as I walked in and took my seat. A few brief camera clicks later and we were ready to start. Brian wasn’t with me today. He had man flu.

“Yes, Andy” I said, pointing to the only person with his hand up.

There always seems to be an unwritten rule in my press conferences that Andy Branston gets to ask the first question. If the media are a pack of wild dogs out to snack on anything they can get their paws on, Branston is like the alpha male all the other dogs allow to take first bite of the carcass.

“James, Darlington at home tomorrow. This fixture must really bring back the memories”.

“Yes indeed it does. We had a very exciting three-all draw with Darlington a couple of seasons ago, as I’m sure you remember”.

“Indeed I do. Do you think though tomorrow might be difficult for you given the history of the whole bottle-kicking thing when it comes to Darlo?”

Knew he’d bring that up.

“Not at all. In fact it won’t even cross my mind once I wake up tomorrow. That bottle kicking incident was unfortunate, sure, but in my defence I was a very inexperienced manager at the time. I took my punishment on the chin and moved on. The end”.

Andy sat back down, paving the way for the beta dog to step up to the plate.

“Yes, Victoria”.

“Where do you expect Luton to finish this season?”

“Oh, well, I’d say mid-table would be a good achievement seeing as we’ve only just come up”.

A few murmurings sounded out around the room. Branston was back on his feet again.

“Mid-table? That’s not very ambitious. Even in this league Luton must surely be one of the biggest clubs?”

“Perhaps. But as I said before, we’ve only just come up. I know the long term goal at the club is to get much higher than League Two. However, that doesn’t mean we’re going to put ourselves under pressure to go too far too fast. It's like the cuts to the economy. You don't cut too far too fast or you risk a double dip recession. Believe me, the last thing Luton fans need is another dip into the Conference".

"I still don't see why the aim can't be to get promoted, even if you don't manage it".

“Okay, look it this way. I liken this squad to a lasagne, and you don’t just shove a good lasagne into the oven and turn the dial up, do you? No, first you need to slowly pre-heat the oven. THEN you put the lasagne in. And the work doesn’t stop there. The lasagne needs constant nurturing. You need to add dashes of spice and bits of Parmigiano cheese. You need to get the full flavour going. Andy, aiming too high too quickly in this league would be the equivalent of buying some kind of lasagne ready meal. And I don’t do ready meals. I do quality".

Shaking his head, Andy sat down again. I noticed out the corner of my eye a hand go up near Victoria at the back. It belonged to an attractive woman in her early thirties. She was tall with long brown hair and – “

‘Hang on! That’s Nadine Gouvell!’

“Nadine?”

“Hi James”.

“You’re not here with Live Bunny, I take it?”

“No. I’ve taken a job with The Daily Star now. I’m part of a small team covering League One and League Two clubs in the south west area. I’m writing match reports, attending press confer – “

“Hey” interrupted Bill Tulip. “Are you going to recite your entire job description or are you going to ask a question?”

“Sorry. James, I guess what I was going to ask was this; you’ve already had a taste of League Two life before. How do you think the experience of that relegation season two years ago will help you this time around, especially now that you’ve got a better squad at your disposal?”

That was a good question. Clearly I was going to have to point at Nadine as often as I could from now on.

“The experience of last time will help a lot. Let’s not kid ourselves here. This is a tough division! It’s like – it's like – “

“A jungle?” Andy prompted.

“Yeah I suppose that’s reasonably apt”.

“Or maybe even a zoo?”

Andy winked at me from behind his glasses.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today” I said hastily, downing my glass of water and standing up. “Thanks to everyone for attending”.

“You’re going already?!” Jonathan Panstil exclaimed. “We’ve only been going five minutes! I haven’t asked a question yet”.

“Or me!” – Brad Scowcroft.

“Sorry. People to see. Players to sign. I’ll stay longer next time, I promise. Cheerio”.

And with that I slipped out from behind the table and left the room.

[ScottleeSV]

14/08/10, League Match 1

Luton Town v Darlington

GK – Lars Stubhaug (debut)

DL – Richie Byrne (40 apps, 1 goal)

DR – Michael McKerr (debut)

DC – Claude Gnakpa (105 apps, 2 goals)

DC – Tony James (57 apps, 4 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (73 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (96 apps, 11 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (debut)

MR – Michael Taylor (38 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Louis Dodds (debut)

FC – Dean Bowditch (32 apps, 15 goals)

Not wanting to be seen to be resting on laurels I gave four debuts, some of them surprising. Picking McKerr at right back meant Gnakpa had to go in his less favoured position of centre half. Such a move probably wasn’t popular with natural centre halves Hogarth and Moore either.

Up front I went for Dodds to partner Bowditch, this despite the newcomer having not impressed during the friendlies. I guess I was going on the gut instinct Dodds would be the sort of guy to turn it on when it matters but who can’t be arsed when it doesn’t. It should also be said that Spencer and Cadamateri had hardly helped themselves by also being mediocre in the friendlies.

The atmosphere inside the ground was electric. The locals had clearly been looking forward to once again embracing league football at Kenilworth Road. Luton in orange and Darlington in white, the two teams ran out to Summer in the City by The Loving Spoonful.

Once the warm-ups and other formalities were complete, and the five year old mascots booted off the pitch, the ref blew the whistle to start the game.

The opposition were strong. With purpose they dictated most of the first ten minutes. They won a corner pretty much straight from the kick-off, Stubhaug rising high to collect. On 6 and 8 minutes they had shots, one from inside the area and one from out. The one from out went the closest. It rained in from Akinfenwa and bounced an inch wide with the keeper beaten.

We gradually got back into the game but only with about 40% possession at all times. We were also struggling to create openings. Then in 20^th minute McKerr proved you don’t necessarily need to open a team up in order to score past them.

The move took place almost entirely down the right. Gnakpa and McKerr exchanged some short passes in their own half before the latter played in Keane slightly more central. Keane took it forward for a while only to backtrack and glance around. Eventually he slid in McKerr, who was gaining good ground down the right. McKerr collected level with the penalty area and came inside. Two challenges swished helplessly at midair as the rampaging right back came further and further inside.

I didn’t want him to shoot because he was on his wrong foot. I couldn’t exactly call timeout and stop him though so I held my breath and waited to see what happened. What did happen was a low stinger that was probably going straight down the keeper’s throat until a deflection off Griffin. This flummoxed the keeper enough so that he flapped at the ball and sent it spinning diagonally upwards into the top corner of the net.

Get in! What a start to the season! Punching the air, I jumped around and roared my delight. What a great feeling! Shame Brian was still at home suffering from man flu or I'm sure he would have felt the same.

It got better in the 28^th minute. As a shell-shocked Darlington sank into a sloppy passage of play, Poole won a corner down the other side and Nicholls whipped it in. Gnakpa got up above not one but two Quakers and fired a header in under the crossbar. Two-nil! Oh yes! Get the hell in there!

‘We ARE top of the league say we are top of the league!’ sang the Hatters fans.

They were only singing it for six minutes though (not literally a full six minutes). Darlington pushed us back onto the edge of our own area and starting short passing us into submission, a bit like you see on the indoor Masters football sometimes. I can only applaud the net result of this – no pun intended. Akinfenwa swopped a one-two with Abbott and the gamble paid off. Akinfenwa was suddenly in on the keeper with very little space to work with.

As Stubhaug threw himself forwards to narrow the angle, the Darlington strike smashed one hard and low and into the net. Two-one.

“Calm them down!” I shouted to Nicholls, as the Darlington fans celebrated.

Calm it down was right. This match had suddenly become a chaotic free for all with very little in the way of organisation or discipline on either side.

My words achieved nothing. The final ten minutes of the half were just as frenetic as the previous fifteen. First Bowditch almost opened his account for the season. It was a skilled volley reminiscent of David Platt’s against Belgium in Italia 90. His version however had slightly less pace than Platt’s and the keeper was able to change direction and save it.

Then Darlington went even closer. Akinfenwa was again played in, this time by Foster from the centre circle. The striker had far more space to work with this time and I was convinced we were going to two-two. Akinfenwa though side-footed passed the advancing Stubhaug and also the post. Golden opportunity gone begging.

Despite the kamikaze nature of our play, the home fans had been thoroughly entertained during the first half and gave us good round of applause as we walked off

[Blackwolves]

You made me bored of my FM save.

That's the biggest praise I can give you

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, Blackwolves. Cheers for reading

----------------

“Not to state the bleeding obvious, but you can’t play the same way you did in the Conference out there, especially when defending a lead. Second half needs to be more controlled. Hell it needs to be borderline defensive! Forget about what the crowd tell you; play conservative. If you get the chance to break then great. For the most part though, keep it restrained. RESTRAINED!”

They did exactly that. Funnily enough, so did Darlington. It was as if the Quakers boss had been concerned we might pull ahead 3-1 or 4-1 very quickly if the end-to-end pattern continued, and had thus ordered his troops to do nothing in the first ten minutes after the restart but take stock. And so because of this, we reached at least the 54^th minute without anything else happening. That suited me fine.

Then a bad break. A very bad break. McKerr was trying to shield the ball out for a goal kick when he accidentally slipped and conceded a corner. When Ravenhill whipped it in for Darlo, Purdie got up highest to fire a header at goal. I say ‘fire’ but it didn’t look to my naked eye to be travelling all that fast. Stubhaug, however, could not hold onto it. Out it squirmed from his grasp and Abbott reacted quickest to blast home from a yard. Two-two.

The visiting fans went absolutely berserk this time. Ours just muttered and complained.

In this same fixture two years ago, a brace from Nicholls gave us the 2-0 advantage before Darlington hit back in the second half with goals from Abbott (2) and Kennedy. History was repeating itself. Even the same striker was involved!

Deciding swift action was necessary, I made two subs. Unlike in the friendlies where I was just throwing people on willy-nilly all the time, here I actually had to think hard about which changes to make. In the end I turned to Spencer and Hogarth, to replace Dodds and Gnakpa.

As this was going on Darlington were making hay. Before my subs could even get on the pitch, Davies ran towards the area like a non-league Lampard and sizzled a low one just wide. Moments after my subs had gone on, Akinfenwa volleyed over from ten yards after a cross from Paritt. We were getting battered all of a sudden!

But then, like a slow burning headache pill, the effects from the subs finally kicked in and we improved. In the 69^th minute Nicholls rifled in a much better sizzler than Davies’ effort. This one needed a full length sprawling save from Kazimierczak in the Darlington goal. I’m only writing that once, by the way. From now on he’s Darlington keeper all the way.

Four minutes later we almost scored from a fluke. Poole’s cross from the left was plum on the head of Spencer. It was a great chance to score but somehow the ball missed the striker’s forehead and hit his shoulder instead. This almost worked out well because Darlington keeper had anticipated the glancing header and committed to moving left. After hitting Spencer’s shoulder however, the ball went the other way. It just clipped the near post in slow motion and went behind.

It was Battle Royale now all the way to the end, both sets of fans trying to blow the ball first one way and then the other. Temperatures were rising too. Between 75 and 85 minutes, three players went in the book. Remarkably Keane wasn’t one of them.

It was also during this period that all the substitutions got used up for both sides. For us I brought Buckley on for the tiring Taylor (Buckley is currently very excited about the prospect of Death Count the sequel, incidentally).

On 87 minutes Darlington embarked on a stunning sixteen pass move that ended with Ravenhill slipping in Akinfenwa behind the defence. Just as he shot and scored, the linesman’s flag went up and celebrations were muted.

88 minutes and Nicholls made a rare error of judgment in Luton colours. In a four-on-three with Poole screaming for the ball down one side and Buckley likewise down the other, Nicholls went for goal himself thirty yards out. He didn’t catch it sweetly and Darlington keeper was able to comfortably palm it over from a central position. I doubt it had been going under the crossbar even before the intervention.

Final chance went to the visitors, the trio of Abbott, James, and Hogarth all going for the same ball after a Ravenhill centre. The ball seemed to come off the heads of all three players at once and spin towards the far corner of the goals. Thankfully it was travelling at a very slow speed and Stubhaug managed to not only save it but catch it.

At the final whistle there was respectful applause from the home faithful. The fans seemed to think we’d not made a bad fist of this; at least once the score had gone to 2-2 with so long left to play. That was my interpretation of reactions anyway.

--------

FINAL SCORE (att - 6012)

Luton Town 2 (Mckerr 20, Gnakpa 28)

Darlington 2 (Akinfenwa 34, Abbott 52)

--------

(other results)

Aldershot 3-2 Wycombe

Barnet 0-1 Lincoln

Cheltenham 0-1 Walsall

Chesterfield 0-0 Yeovil

Exeter 1-0 Bournemouth

Grays 3-1 Hereford

Grimsby 3-0 Brentford

Rochdale 0-1 Notts County

Rotherham 1-0 Oldham

Shrewsbury 3-0 Chester

Toquay 3-1 Accrington

[ScottleeSV]

15/08/10 - I've had worse nights

It was just past 7pm Sunday evening when the doorbell rang. Chantelle was the one doing the ringing. No doubt about it. She’s the only person I know who rings the doorbell like she’s being chased by Michael Myers.

Straightening my hair a little bit, I muted the television and headed down to see what she wanted.

“Hi” I said, opening up.

“Can I come in?”

“I suppose”.

No further explanation forthcoming, she bustled past me up the stairs. I had to go some just to keep up. Once we were back in the flat, Chantelle headed straight for the living room and sat on the edge of the couch. I did likewise. Bambi remained on the living room rug, happily chewing a toy.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I just wanted to know why you came around the other night”.

“You mean when I came for the C.D?”

“Yeah, that night. That was bollocks about the C.D though. The one you said was the same one I almost took by the accident the last time I was here. So come on, out with it. Why were you there?”

I looked away, hesitating. I didn’t really want to tell her the real reason, not if she was with somebody new.

“Who was that guy?” I asked, buying myself some time.

“My new boyfriend. Marcus”.

“Bit old for you isn’t he?”

“He’s a year younger than you”.

“Oh”.

During the ensuing pause, I found myself wondering how I smelled. I hadn’t sprayed since this morning. I hadn’t been expecting company. Chantelle meanwhile was wearing – what was it she was wearing?

‘Is that that really strong perfume of hers that I detect? It is! Well what about that?!'

“I only met him a few weeks ago, before you ask”.

“Right”.

“He’s a door to door salesman. He sells windows”.

“Yeah I thought he had that salesman kind of charm to him”.

She didn’t seem to detect my sarcasm, instead switching her focus to something across the room.

“So are you gonna tell me why you came around or not?” she persisted.

“Well, what happened is this; I won these Chelsea tickets in a raffle, and I thought I’d come round and see if Luke wanted them. Oh, but once I got there and saw – Marcus – I thought that if he was your new boyfriend he might deem it inappropriate for me to be calling around giving Luke stuff? So that’s when I made up something different on the spot”.

That was actually quite a well crafted lie, funnily enough. The only bit that let it down was the raffle part. Seriously, when and where would I ever enter a raffle? And when was the last time you entered a raffle and the first prize was two tickets to see a Premiership team based a hundred miles away? Apart from those little details - great lie!

“What a crap lie” Chantelle declared, expression changing to one of disgust. “If you really were bringing football tickets round, how come you dressed up before you came? And wore aftershave? And did your hair all perfect?”

“Well okay, Jessica Fletcher, if you want to play that game then so will I! If you really came around here just to ask me why I went around to yours, how come you splashed the perfume on? And put on that tight white top you know is my absolute favourite that you wear around the house? And as for the leather boots, seriously, talk about overkill when all you’re doing is nipping around someone’s house for ten minutes!”

The expected return volley didn’t come. Instead Chantelle covered her mouth to suppress a smile. She wasn’t fooling me though. I saw it. I reckoned all I also saw the true reason for this visit.

Taking a gamble, I whipped my right arm around the back of her hair and pulled her head into mine. For all of one second I was kissing completely paralyzed (and closed) lips. Then, just as I pulled away to see what her facial expression held, she grabbed me and pulled me back into it. This time, her lips were fully open.

From Bambi’s perspective, what followed next was nothing short of complete chaos, as various bits of clothing and footwear rained down all around her. She practically found herself scampering around like a world war one soldier trying to avoid a sequence of mortar blasts.

A minute or so later however and we left her to it, abandoning the living room for the bedroom.

Good times.

[mcglede]

Good work by young James. Pity the supporters didn't do a conga line for that effort. Have been waiting for the conga and chanting to be recorded:

"Us Luton fans we conga, the mighty Martin conga"

BTW, My FM11 save sees Luton Town top of League One after fifteen games of the 2013-14 season. Only Keith Keane (309 league appearances for Luton) remains from season one.

[ScottleeSV]

Sheesh, you can't get rid of the bastard too

----------------

15/08/10 - C.J in the ascendancy

After the deed was over, I slipped into a temporary stupor of total and utter contentment. That is to say I fell asleep. I only woke up some time later when Chantelle clambered awkwardly over the top of me to get out of bed. It seemed she'd decided to get dressed again.

“How long was I out?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“Dunno. About twenty minutes”.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I didn’t get a babysitter to come here. Marcus is looking after him. I only said I’d be half an hour”.

“You actually said you were coming here?”

“No. I said I was going to a mate’s”.

Now fully awake, I got out of bed and wrapped my arms around her as she fiddled with her bra.

“I don’t mind admitting, I suppose, that this means I want to get back with you”.

“Does it? That’s nice”.

“So what do you say? Are we back on? Are you going to get rid of that window guy?”

Without even waiting for the answer I began kissing her neck. Chantelle meanwhile, facing away from me, continued to focus attentions only on the bra. She was going to have to go back into the living room though if she wanted the rest of her clothes.

“I’m not sure about that” she eventually replied, squirming clear of me.

“Sorry? Come again?”

Myself still naked, I followed her out of the room.

“Well, don’t get me wrong” she began, calling back over her shoulder. “I would like to be with you but I’m not sure I can trust you. You really hurt me when you ended things before. I know you had your knickers in a twist over that whole Eugene thing but it was still a bulls__t reason to dump someone, in my opinion. What if I went back out with you again and then you found some other lame reason to call it off? I couldn’t go through with that again. Luke couldn’t either”.

By the time she was done saying all that she only had her boots left to go. Biting my lip, I down sat next to her on the couch.

I don’t know whether it was the fact I’d just had great sex or what, but before I knew it I was grovelling. I mean I literally started spouting all that nancy-pamby s__t men like to think they’ll never be soft enough to ever say, stuff like But I still love you, and no girl since you has even compared, and I’ve really learnt some harsh lessons over this and can absolutely promise you I will never dump you for a stupid reason ever again.

I was just starting to also talk about the fact I used to have committment issues but have now conquered them, when Chantelle got up and headed for the door. She was fully ready to leave now.

Panicking slightly, I overtook her in the corridor and blocked her route to the exit.

“Well?” I queried. “After all that you’re not even going to say anything?”

Chantelle sighed. Adjusted the handbag strap on her shoulder. Looked at the ceiling. Looked at me.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. And you seem to forget I’ve got a new boyfriend now. I’ve moved on”.

“Oh come on! You’ve been with him, what, two weeks? You were with me eight months! If you still feel anything for me, which you obviously do or you wouldn’t have just let yourself do what we just did, you’ll put me and you ahead of you and him”.

An awkward sentance that one. Chantelle took her time deciphering it.

“I really don't know” she said. “I’ll have a think about it tonight and let you know tomorrow”.

“Let me know?”

“Yeah. Let you know if I want to get back with you or not”.

“Right”.

I couldn’t believe this. What a crap ending to a great hour!

“Do you mind?” she then asked, referring to the fact I was still blocking her way.

“Okay, well let me know tomorrow then”.

I moved to kiss her goodbye on the cheek but Chantelle dodged it.

Once she was gone I went into the kitchen and made myself a coffee. Then I went back to the living room and turned the TV volume back up. Bambi had made herself comfy on the settee whilst I was out the room.

It wasn't long before I noticed out the corner of my eye her head was turned and she was looking straight at me.

“Yeah okay” I sighed, getting back up again. “I’ll go and put some clothes on”.

[mcglede]

Ha! Blame the Luton manager - I'm at Melbourne Victory in the A-League. Was going to do a story about it, stopping every two years to write it but just got so into the game I'm in December 2013. How do you stop playing when your striker and centre back are having a competition to see who can score the most goals for the season, your left back is a 17yo juvenile delinquent, your marquee goalkeeper is nicknamed 'Oh my' (for Oh my...he fumbles - an old line from The Simpsons), the back-up right back actually works at the same place you do in real life, the youth team centre midfielder has 20 caps for the Faroe Islands and you're the only full time manager who until last year was also a current international footballer? Oh, and Klaus Toppmoller hates my guts as well, especially after threatening me in a press conference, my veteran back-up centre back with two goals in a 100+ game career somehow bobs up with a hat-trick one day and the Salzburg manager is a season ticket holder and flies out to see all our games.

Guess it wouldn't make for much of a story come to think of it.

[salkster2102]

That just sounds like some weird soap opera

[ScottleeSV]

Sounds good to me, Mcglede. Write it up!

----------------

17/08/10 - Chinwag with Elton

Tonight was our League Cup tie away to Watford.

When we got there, a Watford spokesman asked me I fancied popping up to the boardroom bar to see Elton John. Apparently he remembered me from two years ago! How cool is that?

‘Unless he fancies me, in which case, not cool’.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I headed up the stairs and tried to remember which way I was going. Finding the bar in question wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Vicarage Road is a bit more structurally complex than Kenilworth Road. Once I had found the bar, I straightened my tie and put on my best confident walk for the final few yards leading up to the door.

It was during this stretch I began to hear finger-clicking from inside the room. It didn’t sound like just one hand doing the clicking either; it sounded like three or four. Accompanying the clicking was light singing.

(‘Goodbyeeee England’s rose – may you ever grow in our hearts – you were the grace that placed itself – where lives were torn apart’)

Thinking it might be deemed rude if I just barged in and interrupted this, I momentarily hung still.

(‘You called out to your country – and you whispered to those in pain – now you belong in heaven – and the stars spell out your name’)

Sensing a minuscule pause in proceedings before the action switched to the chorus, I now opened the door and stepped inside.

The finger-clicking abruptly stopped. There were four of them who’d been doing it; Elton plus three other middle-aged guys who looked a bit like folk singers dressed in tatty suits. They all had beards and funny hats too.

“James Martin?” enquired Elton, like he didn’t know.

“Yep. Long time no see, eh?”

“Indeed. Guys, do you mind?”

With a wave of his hand Elton gestured for the other three to go wait by the bar, therefore allowing me room to sit down. One casual minute of chitchat later and I had a drink too, one of the bearded guys bringing a pint of bitter over.

Me and Elton then proceeded to shoot the breeze over everything from the unwanted birth of Luton Lightning to the glory of Watford’s run to the 1984 cup final. More crucially however, it was during this time I received the contact from Chantelle I’d been waiting for all day. It came via text message. I waited until Elton needed the John (ha!) and then got my phone out to read it.

Hiya. I do want to b with u again if u still want 2. I need some time 2 dump Marcus tho so maybe I won’t come round again until later in the week? Sorry bout last nite but didn’t want to give in so easy after how u treated me. Enjoyed seeing u. Love u xx

Get in there!

When Elton returned we just about had time for one more topic of conversation.

“So how do you feel about the forthcoming season in League Two, James?”

“Well, I’m a bit nervous about it really. It feels impossible to follow up what we achieved last season”.

“Ah I wouldn’t worry. When I released my first album, Empty Sky, in 1969, I had exactly the same fears when it came to my follow-up. In the end I just forced myself to stop thinking about it. I even called the album Elton John just to emphasize the fact I wasn’t even trying to beat the original”.

“Did it do well?”

“Yeah it did very well. More than matched up to my sales expectations. My gambit of taking the pressure off myself worked a treat. Maybe you should adopt a similar frame of mind?”

“You know what? I think I will. Thanks”.

“No problem”.

Only half an hour until kick off now. Time to go back down. Brian was still absent so once again I would be taking the team by myself.

Downing the rest of my drink, I excused myself from Elton’s company and headed for the door. Just as I reached it, I noticed in my peripheral vision Elton’s buddies head back to the table. Then, no sooner was I outside, the sound of finger clicking and singing started up again.

(‘And it seems to me – you lived your life – like a candle in the wind!’)

[ThePoshTom]

Very good read. Congratulations on writing this for over 2 years now aswell:)

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, Poshtom. I appreciate the goodwill

----------------

17/08/10, League Cup Round 1

Watford v Luton Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (1 app, 0 goals)

DL – Richie Byrne (41 apps, 1 goal)

DR – Michael McKerr (1 app, 1 goals)

DC – Claude Gnakpa (106 apps, 3 goals)

DC – Tony James (58 apps, 4 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (74 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (97 apps, 11 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (1 app, 0 goals)

MR – Michael Taylor (39 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Dean Bowditch (33 apps, 15 goals)

FC – Louis Dodds (1 app 0 goals)

For once in my life I didn’t tinker, opting for exactly the same team that played reasonably well against Darlington. Not that I was expecting a win. Watford are in The Championship. We on the other hand are still unproven even at League Two level. Factor in the Hornets’ home advantage and the odds on a Luton win were rather long.

Ironically enough the two sides me at exactly the same stage on exactly the same ground at the beginning of the 2008/2009 season, Watford winning 2-1 courtesy of goals from Rasiak and Eustace. The long departed Chris Martin scored a consolation for us but in truth we got absolutely played off the pitch that night and were lucky to only lose by one.

Just as we did two years ago, we had a slow start tonight as well. Max Gradel danced past McKerr like he wasn’t there and whipped in a low cross. The ball caught the heel of the backtracking Tony James and popped out to Jobi McAnuff. The player then had the simple task of slotting low into the corner for one-nil.

As the Watford fans went ape, the speakers began to play the chorus to Are You Ready for Love? The Luton fans meanwhile, having travelled in heavy numbers for this local derby, stood deflated, their hopes of a shock result probably already dashed (in their eyes).

Collectively we seemed to drop deeper after the goal and play more short passes. I couldn’t argue with that approach. No sense bombing forward in panic when there were still eighty minutes to play. That’s a sure-fire way of losing 10-0 if ever there was one

A rather depressing moment occurred in the 18^th minute though. Stubhaug got booked for taking too long over a goal kick.

“Oh come on ref!” I shouted. “We’re getting beat! Why the hell would he be time wasting?”

I’ve got to admit, our passing was very good tonight. We were keeping the ball well. The only trouble was we weren’t creating anything in the final third. Watford on the other hand were creating half chances on a regular basis. Priskin half-volleyed over the top in the 26^th minute and Gradel side-footed one half a yard wide from the edge of the box in the 28^th.

Our first effort came in the 29^th, rounding off a period of high octane excitement at both ends. Kevin Nicholls accepted a backwards pass from Bowditch and tried to chip the keeper from range. It was an expertly judged attempt and was dipping just below the bar but for the tip over from Loach. The resulting corner was sadly wasted.

Then an even better chance. Michael Taylor dribbled it down the right and ended up benefitting from an extremely lucky ricochet off Sadler. He swung a low ball into the middle which zeroed in on Dodds as if laser-guided. Dodds was six yards out and couldn’t miss. He didn’t miss. But Loach got a leg in the way and the ball deflected fifty yards up in the air. And then away.

‘Arrrgh!’

I sensed that might be as good a chance as we were going to get in this first half and I was proven right. Watford reacted to being put under pressure by applying their own as half time approached. The literally buzzed forward as if we’d just stuck our mitts in their hive and scooped up a huge handful of the very best honey, moments before wiping it all over ourselves and running clumsily away.

First Priskin connected with a clever reverse volley that had Stubhaug diving full length to keep out. Then Wilkinson headed against the crossbar from a corner and ballooned the rebound over with his knee. Then Cohen curled a free kick inches wide of the post (keeper didn’t move). Talk about riding our luck!

We did make it to the break only one down though. Not a bad effort all things considered.

[ScottleeSV]

The tactic I put forward to the boys at half time was to keep it defensive until the 80^th minute and then swing from the hips. Nods of approval from around the room. There was an expecially big nod from Dodds, clearly embarrassed at missing that chance.

The two teams jogged out for the second half to Circle of Life by err Elton John.

Watford began this period as they finished the first – on the attack. Priskin soon shrugged off challenges from James and Gnakpa to find himself in on Stubhaug. The side-foot was too casual however and curled just past the post.

We weren’t so lucky two minutes later. Gradel had been a menace all game up to this point, and it was he who struck a potentially devastating blow by falling over Gnakpa’s outstretched leg on the left side of the area. Penalty kick! Even worse, the referee ran straight to Claude and flashed him his second yellow of the game. He was off.

“Well that’s f__king well it!” I muttered to myself.

As four or five Luton players circled the referee to complain, my phone started vibrating in my pocket.

‘Who the hell is this? People know never to ring me during a match!’

It was Chantelle.

Figuring I’d better answer just in case it was some kind of emergency, I shuffled my way down the tunnel and lifted the receiver to my ear.

“Hi. Is something wrong?”

“No. I just thought I’d give you a call. I was thinking about you”.

“Cool, but can I call you back in a bit? I’m in the middle of a match right now”.

“I know. I looked online for the fixtures”.

Come again?

“Well if you knew I was at a match why did you choose now to phone me?”

“I wanted to see what your reaction would be. I wanted to see how serious you were when you said you were going to put me before football from now on”.

“You can’t be serio – “

A huge roar cut me off.

(‘Are you ready?! Are you ready for lovvvvve?! Yes I am! Oh yeah! - )

The music from the speakers was loud outside but it was even louder here in the tunnel area. I had to wait until it was finished before continuing

“What was all that noise about?” Chantelle asked, beating me to the drop ball.

“That’s the celebration music. We’ve just scored”.

“Ah good. My call isn’t ruining your game then”.

“No” I said through gritted teeth. “Not at all. So anyway, now I’ve proved just how much you mean to me by answering the phone when I could have ignored it, perhaps we can wrap it up now and I’ll give you another call later on?"

“Not yet. One minute isn’t long enough. I decided it was going be twenty minutes before I called and twenty minutes I’m going to stick to. I think that's fair. I just want a gesture, that's all".

“Chantelle, I am in the middle of a local derby against Watford in the League Cup! Have you got any idea just how imp – “

Suddenly I got cut off by another roar.

(‘Are you ready?! Are you ready for lovvvvvvve? Yes I am! Oh yeah! - )

“Another one?!” I shouted, spinning around and peering back up the tunnel.

Sure enough, five closely gathered yellow shirts appeared in my vision on the left and disappeared almost as quickly to the right.

“Have you scored again?”

“No. And come on, Chantelle, what are we going to talk about for an entire twenty minutes?”

“Loads of things – when we’re next going to see each other for starters! I also wanted to talk you about an idea I had for a relationship armistice”.

“A what?”

“An armistice. I got the idea from this girl on Facebook. What you do is, you and a partner agree that from the moment you shake hands that neither person is ever allowed to use anything in a future argument that happened before the handshake. Given all the problems me and you have had about past stuff, I thought it would be a good idea".

‘Okay whatever! Flipping fine!’

But I didn’t say that out loud. No point spoiling things with her when I’d worked so hard to patch things up. Instead I bit my tongue and played along with the whole twenty minute convo.

At the end we agreed to next see each other on Saturday night. My idea. I wanted to give her a decent amount of time to do what needs to be done with Marcus.

It was 4-0 to Watford by the time I got back to the touchline. Knowing the game was over as a contest, I threw three subs on to rest some key legs for Saturday. Watford responded with changes of their own and prompted added a fifth through Hoskins.

(‘Are you ready?! Are you ready for lovvvvvve?! Yes I am! Oh yeah!)

“I swear to God!” I said to the linesman. “If they play that f__king song one more time – “

--------

FULL TIME (att - 10269)

Watford 5 (McAnuff 7, Cohen 53pen, 55, Gradel 66, Hoskins 79)

Luton Town 0 (Gnakpa s/o 52)

--------

[ScottleeSV]

11/10/03 - Outcast

My legs were shaking, not out of fear but rather a deep seeded belief that shaking would keep me fresh. The water bottle in my hand was empty. Tossing it aside, I checked the slightly loose feeling in my right foot and found my lace needed doing up. How long had that been like that? And was Brass really still talking? Why had I not been listening to a single word? God I hated half times.

“I know we were poor in the first half, but I’ve got every confidence in you lads to turn this around” he began his final flourish with. “Now go out there and give that bloody mob what they want i.e. A WIN!”

The players roared as we all got to our feet. Then we trickled out the door and onto the pitch. We were the first ones back out. Cambridge, despite being a goal up, had clearly decided not to rush themselves.

To pass the time I did some arm stretches and jogged around a little bit. Crazy In Love by Beyonce was playing on the tannoy. Where was that song not playing at the moment? The Shay faithful were chatting and tottering around with their programmes and plastic coffee cups. Same as always.

I could see the quartet of Caplan, Bloomer, Grant, and Crusher by the centre circle. Judging by the way Caplan (the short arse I’d fallen out with at my very first training session), was gesturing here, there, and everywhere with his hands; I guessed they were having in-depth discussion about tactics.

“Hey” I said, running over to them. “What’s the jig?”

“The what?”

“The jig. The deal. The story. What’s going on? Anything I should know?”

“F__k off, lawyer boy. You just keep to the wing. That’s all you need to know”.

It was said not in jest but in hatred. Seriously. Not that I was bothered. I’d long past caring about this club. Any effort I made these days was token.

Shrugging my shoulders, I smiled playfully and performed zigzag sprints over to my starting position on the left. The opposition players, together with the officials, were now starting to come back out. We would soon be ready to start.

Blood, guts, and thunder was the name of the game for the next twenty minutes. Whatever Caplan’s secret tactic had been, it seemed to involve a lot of diving into tackles and humping the ball aimlessly up the pitch. The crowd got restless eventually and who could blame them? I know I wouldn’t want to pay to watch this s__t.

I hadn’t been passed to much today but finally I received one in the 65^th minute from Bloomer. The moment I controlled it, Caplan began screaming for the ball ten yards infield.

“Give it to Caplan!” Brass backed him up from the dugout.

‘Screw Caplan’ I thought, as the first Cambridge intervener came eagerly towards me.

Swivelling with quick feet, I dropped my shoulder and burst past him. Surprised by this, the would-be tackler was left stranded and looking like a fool.

The crowd unanimously applauded, finally having had something to get excited about.

More blue shirts than ever were screaming for the ball now but I wasn’t listening. Staying close to the touchline, I jinked past a second man and then a third. The fans were on their feet, cheering me on to greater things. Players from both sides meanwhile were streaming towards the penalty area in anticipation of a cross.

But I wasn’t finished yet. Feigning to whip one in, I cut inside and left a fourth man for dead. Then a fifth, as I twisted back the other way towards the by-line. Out the corner of my eye I saw striker Harrison ghosting in unmarked at the back post. Everybody else looked marked. But not Harrison. Harrison was free.

Digging my toe under the ball I scooped it up in the air and over the oncoming lunges from interveners six and seven. It also went over the keeper, over him and plum onto the head of my intended recipient, who seriously couldn’t miss. One-one.

Knowing instantly I’d just made the best assist of my entire life, I turned to The South Stand and held my arms aloft. Any moment now I would surely be swamped by overjoyed team-mates. Best to enjoy my big moment as much as I could whilst it was still just mine.

Except - except the team mates never came. As I turned around to jog back to the centre circle, I saw them all mobbing Harrison instead over by the far post. If that wasn’t bad enough, Caplan had some choice words for me as I re-took my place for the resumption.

“Pass it next time! You almost f__ked that up you t_ss_r!”

T_sser, eh?

Oh well. As the old saying goes – sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

[ScottleeSV]

19/08/10 - One last hurrah?

Bambi eyed me curiously.

That’s because I was lying face up on the living room rug, legs arched upwards and resting on the couch. Against the background chatter coming from Hollyoaks, I raised my right leg high up as far as it would stretch. Then I did the same with the left leg. Then the right again. Then the left.

This was about the tenth different exercise I’d performed in the past twenty minutes. All were designed to provoke some pain in my bad leg, or at least some noticeable difference in feeling. So far I hadn’t felt any difference at all. I’d almost had to stop and remind myself at one point which was the bad one.

I shouldn’t have been too surprised really. Since judgment day at The Shay I’ve still remained able to walk and run. I’ve still been able to walk around without limping. I’ve never suffered from cramps or random jolts of agony. My sex life has never suffered. In fact, now that I think about it, my consultant at the time only advised me never to play again. He didn’t tell me not to. Of course, like I even wanted to play again after that Halifax experience!

Some small part of me (and yet still big enough to be important) never quite felt 100% comfortable as a player. In my head I was always analysing the tactics side and feeling frustrated I wasn’t the one making the decisions. I reckon I might have made a good captain but for the fact I never played past twenty five.

But things were different now. Never mind captaincy; I was the manager now. ME. These days I made the decisions. The only difference was that I wasn’t playing. But what if I was playing? What would that be like? Would it be fun? Would it suit me down to a tee, managing and playing at the same time?

“I don’t know. What do you think, La Bamba?”

I waited until she wagged her tail then I got up. Then I headed to the kitchen to get some juice.

It was the office five a side that had first laid the seed inside my head. The fact I’d been able to rough it with the rest of the staff had really taken me by surprise. It had made me re-evaluate my short term career and also the exact condition of my leg, which wasn’t really all that bad.

The seed that had blossomed into living room exercises had been an actual game of football. At the park. I’d been walking Bambi there earlier on and noted a group of lads playing football. There had been four of them, all between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. They had been using two thick oak trees for goal posts.

Spontaneously I’d ask if I could join in. They said I could so I tied Bambi to a nearby bench and jogged over. Within seconds I was on the ball showcasing my skills. Then I was taking them on, dribbling, twisting, shielding, shoulder barging, and of course, shooting. It all passed without any problems. I was by far the most accomplished player there. I’d even received a nice compliment at one point.

“Mate, you should play for Luton”.

Indeed. That would be nice.

But it would be wrong to get carried away. Certain realities still have to be faced. I’m thirty one years old now – almost thirty two. I haven’t played full time football in six years. The game has changed a lot in that time. I’ve seen it with my own eyes even if I haven’t experienced it. I also never once played above Conference level. Luton are in League Two.

And yet, I’ve kept my body in good shape. I regularly run and warm up with the lads. I also go to the gym sometimes. How much extra work would I need to get to the required level? Probably not much. Before the injury, fitness was always something that came easily. If I had an Achilles heel it was that I was maybe not always 100% committed on a mental level.

Not much danger of struggling for motivation these days. If anything I was too motivated.

Juice in hand, I crossed to the home phone and dialled directory enquiries. Time to book in to see a specialist, just to play it safe.

‘And who knows, maybe he’ll make me kill this madness before it even begins?’

[ScottleeSV]

20/08/10 - Roughing it

Despite the fact it was past 11pm, my mobile phone was ringing by the side of the bed.

‘What the – ‘

Had to be Chantelle. Had to be. Only a girlfriend would ring this late. Well okay, she’s won’t technically be my girlfriend until Saturday evening, but you know what I mean.

It wasn’t her though. It was Nicky.

“Hiya!”

“Nicky. Hi”.

I flicked the bedside light on and rubbed my eyes.

“Sorry to ring so late”.

“Don’t worry about it. What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you something”.

“Ask away”.

“Well, it’s kind of to do with Caroline so I just want to check first that it’s not going to upset you or anything”.

“Nicky, I’m over it. I think we’re all just about over it now - unless you’re going to tell me different. Whatever you want to talk about which concerns Caroline it’s fine by me. Seriously”.

“Cool”.

A pause ensured as Nicky cleared her throat at the other end. Bambi meanwhile, having being jolted awake by the sudden movement of my legs, left the bed and wandered across the room to slurp some water.

“Do you remember the Goth festival me and Caroline were going to go to?”

“Of course”.

“Well, it’s next weekend, believe it or not. Anyway, I was talking to Caroline’s old housemate Wendy and apparently she and Rick are still going. They want to make the whole a weekend a kind of celebration of Caroline, if you get me. So I’ve decided to still go too. I asked Darren and he agreed it’s a good idea, so he’s also coming. And now, I guess, I’m going to ask you if you also want to come. What do you think? Do you want to come?"

“Me? Go to a festival?”

“I know it’s not really your thing. But then again, it’s not mine either. Or Darren’s. Only Wendy and Rick are actually into all that stuff, which is good, because they can kind of be our guides once we get there”.

Lying back down under the covers, I smiled to myself and put one hand over my eyes. I was smiling because I knew there was only one possible answer I could give to this proposition, and it meant (probably) getting caked in mud. Seriously, how could I let Darren and Nicky go off on a Caroline tribute and not join them? It would be unthinkable. Nicky could have suggested jumping into a tub of cow dung for the tribute and I still would have felt compelled to say yes.

But it wasn’t a cow dung jump; it was a music festival. So long as I remembered to take wellies and bog paper, how bad could it be?

“Yeah of course I’ll come”.

“Brilliant!"

“What day are you planning on going though? I’ve got an away match that Saturday up in Nottingham”.

“Oh. Well that’s okay because we’re not going until Saturday evening anyway. The festival is on from Friday to Monday but we’re only going for one night. Then we’re coming back Sunday afternoon”.

“So we’re camping overnight night then? I hope you’ve got spare camping gear because I don't keep anything like that”.

“Neither have I. But don’t worry. Wendy and Rick have got a tent each, and Darren’s got one as well. Three tents will do for five of us”.

'Hmmm'.

Presumably Wendy would be bunking in with Nicky, Darren with Rick, and yours truly would be relegated to a tent all of his own. Or would Darren want to be the odd man out, just in case he pulled? I didn’t really care either way, to be honest.

The overall conception of going camping with Nicky made me wonder what she usually wore to bed. Or maybe it was just the fact I was talking to her IN bed right now? Either way, I wondered it. Did she go naked? Just in her underwear? Underwear plus t-shirt? Or maybe a cute pair of matching pink pyjamas? Sadly I didn’t think it would appropriate to actually ask.

‘Hey Nicky, just out of curiosity, what are you wearing right now?’

Nah. I’d have to let that one slide unsolved.

“Brenda didn’t want to come” she then informed me, pulling my mind out of the gutter.

“You actually asked her!?” I exclaimed, laughing.

“Well, yeah”.

“What about Kindra?”

“Oh, that was something else I wanted to ask you about. I did ask her if she wanted to come to the festival, by the way, but she didn’t want to. Anyway, the other night after work I – “

Nicky broke off, seemingly unsure as to how to continue.

“I went for a drink at The Hatters Arms with her”.

“Is that bad?” I asked, not sure where the problem lay.

“Well, afterwards I felt kind of weird. Guilty, actually. I felt guilty. Does that make sense?”

“Oh I see”.

I knew what she was getting at. Not that it was anything she should have been worrying about.

“I wouldn’t worry about it” I continued after a pause. “Believe me; Caroline would not mind you becoming good friends with her. On the contrary, I think she’d probably want to give you a slap if she thought you were deliberately trying to avoid being friends with Kindra”.

“Yeah that’s what I thought. I suppose I just wanted to hear it from someone else though”.

“I’m glad you’ve taken her out and made a big effort with her. It’s good”.

“Yeah”.

After that we went back to talking about the Goth festival i.e. what bands are on (we couldn’t name any, mind), what food we’re going to take, what beer, what home comforts etc. It was well past midnight by the time I hung the phone up.

It was only after doing so it occurred to me I might like to invite Chantelle. Then I definitely wouldn’t be the odd person out at any point.

‘Nah, she’d have an absolute mental breakdown roughing it in a muddy field. No point even asking’.

So that was settled then. No Chantelle.

[ScottleeSV]

21/08/10, League Match 2

Luton Town v Barnet

GK – Lars Stubhaug (2 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Richie Byrne (42 apps, 1 goal)

DR – Michael McKerr (2 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Dorian Moore (debut)

DC – Tony James (59 apps, 4 goals)

DMC – Derek Niven (37 apps, 3 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (98 apps, 11 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (2 apps, 0 goals)

MR – Michael Taylor (40 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (28 apps, 11 goals)

FC – Dean Bowditch (34 apps, 15 goals)

I could have done with this fixture the following Saturday. That way, getting to the Goth Festival would be easy. As it is I’m going to have to shoot down the motorway from Notts County with not much time to spare. It’s a bit bizarre anyway that we’re starting our league campaign with two home games in a row. The mind boggles.

We endured mixed fortunes against The Bees two years ago; following up a 2-0 home win at Kenilworth Road with an embarrassing 0-4 loss at Underhill on the final day wasn't fun.

After the slightly ragged performances against Darlington and Watford, I made some alterations. The ploy of playing Gnakpa at centre back hasn’t truly convinced. Therefore I gave 17 year old Moore a starting berth, ensuring for the first time this season we would have round pegs in all of the round holes. I also rested the tired Nicholls and dropped the ineffective Dodds.

Just a quick note about season tickets. After the decent attendance we got against Darlo, I enquired with Bob as to how many season tickets we’ve sold for this season compared to last. It transpires we sold 2890 prior to our one and only Blue Square Premier campaign. This year we’ve sold 3204, an increase of 314. Good stuff.

The two teams ran out today to Underwear by Pulp, a classic if ever there was one. We were in orange and Barnet in white. Brian was back with me in the dugout which was a bonus.

Good thing I found some other stuff to ramble about prior to this paragraph because not a lot happened in the first half. The first fifteen minutes in particular were a complete dead loss. The crowd seemed to spend the entire time to chatting to each other rather than watch the game. Can’t blame them.

Then a Barnet opening on 18 minutes. Medley and Jackson swopped close quarter passes on the edge of the area to give the latter a clear sight of Stubhaug. Jackson fired hard but too straight, and the ball was bashed away by clenched fists. Wake-up call.

This gave us the impetus to create some openings of our own. Well, to call them openings might be pushing it. Forays forward is probably more apt.

For instance, on 20 minutes Tony James looped a header over the bar from a corner. The keeper was never troubled by it and James had been stumbling backwards at the moment of contact. If highlights of this game had been on Match of the Day I doubt it would have made the cut.

Then on 22 minutes Spencer took a left footed slash from outside the area. It went approximately eight yards into the advertising hoardings. Prior to the shot it hadn’t been a bad move building up. Several incisive passes had been swopped in the final third; we just couldn’t work out a way to make the final breakthrough, hence Spencer’s low percentage snapshot with the wrong foot.

Oh, and then there were the bookings. Lots of them. By half time Poole, Keane, Moore, and Bowditch had all been booked for Luton. For Barnet, Deverdics, Loft, and Magelhaes saw yellow. The referee seemed to have made a conscious decision to give out an automatic yellow for ANY foul, regardless of how bad it might be.

It was because of Dorian Moore being on a yellow that the visitors almost broke through close to half time. The youngster had been comfortably about to beat Deverdics to the ball but then hesitated just a fraction of second (obviously worrying about the consequences of mistiming). The Barnet striker took advantage but strangely shot far too early and the ball went a yard wide. Seriously, he shot from about twenty five yards there when he could easily have run in on goal!

The final belated effort of a poor first half went to Niven. It was a hopeful punt from thirty yards and it sailed a good three yards over. How the crowd groaned.

“I can’t believe I came back for this” Brian moaned as we walked down the tunnel. “I’m not fully recovered, you know. It’s only my dedication to the job that brought me back toda – “

“Oh button your pie-hole”

You know what? In my opinion, we need a new striker.

[ScottleeSV]

“You must try harder in the second half! You’ve got to! I want more effort, more desire, more determination, more conviction, more everything. Where’s the energy from the Darlington game gone? This isn’t Watford out there it’s ruddy Barnet! We beat this lot two years ago with a much worse side than we’ve got now, so come on! Sort it out!”

Such is football, we then went out and created a better chance than anything in the entire first half. Poole teased Gillet with the ball before darting left to shape for the cross. In it went and it was perfect onto the head of Bowditch. The striker attempted to head it back across goalkeeper Kadosh but didn’t quite get it far enough into the corner. Kadosh managed to switch the direction of his feet just in time and make the safe, parrying the ball sideways.

Barnet responded by almost scoring with a fluke. Deverdics scurried off to the side of the penalty area before attempting to turn the ball back into the middle. He mishit it and the ball flew over Stubhaug’s head and millimetres away from the top corner.

Further half chances followed to both sides leaving me unsatisfied that, as the home team, we weren’t definitively having the best of it. So, as soon as the hour mark passed I made my first substitution, sending Buckley on for the lacklustre Spencer.

Straight away we almost took the lead, even though it had nothing to do with Buckley. A Keane free kick was just too high for most heads. Only Taylor could leap high enough to get the slightest flick on the ball and it still wasn’t enough to deflect it inside the post.

66 minutes and a huge moment in the game. The referee, who had been throwing cards around like confetti all day, finally deemed it necessary to show a second one to the same player. Luckily, said player was wearing the white of Barnet. De Magalhaes was the unlucky man. For once Keane was the victim, shrivelling pathetically at De Magelhaes’ slightest touch. The ref bought it and the Barnet man was off for an early bath.

“Hey” I called out to De Magelhaes as he passed close by me. “If you’re planning on turning the bath on as soon as you get in, just remember the hot water knob’s a bit funny in that away dressing room. You need to let it run a good two or three minutes before any hot comes out. So I’ve been told anyway”.

“Okay. Cheers”.

“No worries”.

As the Barnet manager then panicked and began waving his arms around trying to adjust his formation, our boys took control. Luton passes suddenly began zipping around with far more teeth than they had before the red.

In the 69^th minute all the Barnet players were back near their own area as Taylor crossed one in low. Yakubu scrambled it away but only as far as Niven, who went for the low skimmer. The ball didn’t reach the goal but it wasn’t cleared away either. Instead it took two deflections, first forwards and then backwards before landing on the right foot of Bowditch. Knowing he wouldn’t have time to take a second touch before getting tackled, Bowditch half-volleyed towards goal and the ball flew in under the bar.

Goddamn get in! Cue mass celebrations as Bowditch wheeled away to celebrate, closely followed by several other Luton players. Brian and I did a high five. With the sending off having only just happened too, it felt like we’d struck a double blow.

I didn’t rest on my laurels, immediately sending Hogarth on for Moore. I wanted fresh legs on at the back, just in case our visitors were planning any super human efforts with ten men.

They weren’t. Barnet were dire after going one down.

His tail up after sort of having a hand in the first goal, Taylor went on a blinding run in the 76^th minute. He did some work down the right before cutting infield and threatening to shoot from range on his left. He didn’t in the end, instead choosing to slide a diagonal ball through to Poole on the far side. Poole shaped to shoot but beautifully slid the ball across the six yard box instead. From here it was a simple tap in for Bowditch’s second goal. Get in!

Or not. The linesman adjudged Bowditch to have strayed a fraction offside prior to the pass from Poole. Not a welcome decision around Kenilworth Road.

It had been such a good performance from Taylor I took him off three minutes before the end so he could soak up some acclaim from the crowd. The newly introduced Dodds went up front with Buckley switching to right wing. The game had long seemed to be petering out nicely. Barnet hadn’t coped very well with ten men at all.

In the final minute, Barnet risked sending one too many men forward and were caught short. Niven collected a quick throw out from Stubhaug and soon managed to send Bowditch away. This could have been the hat trick chance but for that goal getting chalked off. As it was, Bowditch had to make do with a brace. He slotted calmly under Kodash from eighteen yards out and the points were officially safe.

--------

FULL TIME (att - 6022)

Luton Town 2 (Bowditch 69, 90)

Barnet 0 (De Magalhaes s/o 66)

--------

(other results)

Aldershot 2-1 Walsall

Cheltenham 2-1 Bournemouth

Chesterfield 3-2 Accrington Stanley

Exeter 2-0 Brentford

Grays 1-3 Notts County

Grimsby 2-2 Hereford

Rochdale 2-1 Lincoln

Rotherham 0-0 Yeovil

Shrewsbury 2-2 Darlington

Torquay 0-0 Chester

Wycombe 1-0 Oldham

--------

| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 1st   |       | Notts County  |       | 2     | 2     | 0     | 0     | 4     | 1     | +3    | 6     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 2nd   |       | Exeter        |       | 2     | 2     | 0     | 0     | 3     | 0     | +3    | 6     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 3rd   |       | Aldershot     |       | 2     | 2     | 0     | 0     | 5     | 3     | +2    | 6     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 4th   |       | Shrewsbury    |       | 2     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 5     | 2     | +3    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 5th   |       | Grimsby       |       | 2     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 5     | 3     | +2    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| [b]6th   |       | Luton         |       | 2     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 4     | 2     | +2    | 4     | 
[/b]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 7th   |       | Torquay       |       | 2     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 3     | 1     | +2    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 8th   |       | Chesterfield  |       | 2     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 3     | 2     | +1    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 9th   |       | Rotherham     |       | 2     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 0     | +1    | 4     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 10th  |       | Grays         |       | 2     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 4     | 4     | E     | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 11th  |       | Wycombe       |       | 2     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 3     | 3     | E     | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 12th  |       | Cheltenham    |       | 2     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 2     | 2     | E     | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 13th  |       | Lincoln       |       | 2     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 2     | 2     | E     | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 14th  |       | Rochdale      |       | 2     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 2     | 2     | E     | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 15th  |       | Walsall       |       | 2     | 1     | 0     | 1     | 2     | 2     | E     | 3     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 16th  |       | Darlington    |       | 2     | 0     | 2     | 0     | 4     | 4     | E     | 2     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 17th  |       | Yeovil        |       | 2     | 0     | 2     | 0     | 0     | 0     | E     | 2     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 18th  |       | Hereford      |       | 2     | 0     | 1     | 1     | 3     | 5     | -2    | 1     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 19th  |       | Chester       |       | 2     | 0     | 1     | 1     | 0     | 0     | E     | 1     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 20th  |       | Bournemouth   |       | 2     | 0     | 0     | 2     | 1     | 3     | -2    | 0     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 21st  |       | Oldham        |       | 2     | 0     | 0     | 2     |  0     |2     | -2    | 0     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Accrington    |       | 2     | 0     | 0     | 2     | 3     | 6     | -3    | 0     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 23rd  |       | Barnet        |       | 2     | 0     | 0     | 2     | 0     | 3     | -3    | 0     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Brentford     |       | 2     | 0     | 0     | 2     | 0    |  5     | -5    | 0     | 
| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 

[banglared]

Look, you've already achieved your highest ever position in the pyramid (although you did that in the first game as well I assume)!

[ScottleeSV]

Yep. Did it with both results. It's been a good start

----------------

21/08/10 - Pasta de la Martin

No sooner had I fulfilled my post match commitments, I rushed home to prepare for the evening ahead. Chantelle was coming. Tonight was the night we would officially rekindle old fires. Potentially then, I was now entering my final few hours as a singleton for the entire rest of my life. Potentially.

To mark the occasion, I decided to put on a surprise candlelit dinner. Pasta was the name of the game. I’m good at making pasta. I’d also stopped in at Mr Singh’s on the way home (now largely fronted by Mrs Singh) and picked up a nice bottle of red. It was a Merlot from Valle Central in Chile. 12.5% volume.

With five minutes to go until she was due, I set the table and lit the candles. The pasta was still cooking but you don’t want it ready straight away. First you want your lady to see you rushing back and forth between the kitchen and the living room like some kind of gourmet super chef. It just looks impressive. At least I think so.

When the doorbell finally rang, I took one last peek in the mirror and then headed down to open up.

Chantelle however only gave me a passionless peck when she saw me, and she didn’t speak a full sentence until safely up in the living room. Michael Myers was obviously out and about again.

“Oh” she said in surprise, stepping into the semi-dark and seeing the candles.

“You approve, mademoiselle? Allow me to show you to your tab – “

“I can’t stay for dinner”.

“Eh? Why not?”

She didn’t immediately answer, instead turning the main living room light on before going over and blowing the candles out. Then she sat on the settee and beckoned me to join her.

“I haven’t got rid of Marcus yet. He’s at home right now watching Luke”.

“What?! Why? I thought you were going to get rid of him by now?! You’ve had all week!”

“You don’t understand. There’s been a complication”.

“What complication?”

“His brother died last week. Some sort of walking accident in Australia”.

“So?”

The word was out of my mouth before I could properly vet it. Chantelle didn’t look annoyed though. She fiddled with her nails for a moment and then continued on.

“So – I haven’t been able to bring myself to dump him. Not yet anyway. He’s too heartbroken. I thought I could do it this week. I really did! I can’t though. It’s too soon for him. I need a bit more time to pass before I break the news. I don’t want to be a heartless cow to him. He's not a bad guy, you know".

“Well just so I know; how much extra time are we looking at here?!”

“I dunno. Another week maybe. That might be enough”.

“Well alright, fine, but can’t we still see each other in the meantime?! He can’t be going around your place every night, surely?”

“No of course he's not, but I still don’t think I should come see you whilst I’m still with him”.

“Why?”

She turned to face me, briefly putting her hand on my cheek. Then she took it off again.

“Because I’m not that sort of girl. I’m not some tart - going backwards and forwards. It’s just not me. Anyway, one week won’t kill you. I’m sorry about tonight. I didn’t know you were going to make so much effort”.

Now she got up and headed for the door. I guessed she was about to leave.

For a moment I stayed where I was, my vision locked absent-mindedly on one of the cushions. Then something awful dawned on me and my legs sprang to life.

“Hey, hold on a second” I called out, catching up to her by the front door. “You and him – you aren’t still – you know – doing stuff – are you?”

Chantelle sighed. Deeply.

“I have to. Otherwise he’ll get suspicious”.

“Oh for crying out lo – “

“Hey!” she interrupted. “It’s not my fault we’re in this situation! If you hadn’t have dumped me in the first place, I wouldn’t even have met Marcus, never mind be going out with him! I need you to be patient whilst I get this sorted out”.

Against every instinct in my body, I restrained from further protest. Chantelle absorbed my silent reaction for a moment and then put a reassuring hand onto my neck.

“Don’t worry” she said more softly. “I’m completely 100% with you! I just need to sort this out. In the meantime – if the time starts to drag – I dunno – try and remember how good the other night was. We’ll be back to that very soon. Promise”.

“Okay” I replied through gritted teeth.

What had happened between us the other night though was half the damn reason this was all so frustrating! I don’t know how to explain it, but if that night hadn’t have happened, I don’t think waiting for Chantelle to dump Marcus would have been anywhere near as difficult. Go figure.

She gave me one last peck on the lips and then disappeared down the stairs. Before I realised I was doing it, I said goodnight to her back just so she knew I wasn’t p!ssed off (even though I was).

Remembering I still had the hobs turned on, my next port of call was the kitchen. This was where I found Bambi hiding out. She was stood with her nose in the air sniffing what was cooking.

“Don’t worry” I said in a huff. “They’ll be plenty left for you. Bloody plenty”.

[ScottleeSV]

24/08/10 - In a shopping arcade far far away

Whilst shopping in town today, I spotted a new shop. Funnily enough it was right next to The East Side Dojo. It was called The Luton Town Souvenir Shop.

‘That’s got to be Cyril and Lee’s new place’.

The proof hit me when I got up close to the window. In the bottom right hand corner was a man sized sticker of C-3PO, that gold coloured android from the Star Wars films. I know that, by the way, because I looked the information up online prior to writing this. Anyway, written inside a speech bubble emanating from C-3PO’s mouth were the words – Star Wars merchandise available to buy/sell on first floor.

Yep. No doubt this was definitely the place. There was no mention of Tommy Wiggins anymore but it was definitely the place.

Not wasting any more time, I pushed my way through the door.

“Hey, James!” were the words that immediately greeted me. They came from the lips of Lee.

“Hi mate. Wow!”

I hadn’t expected it but the shop was incredible! In size it was about as big as a penalty area. More impressive was its tidiness. Unlike the ragbag nature of the old port-a-cabin, this place actually looked like a proper professional club shop. It could have been the Manchester United megastore painted orange and white.

Around the outside of the room, mainly on shelves of varying heights, were the actual souvenirs. There were mugs, key rings, DVD’s, rosettes, old rattles, scarves, towels, pens, pencil cases, programmes, notebooks, quilts, pillows, condoms, everything you could possibly want with the words Luton Town written on it.

Then, covering the more central portions of the room, were the shirts. In all shapes and sizes, home and away tops were neatly lined up on racks with almost with the military precision of a Marks and Spencers or a Gap.

In that moment I realised there was no truth to my theory Cyril might have abandoned Kenilworth Road because he’d missed out on Caroline’s old job. No. He’d left because a great opportunity had presented itself - a chance to move on the world - a chance to take a small idea and make it bigger – to expand – to grow – to live his dream. Credit to him. Credit to BOTH of them even!

As I stood there gobsmacked (with Lee definitely enjoying the look on my face), Cyril suddenly came down the flight of stairs positioned near the door.

“James!” he said enthusiastically. “Glad you could come see our new base of operations”.

“Cyril, this is fantastic! It looks great! How are the sales going?”

“Quite good seeing as we’ve only just opened. We’re certainly doing better than we were at Kenilworth Road anyway. Having a Star Wars section upstairs has definitely helped. We never really had the space to do that before. Now we’ve got plenty of space! Well, upstairs we have anyway”.

“Glynn was telling me you’ve got a new third partner, someone who helped finance the start-up costs of all this”.

“Yep” he beamed, turning his head back towards the stairs. “Oh Albie!”

‘Albie? Hey! Hang on a second - '

Before I could conclude my train of thought, down the stairs waddled none other than – you guessed it – Albie Bootle. And just like the last time I saw him, he was dressed in a Star Trek uniform.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed. “I thought you two hated each other?!”

“Well” Cyril began. “We all kind of bumped into each other over the summer and, well, I guess we came to realising we’d have far more success if we joined forces”.

“Eventually Albie’s going to open a Star Trek section up in the Star Wars room” Lee added. “It can only help bring more people in”.

“Absolutely” re-enforced Albie himself.

“I just can’t believe you guys are actually working together!”

“Well, you’d better believe it!” Cyril grinned, patting Albie’s back. “Me and Albie have entered a new era of intergalactic co-operation”.

The three proprietors all glanced across each other and chuckled.

“Err, right” I muttered.

“Hey, let’s show him the upstairs!” Lee suggested.

“Nah, look, I only popped in to see the Luton section for a minute. I really ought to be go – “

“Oh come on!” said Cyril. “It’ll only take a minute”.

Shrugging my shoulders, I followed. So did Albie and Lee.

As we trundled up to the first floor landing, Cyril informed me that they still have permission to store Star Wars gear at the old port-a-cabin i.e. the stuff they can’t fit in the new shop.

He also just had time to tell me that the second and third floors are flats, and that Cyril, Lee, and Albie have already started living in them as part of the lease. Heady times indeed for the boys.

At the top of the stairs, Cyril hesitated.

“You go first” he told me, indicating towards the door.

“Why?”

“Trust me. Just do it”.

“Okay fine, but just so you know; I don’t really care for bucket-of-water-falling-on-head jokes”.

“Oh just go in!”

Holding my breath, I did just that.

Just as my eyes were taking in the hoards of Star Wars gear lining the room, a tune began to play above my head. I just about recognised it as Darth Vadar’s theme, or the Death Star theme, or whatever.

“What the – “

“Lee used his technical capabilities to wire up a little music box to the door. Every time it opens, a different Star Wars tune plays. Cool or what?”

The tune still playing, I turned around to face the outer hallway I'd just come from. Cyril, Lee, and Albie were all grinning out there, waiting for my approval.

'Oh for the love of God'.

[ScottleeSV]

25/08/10 - Murky waters

“The most memorable places were definitely in Brazil” Darren shared with me. “I’ll never forget the Pantanal wetlands”.

“The what?”

“It’s like a huge kind of half river half marsh. Well, it’s mostly river, but the surface is covered in greenery and shrubs and things. We stayed in this town called Porto Jofre, in an area called Corumba. I think it’s near the centre of Brazil but more to the left, if you get me. Anyway, we managed to get this guide to give us a boat ride. Jesus, I’ve never felt so uncomfortable my whole life. We saw alligators in the water, snakes too; all sorts”.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The snakes were the worst because they got the closest to us. They weren’t small water snakes either. They were these huge, big things. Boa Constrictors even. The few I saw looked so big I was worried they might be able to rise up into the boat if they’d wanted to. It was only a rowing boat with a motor attached to it”.

It was lunchtime and we were in the canteen. Sky Sports News was currently showing on the widescreen but I had no interest in it. All that channel does is play the same old s__t over and over again. I don’t know why so many players who come up here insist on putting it on.

“Oh, and the Chapada dos Veadeiros was amazing too”.

“What’s that?”

“It’s this huge national park with forests, and caves, and waterfalls. We spent an entire week out there. One night we camped and got caught in this huge rainstorm. Lucky we were close to this really craggy rock-face though. It meant we could shield from most of the rain. It wasn’t as if the tent was much of a haven against the force of the water!”

He talked about his experiences with real enthusiasm. Thankfully, he seemed able to separate the good things that happened on his holiday with the bad things that had simultaneously happened back home. It would have been so easy for him to start working out what he'd been doing and where on the day Caroline had died (for all I know he secretly has done that, at some point, but still), or for his brain to simply label the whole trip as – The holiday I was on whilst my friend was busy dying.

But I don’t think he has or will do anything like that. I think the good memories of the trip have survived intact, and rightfully so. Darren should look back on his trip as the bachelor vacation of a lifetime.

It's not easy though. Sometimes, when I’m remembering all my own trips around the world, I struggle to do so without remembering Charlotte. So I know how difficult is to avoid negative associations. Well done, Darren, I say.

“I’m impressed by how you’ve talked more about the scenery than what the women were like" I followed on with. "I thought all you were going to talk about when you got back were how the women in country A compared to the women in Country B”.

“Well” Darren grinned, shuffling in his chair. “Don’t think there aren’t stories to tell on that score! There was this one girl in Peru, on Lake Titica. An appropriate name. She was amazing, the best of the whole trip”.

“So Brazil doesn’t win all the categories then?”

“Ha! Well it doesn't win in the best willing female category, not this time anyway. Hey, I tell you what though, something occurred to me on the plane home”.

“What's that?”

“Well, I thought to myself that now you’re single again, me and you should go out on the pull together around Luton! That would be interesting – my talent and your experience – could be a great combo”.

“Err yeah, it probably would be. Thing is though, I’ve got a new girlfriend. Well, we’re not actually official yet, but we’re close to being official. Bottom line, I can’t go out on the pull with you. Not at the moment anyway”.

“Oh, well that’s a shame. Good that you’ve found someone new anyway. Who is it?”

I fidgeted and looked out the window, wondering how to answer. I still had half of a sausage roll left to eat but I was full up now. I didn’t feel like eating any more. On the back wall, Georgie Thompson had just announced that a hailstorm was likely to disrupt play in golf’s PGA Championships.

“Well, you might be a bit shocked at who I’m with – “

“Oh come on! As if! Whoever it is, she can’t be any worse than Chantelle can she? So glad you got rid of that bint, by the way. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you what a waste of space she is whilst you were actually with her. Wouldn’t have been right”.

“Darren – “

“I mean seriously” he chuckled. “I don’t know anyone who puts the S into Slag quite like that girl. Lucky escape that, dude. Lucky esca – “

“Darren!”

“What?”

“Stop talking. Please stop talking. As in right now”.

“Why? What’s up? Jesus”.

“It's just - bad karma - slagging people off like that. Now leave the damn past alone. People change”.

“What are you talking about?!”

Completely bewildered, he had his arms spread wide now as if I’d said something in foreign. In response I shook my head but didn’t actually reply, choosing instead to once again stare out at the stadium.

“Alright, well, whatever” he then said in one brisk slurry. “You know what? You’re getting really touchy about really random things lately. If you’re peed off about Crimewatch rejecting Caroline’s case then fair enough. I’m not happy about that either. Other than though, Jesus, stop being so touchy!”

And with that he got up and left in a huff, only briefly returning to grab the rest of my sausage roll.

“You weren’t going to finish that, were you?” he asked.

“No”.

“Okay. Cool. See you downstairs”.

“Yeah see ya, mate”.

“Bye”.

We’ve never been that successful at falling out, me and Darren. Never.

[ScottleeSV]

26/08/10 - Artists at work

I was in my private office today when Katrina knocked on the door. Apparently two men she didn’t recognise, both carrying cameras and clipboards, had just wandered into the canteen unchecked. Deciding to investigate, I walked on down towards the door and poked my head in.

One of the men I immediately recognised as Ricky Page-Tansell, that film director I’d been introduced to the other week. The other I hadn’t seen before. They were stood by the window talking about something really excitedly.

“Hey” I said, walking up behind them. “What’s going on?”

“Ah” exclaimed Ricky. “James, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. What are you doing?”

“We’re planning the movie”.

“Planning the movie?”

“Yeah. You know; the pre-production stages?”

He said the words pre-production stages whilst doing the inverted commas signs with both hands. I found it quite patronizing.

“I’d have thought you’d have had the script all finished by now”.

“Oh we do, more or less, but what we haven’t done is plan the finer details of the actual deaths. We can’t do that until we’ve cased the building with a fine toothcomb to see what there is to work with”.

“I see”.

“For instance, just before you came in, we came up with a really good one”.

“Oh?”

Ricky sidestepped around a chair and lifted his hands up so they were adjacent to each other.

“How does this sound? The gorilla killer has a big fight in here with one of the main characters. At one point I thought we could even have him pushing one of those drinks machines over in an attempt to squash his intended victim, only for said victim to quickly roll out of the way. Anyway, eventually, the gorilla killer throws the guy through this window onto the spectator seats below. Then he jumps out after him and a big chase scene ensues down towards the pitch. What do you think?”

“Sound riveting” I said unenthusiastically.

“Are you kidding?! It’s gonna be f__king immense!”

“Hey” said the other guy, a hairy canary who looked liked he hadn’t eaten in a fortnight. “If you’re not busy, maybe you could show us around the rest of the rooms we haven’t been in? Bob gave us permission to look around by ourselves but so far we’ve just been kind of stumbling around blindly, not really knowing where we’re going”.

“Yeah!” said Ricky. “Could you do that?”

“Err well, you know what, I’m really busy today. You know how it is; players to sign, people to see. And it’s not really that big a building, truth be told. I’m sure you’ll manage”.

Ricky lifted one hand to his mouth and made a show of turning his smile into a frown. I think I saw one of Brian’s daughters try that one on him once when he wouldn’t give her a second helping of treacle pudding.

I looked at my watch and then back at Ricky. Then I sighed.

--------

“Oh, we came up with a good one for in here, didn’t we, Gerald?”

We were walking down the stairs now. The one called Gerald was in front with me and Ricky side by side two steps behind.

“Yeah. A really good one".

“Basically, it goes like this” Ricky continued, retaking control of his own baton. “Someone reaches the top of the stairwell only to see the gorilla killer standing on the very top step banging his hands against his chest, you know, doing his whole gorilla intimidation thing? Then he throws the victim down through this gap, here, between the stairs. The guy cracks his head on the ground floor and blood gushes out all over the place”.

“Awesome” I replied.

“Damn right it’s gonna be awesome! It’s gonna bloooooow the fans minds!”

--------

Two minutes later we were in the male toilets on the ground floor. Ricky’s bubbly mood however had temporarily gone flat.

“We have to have a death scene in here!” he remarked loudly, pacing back and forth. “I just can’t work out how. Nothing’s coming to me!”

Gerald also seemed stumped. He was leaning back against one of the sinks, ponderous fingers running through his stubble.

“Well I’ve got an idea” I piped up with.

“Oh?”

“Well, let’s say, the gorilla killer throws someone against that mirror behind Gerald. And it smashes. Then, the gorilla killer picks up a shard of glass that’s conveniently shaped like a knife, and he stabs the victim to death”.

I thought that was quite good for me. Shame Ricky didn't think likewise.

“Nah, that’s too tame. This is a sequel! We can’t just have the normal stabbings and eye gougings that littered the first film. We need to up the ante! We need bigger and better! We need to stay ahead of the competition! We need to – “

“I’ve got it!” Gerald suddenly announced.

“You have?"

"Yeah".

"Well? Go on then. The floor is yours".

"Okay. Let's say, a guy on the run from the gorilla killer hides out in one of the toilet cubicles and locks the door. The gorilla killer comes in tries the handle but it doesn’t open, so he leaves the room again. This leads the guy inside the cubicle to breathe a sigh of relief because he thinks the gorilla killer has abandoned the chase”.

“But he hasn’t has he?” Ricky enquired with a smile.

“No!” Gerald replied. “He comes back in – with a flame thrower! Then he torches all the cubicles in one huge swarm of big f__k off flames. The victim gets roasted alive”.

“Dude!” cried Ricky, running towards Gerald and giving him the world’s biggest hug. “That is f__king immense! I love it!”

“And where exactly is he going to get a flame thrower from in the middle of a football club’s administrative centre?” I asked with my arms crossed.

“Oh details smee-tails! We’ll easily enough work out some bulls__t reason why one might be lying around. That’s not important”.

‘God this is ridiculous’.

“Right!” declared Ricky. “That’s three deaths sorted. Only five more and I reckon we’ll break off for lunch. Is there a Mcdonalds near here?”

[FlownCanary]

Hey dude! Just to let you know I'm still here! And still enjoying the story, best of luck in League 2!

[ScottleeSV]

Cheers matey

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28/08/10 - The longest day begins

According to Ricky, the sight of the gorilla killer banging his arms against his chest in slow motion with the toilet cubicles burning away in the background, will eventually become of the most iconic images in horror film history. Hmmm. Anyway, I managed to excuse myself from their company not long after that. There was only so much I could take.

Today, by contrast, was guaranteed to be long day with no chance of ducking out early. It was Notts County away followed by a hurried trip back home for the goth festival. And then I'd be staying over in someone's tent. To save time on my return, I packed up a travel bag and left it by the front door. I’d also persuaded Brenda to look after Bambi overnight. I’d dropped her off prior to leaving for Nottingham.

Back in 2009, Notts County away was my first ever league fixture as Luton manager. We lost 1-0 that day, firmly setting the tone for our relegation season. We did beat The Magpies 2-0 in the return game at Kenilworth Road, but by that point the damage had long been done.

Notts County are reputedly the oldest football club in the world. Wikipedia however only describes them as the oldest of all the clubs in the world that are now professional. Given that Notts County obviously existed before Nottingham Forest, one wonders how Forest eventually ended being able to boast three or four times the fan base.

If I went through County’s one hundred and fifty year history I’d been here all day. Highlights include winning the FA Cup and finishing 3^rd in the top flight, both of which happened over ninety nine years ago. These days County generally fluctuate between the third and fourth tiers not achieving much at all. And that's all your getting.

Unlike some of the tin-pot places I went to last year (see my chapter on Histon), I was never going to be stuck for things to do in Nottingham. Obviously the previous time I went there I was about to manage my first league game and as such was too highly strung to leave the player’s sides. These days of course I’m far more at ease in the role.

First thing I did was visit the City of Caves. This is a tourist attraction accessed from a Nottingham shopping centre. It’s basically an underground sequence of chambers you can walk through and look at. In centuries past these chambers were used as air raid shelters, homes for the destitute, and various other things.

I also took in a museum – The Brewhouse Yard Museum. This is like a giant sized cottage containing various depictions of Nottingham life from the past three hundred years. Not bad.

Now to the game. Personnel wise, I made four changes to the team. Three were my decision whereas one was forced on me. First in was Charlie Daniels for Richie Byrne. Daniels is quality player who has been frozen out so far this season by newcomer Poole. Just to keep him fresh and interested, I gave him a game today in his secondary position of left back.

I also put Kearns in for Niven. This was slightly harsh on Derek, who hadn’t played all that bad against Barnet. Kearns however was just somebody I fancied for this particular game. Nicholls was still not fit to return.

My third deliberate change was Dodds for Spencer. Neither of those two have done anything so far but Spencer was the most recent to play so now it’s Dodds’ turn. Danny Cadamateri, if you’re wondering, hasn’t featured so far because he’s long term injured.

I was quick to point out during my team talk that Notts County were top of the table going into the match. The Magpies won their opener 1-0 away to Rochdale and then backed it up with a 3-1 win at Exeter. Beginning any campaign with two successive away wins is impressive. We were going to have to be on top of our game today.

To the song Stars by Dubstar, the two teams ran out to a crowd of over five thousand. County were in their famous black and white stripes and we in our orange.

“Do you remember the last time we were here and Mayo scored the winner for them?” Brian asked.

“Yeah, and then I accidentally went around referring to him as Kenny Mayo until someone finally corrected me. Yeah yeah”.

[salkster2102]

County managed to win their openr against themselves? Impressive!

[FlownCanary]

Being as I currently live in Nottingham, may I say that the caves are an awesome treat to go an see!

[pooman2279]

“Do you remember the last time we were here and Mayo scored the winner for them?” Brian asked.

“Yeah, and then I accidentally went around referring to him as Kenny Mayo until someone finally corrected me. Yeah yeah”.

Haha, I can't believe you remember me posting about that. Still following the story mate, keep it up. Although I hope you can do me a favour and let County win. Please?

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, Salk. Was a horrible error that one.

I wouldn't know, Canary. I've never set foot in Nottingham my whole life. Hopefully Halifax will get Notts County away in the FA Cup one day so I can see the caves. Can't see us getting far enough in the competition to ever play Forest.

Heh. Poo, I pass that Kenny Mayo comment every now and again when I go back to check for plot inconsistancies and things. It's always made me grin that one.

---------------

28/08/10, League Match 3

Notts County v Luton Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (3 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (53 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (107 apps, 3 goals)

DC – Tony James (60 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Michael McKerr (3 apps, 1 goal)

MC – Keith Keane (99 apps, 11 goals)

MC – Daniel Kearns (debut)

ML – Glenn Poole (3 apps, 0 goals)

MR – Michael Taylor (41 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Dean Bowditch (35 apps, 17 goals)

FC – Louis Dodds (3 apps, 0 goals)

I’d hoped for a slow pace to the game early on, a bit like you see in Serie A when they just casually knock the ball around for half an hour.

Didn’t turn out that way. The first five minutes were nothing short of frenetic.

In the 1^st minute Michael McKerr almost became the first Luton right back to score two in the first three games of a league season since – well, Cyril will probably be able to tell you. McKerr accepted a short pass from Keane in centre mid before half-volleying a long range shot inches wide of the post. Ooh! Almost!

But then County roared back. Indeed they were soon pecking away at our back four like much tougher birds than Magpies. Butcher won a corner off James, and when it was whisked in, Hunt headed confidently home at the near post. But hey, what was this? Flag up for an infringement? Fantastic.

Another chance wasn’t long coming. In the 5^th minute Facey rode a couple of challenges down the middle before swapping passes with Edwards. He got lucky with a bobble and a ricochet but then showed terrific aplomb to curl the ball around Stubhaug from the edge of the area. The ball hit the inside of the post before going agonizingly over the line into the opposite corner. One-nil to the home side.

“We’re now 6-0 down in 95 minutes of football played so far this week” Brian informed me.

“Thanks for that, Statto”.

The inevitable calm period kicked in after the goal. In the 16^th minute, County almost paid for taking their foot off the gas, Kearns heading over from a Daniels corner. What a brilliant start to his Luton career that would have been. Shame.

Disaster though in the 22^nd minute. Louis Dodds went chasing the ball stupidly high up the pitch and stuck a high boot into Tann. The Notts County defender then proceeded to roll around as if he’d been shot.

“Now that’s what you call fake Tann” Brian chuckled.

“Will you please be quiet?”

As the physiotherapist ran on to treat the supposedly wounded, the referee showed Dodds a second yellow followed swiftly by a red. He was off. How the Notts County fans laughed and jeered as Dodds trundled off the field with his head down. I didn’t speak to him as he passed me. I was too mad. What a tool.

The next ten minutes were a struggle not to sink too far under the water. County poured forwards again and again. First, Charnock’s cross, which had seemed to be mishit and drifting behind, suddenly caught a gust of wind and landed on the crossbar. With Stubhaug stunned and trying to regain his bearings, Facey went up for a header with McKerr and got there. He headed the ball downwards into the turf. The ball was going in but Stubhaug managed a last gasp super save to palm it away.

The Norwegian then almost spoiled his fine moment by spilling a long shot from Scannell. The ball popped out towards Knight but Gnakpa nipped in with a fine intervention. After his disappointing sending off on Tuesday, that was much better from Gnakpa.

Another chance, a better one, wasn’t long in coming. This time pain-in-the-ass Facey collected a chest down from Butcher before shaping to smack one from twenty five yards. He didn’t shoot though, electing instead to slide Knight in between James and Gnakpa. Knight’s first touch ended up costing him the goal. It took him too wide and by the time he pulled the trigger, Stubhaug had most of the goal covered. The ball hit the side-netting and we’d survived again.

I have to say we were badly missing Nicholls in centre midfield, someone who could slow the game down and lead by example. It was hard for me to do it from the touchline.

That said; we did just about make it to the break without further damage. It felt like a long way back from here, mind, even if the score-line showed only one goal for Notts County. I didn’t fancy our chances in the second half at all.

[ScottleeSV]

“You can’t go chasing this game willy-nilly when you go back out. We all know what happened on Tuesday. I want to see conservative play for at least the first half hour of the second half. If you’re still only one down with fifteen minutes to go then by all means push on and have a go. Then, if we do score, they’re not going to have much time to come back at us again, right? You can’t go chasing it for the whole forty five though. For one thing, you’ll be knackered by the final ten minutes. And two - it’s a low percentage play anyway”.

Just as we were walking back out I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Wondering if this might finally be the news I’ve been waiting for from you-know-who, I whipped it out slightly too fast and ended up dropping it a like a hot potato.

“Jesus” said Brian. “Who are you hoping to hear from? The Queen?”

“No I’m err I’ve been waiting all day to see if the dry cleaners are finally finished with my favourite suit. This might be them now”.

“Oh. Right. Is that old McAndrew’s shop down near where you live? Would be quite a leap for him to start texting people when pick-ups are ready. He was still using a notebook for a ledger the last time I dropped something off”.

I feigned a grin but didn't reply.

As Brian then turned away to slap Tony James on the back as he ran past, I was finally free to check who my message was from.

Disappointingly, it was Darren.

We’re right in the back row of Luton fans. Go on, giz a wave!

‘You bloody tit!’

I wasn’t in the mood to give a wave.

I did perk up ever so slightly however when Michael Taylor hammered a shot just over in the 47^th minute. Okay, that wasn’t exactly in sync with my master game plan, but it hadn’t missed my much. I’m not convinced the keeper was saving that.

Naturally, because we had ten men, it was only a matter of time before County got themselves going again. BUT, it seemed to me we were coping better. We were keeping possession for longer before giving it away. Bowditch was holding the ball up better too. There were much longer gaps between the County chances. Signs were – almost - promising.

Just after the hour mark I took Kearns off and threw Gill on. This was because Kearns was lacking a bit of match fitness, and if there was one virtue being heavily put to the test out there right now it was fitness!

67 minutes pretty much signals the three quarter mark of any football match. Today it signalled the beginning of the end for our unbeaten record on the season. Edwards hit a pretty aimless pass towards the corner flag but the ball actually hit the flag and stayed in. Knight was the first to it, McKerr second. The Irishman went sliding in clumsily and Knight went down like a cheap hooker.

Now this should have been a straightforward booking and on with the game, right? Well it might have been but the fact County player Jorgenson ran in and put his chin up to McKerr in disgust. McKerr didn’t react back but Matthew Gill did, taking hold of Jorgenson and trying to get him away. This led to someone in black and white picking on Gill, and so on and so. In the blink of an eye a full blown pushing session had broken out involving about fifteen players from either side.

“Oh for Pete’s sake” I said, turning away in frustration.

“A big ugly this” Brian informed me.

“Yeah I can imagine”.

“Ooh! I think Keane just hit someone”.

“Eh? Where?”

Spinning back around, I was just in time to see the ref brandish Keane with a red card (to a great big roar from around the ground). It was one of those reds where the ref doesn’t just hold the card up, he then flicks it with his wrist in the direction of the changing rooms, just to show you how much of an insult he considers it you're still standing on his field of play.

“It was that goatee bastard who started it!” Keane decided to tell me as he strutted towards the tunnel.

“I’m not interested” I replied. "Go on. Off you go, son”.

To describe too much of the final twenty minute would be a waste of my time. Suffice to say we lost. With only nine men we were quickly reduced to mere spectators, as County passed the ball around taking the Michael.

To try and waste some time I made subs (both done separately). First, I put Niven on for McKerr. This changed us from a 4.3.1 to a 3.4.1. Then I put Byrne on for the slightly unfit Daniels.

It took until the fifth minute of stoppage time but County did eventually add a second goal. Charnock swept the ball home from twenty yards on a diagonal after a weak clearance from a corner. No more than they deserved really.

Maybe the goth festival would be more fun?

--------

FULL TIME (att - 5138)

Notts County 2 (Facey 5, Charnock 90+5)

Luton Town 0 (Dodds s/o 22, Keane s/o 67)

--------

(other results)

Accrington Stanley 0-1 Exeter

Barnet 2-2 Rochdale

Bournemouth 2-2 Chesterfield

Brentford 1-2 Torquay

Chesterfield 0-1 Grimsby

Darlington 0-1 Grays

Hereford 1-0 Shrewsbury

Lincoln 1-0 Wycombe

Oldham 2-2 Aldershot

Walsall 3-0 Rotherham

Yeovil 0-2 Cheltenham

[ScottleeSV]

28/08/10 - Five go to gothic moor

By the time I got home I reckoned I had about ten minutes before Rick and the rest of them showed up to collect me. Despite the fact three of the five of us who were going could drive, we’d decided to only take one car because of the anticipated overnight parking costs. And I was perfectly happy for Rick to be the one doing the driving. I hadn’t fancied leaving my car in the middle of some un-policed field in total darkness.

I spent the first five of the ten getting changed, the second five double checking that my bag had everything I’d need.

‘Toothbrush and toothpaste – check. Changes of clothes for the morning – check. Wellington boots, unworn in about six years – check. Snacks – check. Dressing gown for extra warmth whilst sleeping – check. Pack of four toilet roll – check’.

The toilet roll wouldn’t fit in my rucksack so I had to carry it in my hand as I went down to the car. Nicky was the one who stepped out to greet me.

“Hiya!”

“Hi”.

I quickly noticed she was already wearing her wellingtons. With her blue jeans and red hooded top she looked like little Red Riding Hood about to go see the three bears.

“Oh, toilet roll!” she then exclaimed, seeing what was under my arm. “I forgot about that!”

“That’s okay. There’s four rolls in this pack. More than enough for both of us”.

“Thanks! Do you want to put it in my suitcase though? Doesn’t look like you’ve got any room in that bag”.

“You've brought a suitcase? For a one night stay?”

“Well, I thought it might come in handy as a barricade. Me and Sally watched this film the other week called Alive, and the campers in that got hit by this huge blizzard in the middle of the night. One or two of them drowned in the snow before they even realised what was happening”.

“Love a duck! We’re only going ten miles. We’re not going to the bloody Andes!”

“Hey don’t make me fun of me! There was a blizzard in this country too once. I remember it from when I was a kid. The snow went up past my knees".

“Fair enough” I conceded, as Rick then got out and opened the boot for us. “Oh, and Nicky, whatever you do, don’t lose that toilet roll. Savvy?”

“Don’t worry!”

--------

Because of where we all lived in relation to where the festival was taking place, Darren was the last person to get collected. He sat in the back with me and Nicky. Nicky was the one in the middle. Wendy was in the passenger seat and Rick in the driver’s side. Those two, by the way, looked up gothed up and ready to rock out. It was very obvious they’d done this kind of thing before.

“So who are we watching tonight then?” I asked, making some light car journey conversation.

“Are you kidding?” Rick enquired. “Tonight’s the main course! Zombie Orgy on the main stage!”

“Cool. Are they really good then? I remember Ca – Caroline used to talk about them all the time”.

Silence at the mention of Caroline’s name. Notice how I sort of stuttered a bit when I said it, too? I could hardly not finish once I’d started though. That would have looked even worse.

“Yeah she did” Rick eventually replied. “Don’t be freaked when they come out on stage though. The lead singer does this thing at the start of every gig where he screams into the microphone”.

“Do you think they’re gonna open with Garden of Evil tonight?” Wendy asked.

“Probably”.

“Is that one of their songs?” – Darren.

“Yeah it’s one of their big stadium anthems. They often open with it to get the crowd going”.

--------

We stopped at a service station en route. It was at this point Darren realised he’d forgotten to bring some food along.

“That’s a bit sloppy” I told him. “I’d have thought you’d be showing the rest of us how it’s done after that big trip to South America”.

“Har-har!”

As he, Wendy, and Ricky then went inside (for varying reasons), I was left momentarily alone with Nicky again.

Briefly she smiled at me and in that moment I really caught the vibe that tonight was far more about enjoying ourselves rather than standing around reminiscing about Caroline. Okay, sure, officially we were all here because of her. That didn’t mean we were going to mope though. Too much time had passed between her death and the festival for that. The realization comforted me. I didn’t want to spend my evening holding a lighter in the air.

What I was about to say next to Nicky was a complete lie. It was – however – something I simply felt like doing in the spur of the moment.

“Nicky, do you remember that time you lost that quid in the confectionary machine?”

“Hmmm. Oh. Yeah”.

“Well I’ve managed to get it back for you. A guy was in there the other day with keys to the machine and I managed to get it”.

And with that I pulled a pound coin out and handed it over.

“Aw thanks!”

“No problem”.

[ScottleeSV]

28/08/10 - Bottoms up

It was still light when we got there and would be for quite some time. Thank God it was still summer.

Rick parked the car up in a field full of other cars, a yellow jacketed steward having directed us to our exact spot. The place where you handed your tickets in to enter festival grounds was a gap between two huge marquee tents. Actually, tents made up a not too shabby percentage of the entire outer boundary, the rest of it consisting of trucks, cars, hedges, and hallelujah, the occasional high fence. The place certainly wasn’t impregnable to anyone who wanted to get in without paying.

First order of business was to put the tents up. Finding a spot for this wasn’t as hard as you might think; not everyone coming tonight was an overnighter.

“I didn’t think I’d be back out under the stars again so quickly” Darren said cheerfully, banging one of his poles into the ground.

“Err yeah” I replied, stood nearby with my arms crossed.

I felt a bit of fifth wheel at the moment, unsure as to how I could help. Nearby, Rick and Wendy were busy putting another of the tents up. I hadn’t a clue how I could help though. I knew nothing about tents. Absolutely nothing.

To make matters worse, Nicky had wandered off a few minutes previously to do a little exploring. If I’d noticed her go I would have gone with her. The way I figured, if me and her were going to be useless in this situation, we might as well be useless together. Alas, she’d gone off without telling me.

“Don’t worry” said Darren, perhaps noticing my shiftiness. “Once I’m done with this, I’ll help you set yours and Nicky’s tent up. You’re not gonna miss the gig”.

Hang on. Can we rewind a bit there please?

“What do you mean mine and Nicky’s tent?”

“Well, quite simply, you’re in with her”.

“Eh? Why? I assumed I was gonna be in with you or something”.

“With me?!”

Darren stepped away from the pole he’d been hitting and threw the hammer down. Then he picked up his nearby bottle of orange and took a swig. Clearly it was thirsty work putting a tent up.

“If you’re in with me then how I supposed to pull tonight?”

“PULL?! This is supposed to be a tribute night. For Caroline. It’s not supposed to be a pulling night”.

“Trust me, if you could speak to Caroline right now, she’d tell you she’d be happy for me to pull on her tribute night. She wasn’t above a little - festival love – from time to time herself”.

I turned around, glanced at Rick and Wendy, then back at Darren.

“Well shouldn’t I be with Rick then, and Wendy with Nicky. Something like that?”

“Dude” Darren chuckled, going to work on the second pole. “You might not know this but Wendy and Rick are doing each other. I figure they’re probably gonna want their own tent to themselves tonight. And anyway, what difference does it make being with Nicky? It’s not as if you don’t know each other. And it’s not as if you won’t have your own sleeping bags and everything. Seriously, what’s the big deal?”

“For me - not much. It’s different for women though, isn’t it? They get – uncomfortable”.

“Well Nicky didn’t seem that uncomfortable about it when I told her. She already knows and she’s fine with it. Jeez”.

“Yeah well I’m gonna go find her and check anyway”.

Shaking his head, Darren turned away and began to attach his canvas sheet to the poles. I, meanwhile, strode away to find Nicky.

I found her not far from the entrance. She was carrying a four pack of Fosters in her hand and for some reason was looking pretty smug with herself. One thing she didn’t appear to be (at least on the surface) was disturbed at the prospect of bunking with me. Good.

“I managed to get some beers for later!” she announced by way of greeting. “We can share them if you want. I’ll have one and you can have three. I’m not that keen on lager but it was all that was going”.

“I dread to think how much they cost you in this place” I said, eyeing the cans suspiciously.

“They didn’t cost me anything”.

“Come again?”

“Well, I got talking to this really nice guy with a nose stud, and he offered to give me the four pack for in exchange for our toilet paper. Well, your toilet paper. Same thing”.

“You – you did what?”

“Well, it seemed to make good business sense. The toilet paper was worth, what, two pounds? But the cans must be a worth a fiver at least. More importantly, now we get to have a drink later!”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. Doing my best not to shout, I put my arms on my head and shuffled disbelievingly from one foot to the other and back again. I felt like tearing my hair out.

“Nicky, we needed that toilet paper! How are we going to – “

“Hey! Relax! What do you think I am, an idiot? Look over there”.

She was pointing somewhere to her left and my right, to a spot about two hundred yards away near one of the tents resting on the outer boundary. There were two portable toilet shacks over there, one for males and one for females. From a distance they looked shabby and well used. God knows what they looked like up close.

“See?” Nicky pressed. “They have toilets here! And what's more, there’s more of them around the rest of the site too. Turns out we didn’t need to bring toilet paper after all! I was so happy when I found out. I hadn’t been looking forward to squatting down in a bush, if I’m perfectly honest”.

Ignoring her for the time being, I continued to squint in the direction of the toilets. Even without my contact lenses in, I could just about make out a guy with a biker’s jacket and a punk rocker hairstyle about to go in the men’s. He was carrying a toilet roll.

“Nicky, just out of curiosity, have you actually been in any of the toilets yet?”

“No. I’ll probably be straight in there I’ve after had my lager tho – “

“Wait here, will you?”

Without waiting for an acknowledgement I headed off towards the toilets.

There wasn’t much of a queue when I got there, presumably because Nicky had been accurate when speaking of other such port-a-cabins to be found elsewhere. I don’t know about the rest of them but there were four private cubicles inside this one, three of which were currently vacant (obviously that biker guy was still having a dump in the other one).

The first empty cubicle didn’t have any toilet paper. Hell, it didn’t even have a holder. Same with the second cubicle. Same with the third.

Sighing discontentedly, I shut the door to the third cubicle behind me and locked it. Then I crouched down on one knee and put my hands together in prayer.

‘Heavenly father, who art in heaven, please give me the strength to not be mad with Nicky when I go back out there. I have to spend the rest of the night with her, and even share a tent with her. It just wouldn’t do to demonstrate my true feelings of disdain right now. Please do this for me, father. Please'.

[ScottleeSV]

28/08/10 - Zombie Orgy

Although I didn’t make Nicky aware of my annoyance, I still couldn’t help being in a quiet mood as the five of us set off for the actual gig. As the others talked excitedly about where we were going to stand and which songs might be played etc, I hung back with my hands in my pockets wondering if it might be worth texting Brian and getting him to record Football League Extra.

We eventually stopped walking about a hundred yards from the main stage (and maybe fifty yards left of centre). We stopped because we literally couldn’t get any closer. There were thousands of people around us now. The populace seemed to have tripled since we’d first arrived to put our tents up.

Being just past 10pm, it was more or less dark now. Except of course in and around the main stage - lit by powerful floodlights. We could still see each other way back in the crowd; it was just considerably dimmer.

After fifteen minutes of standing around freezing our arses off, a huge roar of appreciation sounded up as the four members of Zombie Orgy finally took to the stage. They didn’t just walk on and crack on with it though. Oh no. First they ambled into their on-stage positions doing impressions of actual zombies. That is to say they held their hands at arm’s length and pulled zombie faces as they walked.

This must be something they do at the start of all their gigs because the majority of the crowd were just a little too co-ordinated in following suit for my liking. In the blink of an eye I was suddenly one of thousands of people pushing my hands into the person in front groaning like the living dead. I felt utterly stupid.

But then..

But then I just happened to glance to my left, at Nicky, at the same time she'd decided to glance at me. The sight of her face all screwed up as she pretended to be a zombie cracked me up like you wouldn’t believe. In an instant my despondent mood was extinguished and I was able to start enjoying myself.

Then, just as Rick had forewarned in the car, the lead singer of the band screamed into his microphone.

“Wahhhhhhhhhhhhh!” – That’s what it sounded like.

After this, a song started up and everyone finally stopped ‘doing the zombie’. Whatever song it was, it took a good minute to build up into its full rhythm. During this time, a guy diagonally in front of us found himself no longer able to contain his excitement at being here.

“Zombie Orgy, I f__king love you!” he cried. Not that anyone could hear him outside of a range of about ten metres.

Once the lead singer began actually singing it was a bit of a letdown. For me anyway. He didn’t so much sing the words as scream them out like some demented madman. The way he did it made it seem like the veins in his neck might pop at any given moment.

I couldn’t hear many of the lyrics over the course of the gig, although I did catch the words Garden of Hell in the opener (mainly because it was repeated several times over). Prior to writing this update, I looked up the full song lyrics online. I won’t copy over the whole thing. Just this one line should give you an idea of the overall tone.

(‘I’m suckin’ up s__tflies, straight from the well! My garden of eden! My garden of hell!’)

The five of us gradually drifted further apart the longer the gig went on. Rick had his arms hooked around Wendy’s waist from the beginning to the end, and every time I glanced at them they seemed farther away. Darren teleported at some point into a group of girls ten yards in front and never came back.

Me and Nicky on the other hand remained as stubbornly glued to the spot we started on as best we could. And whenever a surge from behind threatened to dissect us down the middle, either Nicky grabbed onto me or I grabbed onto Nicky.

Despite my initial cynicism, I honestly did have a good time! I was grateful for Nicky being with me. I was also grateful, once we’d returned to our tents, for the beers. And as for the toilet roll, it wasn’t as if we couldn’t just borrow some off the others in an emergency, right? In fact the more I thought about it, the sillier my internal anguish of earlier seemed to become. Thank God I hadn’t flown off the handle.

And so, once the beers were all supped and a thousand tales had been told around the unlit campfire, it was time for bed.

I no longer thought this part was going to be awkward. Of course, things rarely turn out the way they plan when it comes to me.

[ScottleeSV]

28/08/10 - Keep warm

Playing the gentleman, I remained outside the tent whilst Nicky got changed and into her sleeping bag. Wendy and Rick had taken no such precautions with each other's modesty, diving straight into their own tent after the hastiest of goodnights. God knows where Darren was. He was the only one who hadn’t come back after the gig for drinks. Knowing him he’d probably got lucky somewhere.

“Ready!” Nicky called from inside.

“Right then”.

Now I unzipped the entrance and clambered in. My companion was lying down inside her sleeping bag with just her head sticking out. She had a contented smile on her face and was watching me carefully.

Smiling back at her, I sat down on the edge of my own sleeping bag and began to take my trainers off. Although I planned to sleep in my jeans, I wanted to at least change into a different shirt because it was a bit sweaty from all that jumping around at the gig.

“I hope little Bambino is okay” Nicky commented.

“I’m sure she had a great time tonight being spoilt by Brenda”.

“And by Rory”.

“Yeah. Him too. Probably him more than Brenda actually. You know what kids are like”.

The time had come to take my shirt off, which meant briefly going bare-chested. Immediately the cold hit me like a knife and I shivered. Sensing I might be coming across like a wimp, I twisted my body around so I was facing away from my observer and began to fiddle with the fresh shirt I was about to put on.

“Oh!” I suddenly heard her say.

“What?”

“What’s that scar at the bottom of your neck?”

“Oh. That. Just let me get sorted here and I’ll tell you”.

Getting the shirt down over my head was a relief. And thank god I’d brought that dressing gown for added insulation! I retrieved that from my bag now and put it on. Then, finally, I climbed inside my sleeping bag and zipped it up. The two of us were facing each other with our heads on the ground about two yards apart.

The light was dim but there was enough of it to see with because we’d picked a part of the field with a temporary lamppost type thing positioned nearby. Evidently the powers that be weren’t going to switch it off overnight. According to Rick, the use of these things was fairly new at festivals and was intended to dissuade thieves. That said, the damn thing still wasn't actually that bright. Seeing Nicky from two yards away was still a struggle.

“It happened when I was a kid” I began, taking a deep breath. “I was playing for this football team and the manager was a real hard ass. He always used to shout at the kids if they did the slightest thing wrong. Anyway, one day, we played a really bad first half and he was mad as hell when we went into the dressing room at half time”.

I paused, two fingers touching and probing the scar as I lined up my next sentence.

“To cut a long story short, his temper boiled over and he decided to throw a cup at the wall. At least I think he was aiming for the wall. He missed though and the cup smashed into my neck. Pieces went everywhere and I was left with this”.

“Was it really painful?”

“Not at the time. But by the end of the day it was like really bad whiplash. I had neck ache for weeks. Worse from that, I was worried it made me look unattractive. Seems a bit silly to say now but back then that's how I felt. Briefly I did anyway".

“It doesn’t make you look unattractive. In fact – “

“In fact what?”

“Well - I was just thinking about a time when I still lived with my Grandad. There was this guy who used to fish with us sometimes. He was one of those people who always comes out with expressions and sayings and things. Most of them were about the sea. But one time, he said something like - you can’t be perfect if you don’t have any imperfections. Something like that. I spent ages thinking about that and what it might mean”.

“Well, you certainly don’t have any imperfections” I said.

To that she smiled and looked away. Then she shivered. It was a quite an animated shiver actually. It was enough distract my attention from the conversation.

“Nicky, are you actually wearing any layers under there? You look freezing”.

“Just the clothes I came in”.

“Just the clothes you came in?! No bloody wonder you’re cold! How could you forget to bring extra stuff? I’m a wearing a dressing gown over my clothes. It’s not perfect but at least it’s something”.

“I didn’t forget to bring any. I just – didn’t think I’d need anything else. It’s the summer. I thought it would be a nice summer’s night”.

That nearly induced me to tears. Of laughter that is. I seriously rolled first one way and then the other, all the time clutching my stomach over the top of my sleeping bag.

“Nice summer’s night?! In Luton? Haha. You really are something. You know that?”

“Stop it!” she grinned. “I’m cold. I need sympathy! Not mickey-taking”.

Despite how it funny it was watching her writhe uncomfortably, there was no way I could leave her like this until morning. She might contract hypothermia and die. And if that happened I’d have no-one to laugh at on the journey home.

It was a problem.

‘Hmm, how can I solve this?’

[Panpardus]

Still loving the story.

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks Pan

--------

28/08/10 - Keep warm (part 2)

“You’d better have my dressing gown” I told her, beginning to unzip myself (the sleeping bag I mean). “I’ll just have to cope”.

“No! I’m not doing that to you. I’ll be the one who copes. Don’t worry; as soon as I get to sleep I won’t be bothered about being cold anymore”.

“Nicky, it’s a scientific fact that men cope better in the cold than – “

“No! I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to get to sleep worrying about you. And I'd feel too guilty!”

I sighed and looked up at the tent ceiling. She wasn’t making this easy. I only had one other solution but it wasn’t something I thought Chantelle would approve of. Or even Nicky herself, for that matter, were she to take it the wrong way.

‘Oh bollocks to it. There’s no other way’.

“Listen err I’ve got another suggestion but you might not like it. In fact you might think I’m a pervert or something for even suggesting it”.

“What is it?”

“Well – these sleeping bags are quite baggy. Just so long as you think you can trust me, you could sleep in this one with me and then the added body heat would keep you warm”.

I held my breath, waiting for the reply.

“Yeah, okay”.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”.

After unzipping my sleeping bag again, I shuffled over and tried to leave as much room as possible for Nicky to climb in. The changeover was swift, the cold air providing ample motivation for her to get a move on.

Once she was in we lay side by side on our backs, shoulders touching. This was a bit too cramped though so eventually we made some adjustments. Nicky turned to face diagonally downwards in the direction of my neck, one arm gingerly place over my chest. I on the other hand shifted slightly more towards her so I could still see her face but was actually looking somewhere beyond her left ear.

“Is that better?”

“Yeah. Much better”.

The quality of conversation though had died a death, seemingly as we took some time to ponder what it felt like to be clutching each other in such a way

From my point of view, I felt electrified. Smelling her up close and holding up close had awoken something in me. I was suddenly feeling – excited.

‘Oh no. No no no. Don’t feel excited. No no no. This can’t be good. No no’.

Nicky twitched slightly and turned to face me. I could just about make out some her facial features in the darkness. Having started two yards apart our noses were now about two inches apart. I felt like we standing on the precipice of something that might completely shake our worlds. As for the cold, I’d totally forgotten about that by this point. If anything I felt too warm!

Then I felt two fingers ever so softly touch me on the cheek, and this electrified me even more. I responded by lifting my own hand up and putting it on her cheek. Then my eyes looked at her lips and I knew that certain walls - certain barriers - were crumbling. I couldn't hold away any longer. Maybe neither could she?

‘You are really something. You know that?’

Our heads converged. We kissed softly on the lips. Once. Just a peck. No tongues.

Then it happened again, and this time we held it for just a fraction of a second longer.

Then the door to the tent suddenly unzipped itself and a flashlight came down on us. Instinctively we let go of each other and shuffled awkwardly in the cramped space. Whoever was holding the flashlight then put it down on the grass so everyone had enough light to see each other with.

It was Darren.

“No way!” he said, eyeing us in shock. “Don’t tell me Nicky’s your mystery new girlfriend? No wonder you said I’d be shocked once I found out who it was! Funnily enough, I thought you two were spending an unusual amount of time together today!”

“Nicky’s not my new girlfriend” I told him, sitting up.

“You’ve got a new girlfriend?” Nicky asked, also sitting up.

‘Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear’.

“Yeah. Well, kind of. Technically we’re not official but we’re very close to it”.

“Who is it?”

“Just some girl. Look, as much as I’d love to tell both of you all about it, I’m not going to yet because I don’t want to jinx it. When we’re official though – IF we become official – I’ll tell you both then”.

Darren shrugged. Nicky on the other hand just lay back down thoughtfully.

“Boss, can I have a word outside?”

“Sure”.

Unzipping the bag again, I scrambled out through the entrance and joined Darren out amongst the elements. We walked over to his tent about twenty yards away and huddled behind the back of it.

I thought he was going to chew me out for messing around with Nicky, but turned out he had his own problems. And they were far more important.

“I’m staying at this girl’s tent about two clicks over”.

“Two what?”

“Two - never mind - she’s just over that way a bit. Anyway, I stupidly to forgot to bring some err bullet proof vests, if you know what I mean”.

Oh I knew what he meant alright. He was out of luck though.

“Do I look like I’m carrying condoms?”

“Oh come on, you must have brought some!”

“Well I didn’t. And you’re wrong, by the way. We weren’t about to do anything. She just came into my sleeping bag because she was cold. She hadn’t brought any extra layers”.

“Dammit”.

We stood shivering for a few seconds, each probably thinking about completely different things. Then Darren had a brainwave.

“Rick! I bet he’s still awake. He’ll definitely be stocked up”.

“Yeah. Rick. Good idea! Ask Rick”.

Hastily we said our goodnights, Darren scampering off towards Rick and Wendy’s tent and me back towards mine and Nicky’s.

Once I got back in I found that she'd fallen asleep. She was still in my sleeping bag, mind. At least that was something. I probably would have been worried she was annoyed at me if she’d retreated back to her own sleeping bag.

Carefully I slid myself back in and got comfortable. Then I peered down at her and watched her breathe in and out for a few moments. She looked very peaceful.

“Goodnight” I whispered.

Then I lay my head on the ground and closed my eyes.

[ScottleeSV]

August 2010 round-up of the other divisions

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Premiership

Top – Man City (9), Liverpool (9), Arsenal (9), Man Utd (9), Portsmouth (6), Reading (6), Newcastle (6), Chelsea (5)

Bottom – Ipswich (3), Wigan (3), Middlesbrough (3), Sunderland (2), Blackburn (0), West Ham (0), QPR (0)

A typically good start from the major forces, except for maybe Liverpool. Oh, and Chelsea might be a tad unsatisfied too. Down at the bottom, nothing’s gelling for moneybags QPR yet. Rumours of power struggles in the board room at Loftus Road are afoot. Of the other teams, Blackburn look a weak side this term.

The top transfer over the summer was Mario Gomez going from Stuttgart to Chelsea for £28 million. Another big move was Spurs bagging Javi Martinez from Athletico Bilbao.

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Championship

Top – Wolves (9), Coventry (7), Cardiff (7), Stoke (6), Bristol City (6), Watford (6), Leeds (5), Leicester (5)

Bottom – Swansea (3), Huddersfield (2), Birmingham (2), Doncaster (2), Blackpool (1), Barnsley (1), Burnley (1)

Wolves are the only team to still be 100%. No other great shocks near the top. At the foot, Birmingham have had a wretched start and must do better.

The big transfer activity in The Championship happened at relegated Bolton. The Wanderers have been asset stripping, selling Siri Radek to Villa for £5 million and Fabrice Muamba, also to Villa, for £4.5 million. Hard to see them going straight back up.

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League One

Top – Millwall (9), Carlisle (7), Gillingham (7), Colchester (7), Crewe (6), Sheff Utd (6), Brighton (6), Morecambe (6)

Bottom – Hartlepool (2), Stockport (2), Bradford (2), Bury (1), Bristol Rovers (1), Tranmere (0), Leyton Orient (0)

Great start for Millwall. So-so for Sheffield United. Brilliant for Morecambe.

Top transfer in League Two was Billy Sharp leaving relegated Sheff Utd for Norwich. The transfer fee was £1.7 million.

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Blue Square Premier

Top – AFC Wimbledon (12), Burton Albion (12), Rushden & Diamonds (11), Weymouth (11), Kidderminster (10), Cambridge (10), Mansfield (8)

Bottom – Oxford (5), Woking (5), Chelmsford (5), Fleetwood (4), Altrincham (3), Welling (3), Macclesfield (2), Forest Green (1)

Well look at this; Steve leaves Wimbledon and they suddenly top the league. What’s that about? Rushden are straight back into the promotion hunt again but it’s woe for Oxford down at the bottom. Their supporters must be tearing their hair out.

As for the relegation battle, can Macclesfield really drop any lower than Conference National? We shall see. Poor start for all four relegated clubs meanwhile. Except maybe for Chelmsford.

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Blue Square North

Top – AFC Farsley (10), Redditch (9), Southport (9), Barrow (8), Workington (8), Hinckley (7), Stafford (7)

Bottom – Droylsden (4), Gateshead (4), Alfreton (3), Hednesford (2), Guiseley (2), Cambridge City (2), Harrogate (1), Telford (1)

Over the summer Farsley Celtic have changed their name to AFC Farsley. Apparently they’ve done this so they sound less tin-pot. Fair enough. Can’t argue with what they’re doing on the pitch though. 10 pts from a possible 12 at The Throstle Nest so far.

At the bottom it’s a dreadful start by pre-season promotion favourites Telford. Who could have predicted they would be bottom at this stage? The top scorer so far is Tommy O’Brien of Southport who has 6 goals.

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Blue Square South

Top – Havant & Waterlooville (10), Ebbsfleet (9), Hampton & Richmond (8), Braintree (7), Bishops Stortford (7), Hayes & Yeading (7), Merthyr Tydfil (7)

Bottom – Lewes (4), Weston Super Mare (4), Dover (4), Maidenhead (3), Tiverton (3), Basingstoke (3), St Albans (1)

Teams with ‘and’ in the middle of their name are doing rather well. No major stories anywhere though.

St Albans have continued doing exactly where they left off last season – losing. I wonder if their manager is still spending every game talking to his mate on the phone? Time they sacked that fella, if you ask me.

[ScottleeSV]

04/09/10 - Here in Hereford

Given the bizarre turn of events at The Goth festival, the days since have been rather mundane. Nicky hasn’t mentioned what happened between us (or ‘almost’ happened, depending on how you look at it) and neither have I. Neither has she been funny or different with me. It’s almost as if she’s decided it was probably a dream and didn’t actually happen. I suppose I can live with that. It means our friendship won’t be affected.

As for Chantelle, I’m not going to feel guilty in the slightest. Firstly, we’re still not officially back together yet. Secondly, if she’s allowed to be sleeping with some guy for the time being then as far as I’m concerned I’m allowed to kiss someone. It’s that simple.

And whilst I’m on the subject of my girlfriend-to-be, she let me know by text earlier in the week that she’s going to need an extension of time for dumping Marcus. Apparently, just as she was finally getting close to dropping the bombshell, the bastard took off to his mum’s house in Bristol until further notice because of how much he’s struggling to get over his brother. So to sum up, Chantelle has indicated she’s probably going to need two or three weeks to get the job done instead of one.

I’m going to mention two sets of two words at this juncture – old James and new James.

I think the old James might have told Chantelle where to shove it over all this Marcus stuff. I think I would have got frustrated and used the whole thing as an excuse to call it off. The new James though isn’t like that. The new James is committed, dedicated, loyal, understanding, and willing to ride out the tough times. And this is my first big test.

I also think that the old James, having had that weird thing happen with Nicky, might have looked back on that situation and read into it that I probably wasn’t as mentally committed to Chantelle as I thought I was. The new James will not even be entertaining such thoughts.

And so here we on the dawn of another football match. It’s Hereford away at Edgar Street, potentially one of the more manageable away trips we’ll have this campaign. I’ve never taken on Hereford before as Luton boss. When we previously in the football league, The Bulls were in League One. I have in the past however played against them many times as a player.

When I think of Hereford I think of Ronnie Radford scoring that screamer against Newcastle in the 1972 FA Cup, then wheeling away with his arms up as people invaded the pitch. They were still a non-league club back then. In fact they only made it to the football league for the first time later that same year.

Although the momentum from seventy two carried them as far as the second tier, fortunes eventually reversed and Hereford would spend the majority of the next twenty seasons in the old fourth division. Then came the relegation to the Conference in 1997 before the long awaited bounce-back in 2006. Having made it back courtesy of a win over my old club Halifax, they’ve stayed afloat ever since.

I didn’t leave the team to go be a tourist today. This is entirely because of what happened at Notts County. Sometimes, after a painful loss, you have to stay with the players as much as possible and err basically earn your money. And that’s what I did today. If I had been free to do some exploring, mind, I probably would have gone to see The Old House, a museum about Jacobean times. Maybe next time I’m in town.

I made three changes to the starting line-up, two of which were forced upon me. Dodds and Keane are both serving suspensions of course so I had to bring in Spencer and Niven. I also dropped Kearns for Gill but that was just a judgment call. Nicholls is still out but is expected to return for Tuesday’s Johnstone’s Paint game away to Brentford.

The players ran out today to Nobody Does It Better by Carly Simon. Who was that being played for? Hereford?

We were in orange today and Hereford in white. Weather was sunny and calm so no excuses on that score. Crowd was less than impressive for a League Two game. I immediately figured there were probably less than three thousand total inside the ground. And that just about brings me to the kick off.

It would be taken by Spencer and Bowditch.

‘Come on boys!’

[Kongefar]

Sound to me like new James is setting himself up for a fall of epic proportions! Don't ever stop writing, I'm too much in love with the story to leave it behind. Ever.

[ScottleeSV]

James having a fall? Surely not?

Thanks for the compliment. Means a lot.

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04/09/10, League Match 4

Hereford United v Luton Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (4 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (54 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (108 apps, 3 goals)

DC – Tony James (61 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Michael McKerr (4 apps, 1 goal)

DMC – Derek Niven (39 apps, 3 goals)

MC – Matthew Gill (41 apps, 1 goal)

ML – Glenn Poole (4 apps, 0 goals)

MR – Michael Taylor (42 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Dean Bowditch (36 apps, 17 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (29 apps, 11 goals)

Not much to choose between the two teams early on. Hereford maybe just shaded the first eight minutes. They certainly created the only clear cut chance during this period, May escaping the attentions of McKerr only to fart about for too long lining up his shot; Tony James slid in desperately and made a great tackle. That was practically a one on one. Absolute criminal that May didn’t even get a shot off.

The Bulls were made to pay in the 9^th. And how! Michael Taylor hasn’t scored many goals for us (despite his excellent play week in week out) but this was a beauty. Accepting a pass from Niven, the winger took the ball on a few yards before cutting back inside and unleashing a superb left foot curler. Okay, it wasn’t hit perfectly towards the top corner, but it still beat goalkeeper Samson. I don’t think he was expecting a shot, to be honest.

Standing right in front of the Hereford supporters as I was, I didn’t overdo the celebrations. On the inside however I was doing somersaults. After the disappointment of the Notts County game, I’d been nervous about today and Taylor’s goal had just gone a long way to settling me down.

Better was to come. After 13 minutes Taylor once again teased and tormented his marker and this time opted for the cross. It was a trifle long for the Bowditch and Spencers of this world but not for Glenn Poole. The newbie headed back across goal and into the far corner. Two-nil!

This was fantastic stuff! It should be pointed out that Hereford hadn’t done too badly in their opening three games either. After an initially disappointing defeat away to Grays, they then managed a 2-2 away to Grimsby before winning their local derby against Shrewsbury 1-0. Like us they had 4 points coming into the match

Gill tried one from thirty yards soon after, perhaps wondering if everything was destined to hit the Hereford net today no matter what. Once that missed though, the game became rather turgid. Not a lot happened for quite some time. Hereford had most of the possession during this period. They just didn’t have much cutting edge. Still, the fact they were having so much possession alone was making me nervous.

I became even more nervous when McKerr was shown a yellow card for cutting down Frampton. The last thing I needed today was another red card. We’d had three in four matches so far. I reckoned one more today and I’d be hauled in front of the F.A or something to answer charges.

On 28 minutes Hereford had their second one on one of the match. This time it came from a chest down from Smith to give Chadwick the opportunity. Unlike May, he did get his shot off but was too close to the keeper to be guaranteed an easy goal. Chadwick must have been skirting the edge of the six yard box by the time he latched onto the pass, thus giving Stubhaug plenty of scope for the block, which he made successfully.

Spencer then gave us brief respite by heading weakly and straight at Samson, before the strangely named Diagouraga (sounds like a Final Fantasy monster to me) hit a shot that seemed to swerve about five different ways before finally flying narrowly over the junction of post and crossbar. The same player was booked a couple of minutes later for seemingly doing nothing more than engaging the referee in conversation. What that had been about I have no idea.

Psychologically, the missed chance of Chadwick probably contributed a lot to what happened in the final few minutes of the half. Some of the white shirted players began squabbling and resorting back to their loose play of the first fifteen. By contrast, unhurried and firmly in the box seat, we began to pass it around with confidence and retain more of the ball.

This resulted in two further opportunities for us. First, Bowditch linked up nicely with Spencer not once, not twice, not three times, but for four whole passes inside the box before the former finally slid his shot just wide.

Then Spencer had a chance. An easier one. And he took it.

Again it was that man Taylor down the right! After seeing off Valentine with his pure speed, Taylor whipped one in and Spencer side-footed the ball from the edge of the six yard box high into the net. That was a lovely flowing goal and probably the one that would kill off today’s opponents once and for all.