ScottleeSV Posted January 25, 2011 Author Share Posted January 25, 2011 They can kill! ---------- 11/03/10 - The hunting party I needed a weapon. I wasn’t going to take on the damn thing hand to hand. The first thing which came to mind was the handgun in Dave’s old safe. With a gun I could blow the wretched thing away from at least ten feet or more. Yeah, that was the ticket. Acting on this thought I hurried down the stairs and along the corridor. Just as I reached my destination however (I even hand my hand on the knob), an unwanted distraction appeared in the doorway to the communal offices. “Hey! I thought I heard somebody in here. Have you come to grab all your stuff too?” “Nicky! Err – “ Because of the baseball cap on her head, I’d almost assumed she was someone else at first. The easiest most obvious thing to do here was answer in the affirmative. I don’t like lying to Nicky though. Not only that but I’d clearly been about to enter Bob’s office with nobody else around. To report anything other than the truth might have made her unnecessarily suspicious. “So now I’m looking for a weapon” I concluded at the end of my heads up. I didn’t mention the safe or the gun. In fact the whole version was strewn with tiny white lies. Still, I was in a hurry. “Well you probably won’t find any weapons in there. Bob’s office is probably locked”. “Oh” I said in genuine surprise, rattling the knob to no avail. She was right. “Not to worry though. I’ve got just the thing. Follow me”. ‘Like what, a sharp nail file?’ “Nicky” I said, following her into the communal offices. “I don’t think you understand. This spider is probably one big momma. I need something brutal. A bendy ruler isn’t going to cut it”. “Don’t be stupid” she replied, opening her bottommost drawer. “I’m not an idiot like Mr Dilic. I wouldn’t send you up there with something rubbish”. “Then what – “ I stopped short. Nicky had whipped out a baseball bat. With smiling relish she executed a couple of pretend swipes through midair. One almost caught my shoulder. Then she passed it over. “I take back what I said. This ought to do the trick”. “Yeah, thought so”. “Why have you been keeping a baseball bat in your bottom drawer?” “Same reason I was just about to walk out with this on my head”. Nicky pointed upwards at the baseball cap and then took it off. Then she put it inside the cardboard box she’d had tucked under her arm when I’d first seen her. It looked like she had all sorts in there; make-up sets, stationary, women’s magazines, you name it. “Which is?” I asked. “Well, since I was a kid I’ve had this girl pen pal in America. San Diego actually; I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. Anyway, we send each other stuff from time to time. She sent me this cap once and the bat to go with it”. “Right. All this stuff in the box though you might as well put back in the drawers. No way will this ground floor will get flooded today”. Then, when Nicky opened her mouth to protest – “Trust me! Look, I’m so confident your possessions will be fine I promise I'll replace them for you if I’m wrong. I’ll even fly to San Diego and buy you another one of that exact same cap”. This convinced her. She didn’t begin unpacking the box right there and then however. She merely dumped it on her desk as if meaning to tackle the job some other time. “Okay” she sighed. “Let’s go get rid of that spider”. “We? Oh no no! I’M going for the spider. YOU’RE going outside to join the others”. “Technically you’re not my boss. And besides, I really think I should do this. I’ve always had a fear of spiders and snakes, any animal that’s small and mean really. Oh, and do you remember that time Mr Dilic was having all those other animals taken away, and I freaked? That was embarrassing. I don’t want to be like that. I want to conquer my fear. I’m coming”. “Nicky, this isn’t I’m a Celebrity! That thing’s running around in the open up there! It can sting and it can kill you! Besides, you haven’t even got a weapon”. Not missing a beat, Nicky immediately strode over to Darren’s desk and pulled a tennis racket out of his drawer. Then she did a couple of practice swishes and grinned at me. “Don’t tell me he’s got a pen pal too?” “Not that I know of, but I’ll tell you something I do know. He bought this racket at lunchtime the other day. He’s saving it for the summer – which means – he won’t miss it for a while”. “Fine” I conceded. “But you stay behind me at all times! Clear?” “Crystal”. ------------ Step by step we left the communal offices and made our way to the stairwell. Then, me with my bat and Nicky with her racket, we crept up to the second floor. I dread to think what we would have looked like to someone passing the other way. Outside the door which would take us into the corridor, I paused. “Okay” I said, and I’ll admit there was sweat beginning to appear on my chin at this juncture. “The tarantula could be anywhere after this point. I suspect it’s probably in Erica’s office rather than the corridor but let’s not take any chances. As soon as we walk through this door, keep your eyes and ears peeled!" “What are you going to do if you see it?” “You what?” “What are you going to do if you see it?” “What am I going to do if I see it? Well first I’m going to serve him his eviction papers. Then I’m going to frogmarch him out by his pincers. I’m going to kill him obviously! What do you think we brought the weapons for?” “But I thought we were just – never mind – okay - we’re here to kill – right - got it”. Unbelievable. “Right. I’m going to push the door slowly open. Ready?” “Ready” she said, gripping the racket tightly with both hands. She looked like she was about to receive serve on centre court. ‘Let battle commence’. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted January 27, 2011 Author Share Posted January 27, 2011 11/03/10 - The lair We got a surprise as we opened the door but it wasn’t from a spider. Brenda had claimed there was half a foot of water covering the second floor. Actually it was more like a quarter of a foot, but there was still enough to catch us on the hop. It didn’t take me long to resign myself to the fact my shoes and socks were going to get wet on this expedition. “My shoes are ruined already!” Nicky announced. “Does it really bother you, I mean, given the fact our lives are on the line an’ all?” “Well, not really I suppose. I’m not one of those vain women who cares about nothing but shoes”. “I’m glad to hear it”. “Besides, I’ve got about sixty more pairs at home. These are easily replaceable”. “Right”. With great caution we began to edge our way down the corridor. I realised after a few steps the overhead lights were still on up here. Had somebody forgotten to turn these ones off in their hurry to leave? A more pertinent question might have been – was it dangerous to be walking in water in a place where electrical lights were in operation? My instincts told me we were probably okay. However just in case it spooked her, I didn’t share my thoughts with Nicky. I was sort of glad of the lights anyway. Unlike the rest of the building, this floor wasn’t caked in gloom caused by a lack of sunlight from outside. I wouldn’t have wanted to search for the spider using the downstairs standard of light, put it that way. Just then Nicky yelped. Immediately I spun around with my bat raised. “It’s okay” she said, sighing heavily with one hand resting on her heart. “I just stepped awkwardly. And for some reason my brain thought I might have stepped on the spider”. No shame in that I suppose; the water wasn’t exactly squeaky clean. In fact it was just about dirty enough that you couldn’t see what was on the floor more than a few feet in front of you. A few steps later though and Nicky squealed again. This time it was because the overhead lights flickered from light to dark and then back again really rapidly. Then, moments later, they went out altogether. We were back to the gloom of earlier. “Ooh I don’t like this” she groaned. “It’s okay. Just step where I step, and don’t touch anything!” Eventually we reached Erica’s office. If we couldn’t find the spider in here I didn’t know what we were going to. There surely wouldn’t be time to search every other room on the floor before the back-up arrived. It was now or never. With great care I tiptoed towards Erica’s desk over by the back wall. I had half an idea the tarantula might be underneath it. It certainly didn’t look to be out in the open anywhere. Before I got there, Nicky yelped yet again. “Sorry!” she said, holding up a very wet looking Oxford English dictionary. “I definitely stepped on something this time though”. “Look” I told her, beginning to feel frustrated. “Just – stand against the wall”. Miserably my companion shrugged and began to do just that, backing herself towards the segment of wall next to the window. In the meantime I turned to the desk and knelt down. Then I changed my grip on the baseball bat so I could poke it beneath the desk drawers. If my quarry was under here I might be able to defeat it this way, or at the very least force it out into the open. Just as I was gearing up for my first poke, Nicky screamed really loudly behind me. “Nicky what the – “ Her second scream told this was no longer a drill. On turning around I saw the tarantula on the floor next to the window. Nicky had backed a few feet away from it in terror. By the looks of it the damn thing had been nestled on the window sill only for Nicky to disturb it by backing into the curtain. Changing grip again on the bat, I went in for the kill. And then err I tripped over something hidden in the dirty water and fell flat on my face. The bat went loose from my hand too. When I looked up, my head barely above the waterline, the abomination that was the spider was only two feet away. It was all hairy and horrible and big, and it was gently feeling the air above the water with a high leg. If this had been football, the ref would have blown against it for that. High feet. As it was, I froze. I couldn’t move. I was literally paralysed in fright. I couldn’t get up, or move, or do anything but look down the valley of death at this thing now turning itself towards me. And then it died. As suddenly as it had seen me, it got squashed under the force of Darren’s tennis racket. Freed from the spell, I lifted my wet body up and moved back to the desk to catch my breath. Nicky meanwhile, a look of sheer intensity on her face, began to wallop the dead tarantula again and again. She’d gone completely cave woman on its ass. It was upside down now and flattened like a pancake. Some of its legs had flown off in varying directions from the beating it was taking. Spider goo was all over the racket. And the water. And still she showed no signs of stopping! How many hits now? Nine? Ten? “Okay, Rafa!” I said, grabbing hold of her wrist. “I think that’s just about game, set, and match”. I thought she was going to turn around then and whack me then too! In the end she just dropped the racket and scurried out of the room without saying anything. I wanted to follow to make sure she was okay but I couldn’t; I had work to do. There was a newspaper rack by the side of Erica’s desk. Hurriedly I grabbed an old copy of The Daily Telegraph and began to mop up all the tarantula mess. I cleaned the racket as best I could too. Then I went to the nearest toilet and flushed everything spider-related down the chute. As I was going back down the stairs, the police and some other people passed me the other way (health inspectors? the centre for dangerous animals control? Who knows?). I’d succeeded just in the nick of time by the looks of it. Outside meanwhile I saw that most people had scarpered. “One of those guys in suits told us we wouldn’t be allowed back in today” Brenda explained. “Okay, thanks for waiting behind to tell me”. Across the car park I could see a solemn looking Nicky sat on the back seat of what looked like Bob’s car. She had her feet dangling down onto the tarmac. Her box of personal belongings were on her knee. Bob himself didn’t look like he was around to drive off at the moment so I went across to see how she was. As I did, Nicky’s baseball cap, resting now inside the box, got caught by a gust of wind and flew onto the ground some twenty feet away. Nicky briefly made to fetch it only to see that I was already on the case. Thus she quickly sat down again. “You okay?” I asked. “Yeah. Bob said he’ll give me a lift home seeing how the weather’s bad. He’s just gone to the loo. I think he wanted to have a word with the inspector guys too. Oh, and before you say anything, most of this stuff I’ve been meaning to take home anyway. Today just gave me a good excuse to finally get on with it”. “Right”. I stood there fidgeting with the cap for a moment wondering what, if anything, to say next. Then after catching one of my glances, Nicky guessed what was on my mind and spoke up. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Really”. “I hope so”. Then, after putting the baseball cap on head for her – “You did okay today, kid”. And that finally got me a smile. “Thanks”. “Hey, you want me to drop you off home instead? Bob might be a while for all you know”. “Yeah okay”. She got out of the car and closed the door. Then we began making our way over to my car across the way. Nicky even began to sing. Really badly. “Incey wincey spider - climbed up the spout! Down came the rain and WASHED the spider out!” “Sing one more line of that and you’re back in Bob’s car”. “Okay, sorry”. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted January 28, 2011 Author Share Posted January 28, 2011 13/03/10, FA Trophy Semi Final First Leg Luton Town v Stevenage Borough GK – Dean Brill (99 apps, 0 goals) DL – Richie Byrne (33 apps, 1 goal) DR – Claude Gnakpa (92 apps, 2 goals) DC – George Pilkington (92 apps, 4 goals) DC – Tony James (46 apps, 2 goals) DMC – Kevin Nicholls (59 apps, 16 goals) MC – Keith Keane (84 apps, 11 goals) ML – Charlie Daniels (43 apps, 4 goals) MR – Will Buckley (31 apps, 2 goals) FC – Danny Cadamateri (32 apps, 11 goals) FC – Dean Bowditch (23 apps, 7 goals) The four day rest since the Salisbury game had done us the world of good. For the first time in what felt like a long time, I was able to field a very strong side. Only Taylor and Bridges were missing, to be deputized by Buckley and Bowditch. Everybody else was more or less first choice. Throughout our bad spell earlier in the month I refused to play any player who was less than 90% fit. That policy might have cost us points at the time but I’m confident it will help our energy levels during the run-in. I must also point that today was the 100th competitive appearance for Dean Brill in a Luton shirt under my management. Several other Hatters veterans are also nearing that mark – Gnakpa, Pilkington, and Keane. The past few weeks aside, I think it’s really benefitted us over the course of the season being able to build the side around so many experienced hands. Our opponents for this FA Trophy semi final were Stevenage Borough. This was to be the sides’ fourth meeting of the season to date, with a fifth guaranteed for the return leg. We’ve won all three so far; we beat them 2-0 at home in the league, 4-1 at home in the Live Bunny, and then 3-2 away in the league. I was hoping to make it four in a row today. In front of a noisy crowd, swelled somewhat because of the local derby element, Bowditch and Cadamateri got us under way. It didn’t us long to score. In fact it took four and a half minutes by my watch. A cross from the right by Buckley produced an air kick from Oliver at the near post. The ball bounced erratically across the box and hit defender Henry on the backside (he’d slipped onto his arse just before the ball reached him). With quick feet, Daniels swiped at the loose ball left footed and buried it in the corner. Bedlam inside Kenilworth Road. ‘Wember-lee! Wembler-lee! Wember-leeeeeee!’ began the home fans as the game kicked off again. As there were still 175 minutes in the tie left to be played, I reckoned they were probably being a tad premature. Still, it was great to be in front. Great to see what I considered to be a real Luton first team out there playing again too. The visitors responded with a half volley over the bar from Ashton, twelve yards out. They looked much more adventurous than they had on their previous two visits to Kenilworth Road. “Do away goals count in this?” Brian asked. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. You’d think I would have researched it wouldn’t you?” “Well, let’s just make sure we score more goals than them then”. That view seemed to be shared by the players. After an initial spell of attempted retaliation from Stevenage, back we came. In the 20th minute Bowditch connected with an inch perfect cross from Daniels. The header was powerful but straight at Day who managed to punch it off to one side. Anywhere but the keeper and that was bursting the net. Many Luton fans (and the press) have mentioned countless times recently how much we’ve missed Kevin Nicholls. Despite the fact he played in the 0-1 defeat to Northwich, I would have to agree. He HAS been missed. Gill and Niven are both good footballers at this level however they’re just not Nicholls. Even the imperious Keane, for my money, lags a little way behind his captain when it comes to his importance in the team. The proof came on 29 minutes. A lovely little move starting on the left resulted in a ricochet on the edge of the away box. Steaming in like a steam train was Nicholls. With an outrageous side-foot he then passed the ball up into the roof of the net from fully eighteen yards. Day looked like he was beaten by the audacity of it more than anything else. So then, two-nil and 159 minutes left to play. It felt like we were taking crucial wickets on the first day of a test match. In truth I found it hard to get overexcited about the goals. I need to win this trophy, sure, but it will count for nothing if I don’t get us promoted. For the lacklustre Stevenage, the insult to injury occurred two minutes before the break. This time Keane chipped one in for Cadamateri who attempted a header down into the path of Bowditch. Ancelet was perfectly placed to stay alongside the striker and make life difficult for him, but instead to chose to lunge sideways in an attempt to control the bounce. The result? It went over his knee. To make matters worse, Ancelet slipped. Bowditch now had even more time to take the ball on and score. And he did so with aplomb, firing right of Day to make it three before half time. This was almost like the pure and righteous version of Macclesfield away. With any luck, I thought, as I headed to the dressing room at half time, I might be able to put the kids out for the return game. ‘Wember-lee! Wembler-lee! Wember-leeeeeee!’ Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
superharrytufnell Posted January 29, 2011 Share Posted January 29, 2011 I came across this by accident and I don't normally comment on these kind of things, but I felt compelled to tell you what a great story this is!! It's taken me a while to catch up and I can't wait for the next installment. Though I'm from South Yorkshire originally, my work covers Luton, Stevenage and the rest of Herts so I'm more than familiar with Kenilworth Road and the surrounding areas! Keept it up fella! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted January 29, 2011 Author Share Posted January 29, 2011 Thanks mate I appreciate you saying that. Cheers. ------------ It would have been nice to drum it into my squadron the job was only a quarter done, that if we could score more before full time we could then take it easy in the second leg. I felt however that approach would be a touch harsh. 3-0 at half time against a side like Stevenage is a great effort, particularly at a time of the season like this when we can rarely get a settled side together. As such, I told them I was proud of their efforts so far. I did warn them of getting complacent but it was done in the gentlest manner I could think of. Then I sent them back out and trusted they would have the intelligence not to do anything stupid. Stevenage meanwhile had obviously had a rocket shoved up their arse at the break. They came out almost at a sprint, as if maybe the manager was chasing them out of the tunnel. It didn’t look like they’d made any changes though. They were likely doing the old give-it-ten-and-see-what-happens routine. I’m glad they did because the 45-55 period was awful. We didn’t finish the tie off but neither did we allow our opponents an easy way back into it. Eventually, the ball obviously in their court to make something happen, Borough introduced Willock and switched to 3.4.3. They were going for broke now. The switch up made an immediate difference. Willock is a quick player and it was he who fathomed an opening in the 57th minute for Boylan. The pair swopped a one-two in the box before Boyland smashed one towards the far corner. Luckily Brill was equal to it and made the save. Bostwick sensed a chance to head the rebound into the net from distance but Gnakpa hooked it away from his forehead just in the nick. The adventurous new formation also made it easier for us to counter-attack. On 61 minutes Keane benefitted from a lovely little slipped pass by Bowditch into the area. Instead of shoot straight away Keane let the ball roll across his body over the penalty spot before then angling a right foot shot back in the opposite direction. This was also a rolled effort. Sadly it was ‘too’ rolled. Henry managed to just get back and hack it off the line. So close for Keane. Back came Stevenage, who seemed to be keeping most of the play in our half without actually creating much. It was a completely different match to the first half. Amazing how the score line so drastically affects the psychologies. Midway through the half I started to feel annoyed this was a two legged tie. Do teams really need this in the midst of a 46 game league season? No. Okay, I’m slightly biased because we had the 3-0 lead. Would I have wished differently had we been 0-3 down though? I’m not so sure. In fact I think I would have just said – “Yep, well done. Let’s just scrap the second leg though because you’ve obviously done enough to beat us already”. Just to keep warm I made some subs. On came Niven for Keane and Spencer for Buckley. In light of the latter, Cadamateri moved to right wing to keep the shape of the 4.4.2 in tact. Not long afterwards, Stevenage used subs two and three. Into the fray came Mills and Jelley (I hoped Jelley wasn’t going to make us wobble). Midfield maestro Bostwick was beginning to dictate play all over the place. In the 72nd minute he picked up a ricochet to fire low and hard and just a foot wide. Then a low centre from Murray was sliced up in the air by Pilkington. McMahon volleyed from the edge of the box but hit it low. Never the less, the ball spun up off Gnakpa’s foot and only just cleared the crossbar. Could easily have been a goal. The crowd had gone very quiet; they sensed they weren’t going to see another home goal now. The motivation just wasn’t strong enough. All that remained was to see whether we’d hold out for a clean sheet. I knew what might lift the boredom a bit. I hadn’t wanted to do it today but what the hell – I stuck Bridges on for the final few minutes. Just as I’d anticipated, the change enlivened the locals and at least got them banging their hands together for a few seconds. Bowditch it was who went the other way. As the linesman put the board up to signal four minutes of added on time, I reflected that 3-0 was a great score to take to Broadhall Way for the second game. What I should have done was reflect on how good a score 3-1 was instead. That’s right, just before the end, Stevenage sneaked a goal back. It came from Willock. It wasn’t anything special. A couple of crosses went in, one from both sides. Willock got free of James somewhere out towards the edge of the area and volleyed a loose ball through a crowd of bodies. Brill didn’t move and next thing the net was bulging. Bridges and Spencer barely had time to restart before the ref blew for the end. Would that goal cost us in the return game? I hoped not. Only time would tell. ------------- FINAL SCORE (Att - 4020) Luton Town 3 (Daniels 5, Nicholls 29, Bowditch 43) Stevenage Borough 1 (Willock 90+4) ------------- (league results today) AFC Wimbledon 0-1 Woking Cambridge 0-1 Crawley Droylsden 2-3 Oxford Macclesfield 1-3 Mansfield Northwich 0-1 Burton Salisbury 1-0 Kidderminster Tamworth 2-2 Histon Weymouth 2-0 Kettering York 1-0 Ebbsfleet (trophy) Southport 1-1 Rushden Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boydy9 Posted January 30, 2011 Share Posted January 30, 2011 Great story, I've found it while looking for something to do while my game is processing and I've only played 3 games in about 5 hours. I'm gutted I have to wait like everyone else now. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted January 30, 2011 Author Share Posted January 30, 2011 Thanks Boydy. Glad you like it. Good luck with your new game too ------------- 15/03/10 - THAT'S the single. Today I had a meeting with Bob and Glynn to discuss this song business of theirs. I didn’t have a problem in theory with the idea so I was fairly relaxed as I walked in and sat down. As this was Bob’s office, Bob sat behind the desk where as Glynn and I had two temporary chairs up front. “I have just one demand on this” I got in quickly at the beginning. “No Amarillo or variation of. That crap has been stuck in my head ever since the Live Bunny final”. “Ha!” Glynn chuckled. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t thinking along those lines. How’s upstairs coming along, by the way?” “Not bad. The pipe’s been fixed. The carpet refitting people have been in over the weekend too, so that’s all done. Just need to gradually replace some of the stuff that’s been ruined now”. “Good good”. Glynn reached down into his man bag and pulled out a clipboard with some notes attached to it. “Okay” he said. “Getting down to business, I’ve been trying to think of a good cover version we could do over the past week or so. I’m not much of a song writer myself so I quickly figured that doing a cover was the way to go. Anyway, tell me what you think of this". He nodded at Bob and got out of his chair. Bob meanwhile reached down behind his desk and pulled out a football. Glynn, after then catching the ball off Bob, gestured for me to back my chair up out of the way to give him some room for whatever he was going to do. Then he wedged the ball between his arm and his side and began to sway from side to side. Then he began to sing. “Martin’s got Luton in motion and we knooooow what he can do. Martin’s got the town in motion and we’re headdding for League Two”. “Oh you’re kidding” I said once he’d stopped. “New Order? And who exactly would sing it?” “One of the first team squad; whoever’s got the best voice. Then we’d get another player to come in and do the rap bits. What do you think?” “Yeah it’s not bad I suppose. Just so long I’m allowed to stay well out if it". “Show him the other one you came up with” Bob chuckled. “Oh yeah”. Glynn sniggered and put the ball down. Then he re-took his seat and whipped his phone out, placing it carefully on the desk. “This one will come across a lot better if I use the actual music. See what you think”. Four of five careful button presses later and the music came on. It didn’t take me long to identify it as The Ghostbusters theme tune. By my estimation almost half a minute went by without any words being sung. Then some came on and Glynn sang over the top of them. ‘When you’re on the slide! - And it don’t look good! - Who you gonna call? - JAMES MARTIN!’ “Oh god” I muttered. ‘When you’re Luton Town! - And you need a boost! - Who you gonna call? - JAMES MARTIN!” “Glynn I’m not so sure this is – “ “No listen!” said Bob, grinning and nodding his head to the music. “This next bit’s my favourite. I love this”. Just after the music changed tempo, Glynn and Bob pointed at each other over the desk like big kids and sang – “I ain’t afraid of League Two!” Then a few seconds later they did it again. Thankfully I was spared from listening to the whole thing. “Pretty good eh?” Glynn asked, switching it off and putting his phone away. “Err yeah. I suppose. So err which one are you planning on using?" “Unfortunately, neither” Bob answered. Silence descended on the room. “Why?” I broke it with. “Well, as much as Glynn’s had fun putting his ideas together, it’s proven too expensive to get the rights to use these songs. We can’t just do a cover of any song we want and start selling it around Luton; we need permission from the artist. That permission costs money. Unfortunately, money at the club is tight and there’s no way we can afford it”. “So where does that leave us?” “In a stew, I’m afraid. We’re probably going to have to write our own song. Not that we’ve had any joy so far. As Glynn alluded to previously, none of us are song writers. We don’t have the first clue”. More silence. This time I coped with it by grabbing the ball off the floor and twirling it around in my hands. If this had been any other of Glynn’s ideas I would have walked out right then and there with a hidden smile on my insides. I would have considered it unnecessary hassle avoided and thanked my lucky stars. As it was though, I don’t know, I think maybe I was bowled over by all the pro James Martin lyrics in those song imitations of theirs. “Why don’t you gentleman take the halfway ground on this?” “What do you mean?” “Well, the music business is probably full of good musicians and song writers who haven’t yet made it big. Why don’t you just find someone like that, someone who would probably help us out for free to get some much needed publicity for them self?” “Not a bad idea” Glynn admitted. “I don’t actually know anyone like that though”. Bob shook his head too. “Well just maybe I do” I continued. “He’s a bit unorthodox, but hey, I’m guessing we can’t be too picky right now can we?” Two shakes of the head this time. Now it was my turn to get my phone out. Bob and Glynn watched on intrigued. “Operator” I began. “I need the number for The Haunted Cow pub in Luton”. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
FlownCanary Posted January 31, 2011 Share Posted January 31, 2011 Oh no, that's not who I think it is, is it? ....... haha Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Patone Posted February 1, 2011 Share Posted February 1, 2011 Imagine what the song is going to be like... Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 1, 2011 Author Share Posted February 1, 2011 -------------- 15/01/07 - Slave to the wage “So let me get this straight. You want to take six months leave – a sabbatical – to go travelling around the world. Is that more or less the gist?” “That’s right”. “And you’re happy to do this completely without pay?” “Yep”. I can’t write about Michael Lynn’s office without mentioning the plants. All over the place they were; on the windowsill, on the back of his desk, on top of the filing cabinet. There was even one inside a special holder on the back of the door. This was the second of those. Johnny Huitson had smashed the first when opening the door too wide; the plant pot had got squashed between the door and the wall and fallen to the ground in twenty pieces. Under Lynn’s disgruntled eye, Johnny had spent all lunchtime cleaning that one up. “You know” - he replied, picking up his watering can and moving to the plant on the cabinet. “Usually people get all their travelling out of their system during university, or just after. The other way they do it is to wait until their mid forties and then take a sabbatical. Do you know what the difference is though, James, between those people and you?” “No”. “The difference is that by that age they’ve actually earned the time off. They’ve established themselves in their chosen field. They’ve done the hard yards. No offence, but I don’t think you’ve quite reached that category of employee yet, do you?” “No but – “ “No! I mean what are you now, James? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? You’re barely on the rung! Hell you’ve only been doing liability cases five minutes! And here you are asking if you can jet off for six months. Not great is it?” As Lynn temporarily stopped talking, the noise from the trickle of water coming out of the watering can took over the room. Why he kept the plants was a mystery. He wasn’t even old; forty going on forty five I reckoned. The most obvious explanation for his love of botany was that the plants de-stressed him during all those long hours spent working high value cases. I never found out for certain, mind. In any event, this lecture was beginning to grate. “As much as I see your point, I really need this sabbatical. As such I’m going to have to insist I take it anyway and then seek to re-establish myself when I get back. I’m sorry”. The water stopped trickling as I said this. Lynn glanced at me furtively, put the can away, and returned to his desk. “You’re going to insist?” he began. Then he held up the form I’d given him and pointed to the word request. “You’re request is exactly that, a request. “We don’t have to accept it”. “You accepted Laura Henshaw’s sabbatical request. That’s how I found out it was possible. And she’s only twenty-nine. Not far from my age”. “The only reason Laura’s request was accepted was because of an impending family bereavement. Her father was on a sick bed down in Cornwall and she wanted to care for him during his final days. Do you have a similarly important reason for going that maybe you forgot to leave off your request form?” “No I – It’s my girlfriend – we – we’ve had difficulties – we decided this was – “ Lynn spread his arms out wide and opened his mouth in the direction of the ceiling. “A girl!” he announced in an over-the-top tone. “Lord, we have our reason!” “No it’s not as simple as – “ “Can I ask you a question, James? Just out of curiosity. Does this sabbatical have anything, anything at all, to do with this football course of yours?” I looked him at blankly. I hadn’t prepared myself to have to actually fight for this damn thing. “What, you think I didn’t know about that?” he asked, getting out of his chair again. This time he moved close to me and sat up on the corner edge of the desk. “I suppose not” I replied meekly. “So what’s the plan, James? You’re going to do this course, and then once you’ve passed it, you’re going to apply for the Liverpool job and become a megastar manager? Is that the plan?” “No I – “ “No? Chelsea then? Arsenal?” I totally didn’t know what to say. “Let me give you a word of advice; people don’t just take some poxy course and then become a football manager. Unless you’re a past player or you’re secretly Bobby Charlton’s son, it just ain’t gonna happen, pal. Take my word for it”. Lynn went back to his chair and fell silent whilst he made some notes with his pen. When he spoke again, the words he said almost crushed my heart in two. “I’m going to dis-allow the sabbatical request. We can’t allow people to run off for months at a time for no good reason other than to get laid. I’m sorry, James”. “Oh come on!” I said, rising up. “I really need to – “ “That will be all, James”. “Please, just let me – “ “I said that will be all!" ------------ Outside the office was a long corridor stretching a hundred yards to the elevators. When lunchtime came that day I stood next to those elevators for almost half an hour staring into the streets below. And when Charlotte texted to ask how I was, I ran my thumb over her name and shut my eyes tight. As much as he was a dick, Lynn was right. There was no way I was actually going to be a professional football manager. I couldn’t afford to quit this job. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 2, 2011 Author Share Posted February 2, 2011 16/03/10 - I see you The late night phone calls had been sort of intriguing at first, a mystery to be solved (but not necessarily feared). Now though they were just plain irritating. I’d already long decided it was Stuart doing the calling. Now I either wanted confirmation of that fact or for the calls to stop completely so I could get more sleep. When I woke this latest occasion it was a quarter to three. This was the latest he’d ever called. As such, I didn’t worry about waking Chantelle as I clambered out of bed. We’re like chalk and cheese when it comes to sleeping. She sleeps heavy. I sleep light. No need to worry about waking her at all. And even if she did wake up. Too bad. I was still going to tell this f__ker where to go this time. There wasn’t going to be any silent breathing from James tonight, just one big f__k off rant and then goodnight. It wasn’t dark when I got downstairs because I saw straight away we’d left the living room curtains open. There’s a streetlight just in front of Chantelle’s place. If we leave the curtains open, light pours through in spades. Anyway, I closed the curtains now. Then I went over to the phone and sat up close to it. Time to get mean. Or not. The phone died just as I was about to pick up. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’ So that was it then was it? I’d missed my chance for yet another night? It didn’t make sense though. All the previous times this had happened, I’d been really slow to come downstairs because I hadn’t care that much about whether I answered it or not. Then the one time, the ONE time, I shoot downstairs to play war with the guy, it also just happens to be the one time he hangs up early. It was as if maybe his heart hadn’t been truly in it tonight and that he couldn’t be bothered with the usual amount of rings. Something like that maybe. But what were the odds though? Seriously? It suddenly occurred me there had been another first tonight, the closing of the curtains. Was there something in that? Acting on a hunch, I left the settee and went back to the window. Then I pulled one of the curtains aside ever so marginally so I could see out into the street without anyone being able to see in. Then I glanced up and down. Bingo. Wouldn’t you just Adam and Eve it? About eighty yards down the road on the other side of the street, sat in a little grey Vauxhall Corsa, facing this way, was a dark figure sat stationary in the passenger seat. That just had to be him. What a friggin' weirdo. I had no doubt what I was going to do; I was going to go down there and get him. I wouldn’t kill him or do anything daft, but there was no harm in shaking him up a little bit surely? Hopefully I’d be able to persuade him it wasn’t a good idea to come around here anymore. ‘But he’s a soldier’. Yeah well. Too bad. Who’s to say I couldn’t have been one if I’d wanted to? Besides, it’s not that big and tough to fire a gun at people is it? I keep a gym bag in the cupboard under the stairs. Inside it are a few changes of clothes in case I end up staying at Chantelle’s on a moment’s notice. In the present moment this arrangement now felt extra handy, as it meant I could grab some things to put on without wasting time going back up to the bedroom again. Once I had a t-shirt and some jeans on, I slipped out the back door and jogged down the stone steps to ground level. No sense going out the front or Stuart would see me coming and I’d lose the element of surprise. Either that or he’d have time to start the car up and bail before I could get to him. My detour would mean running three hundred yards or so down a back alley, doing a u-turn around a corner, and then doubling back another two hundreds towards the car. Once I’d negotiated the u-turn, I could see something I didn’t want to see up ahead. Stuart was already pulling the Corsa out into the road to leave. I don’t think he saw me coming. I don’t think he possibly could have. I think it was simply a case of my running out of time. There probably wasn’t much gain in him hanging around once he’d made his phone call. I’m surprised he even waited as long as he had. Maybe he was a smoker and wanted a quick cig before taking off? I don’t know. I'll tell you what though, I didn’t want to have made all this effort for nothing. Adrenalin taking over I moved out into the centre of the dark road and changed from a jog to a sprint. Such were the tight confines of the street, Stuart was in the process of performing some kind of lethargic three point turn. By the looks of it, he was intending to come my way too. But then he saw me. I couldn’t see him because his inner car light wasn’t on. He definitely saw me though. I know this because once I was within a hundred yards he began to change manoeuvre so he could leave in the opposite direction. I wasn’t going to make it. Frustrated I stopped about forty yards away completely out of breath. There was a small rock nearby. I picked this up and lobbed it for all I was worth. It bounced off Stuart’s bonnet just as he was accelerating away. Close but no cigar. Still, I had his registration now. That had to be worth something. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 3, 2011 Author Share Posted February 3, 2011 17/03/10, League Match 36 Luton Town v Kidderminster Harriers GK - Dean Brill (100 apps, 0 goals) DL - Charlie Daniels (44 apps, 5 goals) DR - Claude Gnakpa (93 apps, 2 goals) DC - George Pilkington (93 apps, 4 goals) DC - David McCracken (30 apps, 1 goal) ML - Clint Easton (21 apps, 1 goal) DMC - Kevin Nicholls (60 apps, 17 goals) MC - Keith Keane (85 apps, 11 goals) MR - Danny Cadamateri (32 apps, 11 goals) FC - Michael Bridges (29 apps, 12 goals) FC - Dean Bowditch (24 apps, 8 goals) A few ins and outs to tell you about before I move onto the game. Michael Bridges was back for his first start in about eight matches (something like that anyway). Cadamateri made way for him but remained in the team, switching to right wing in the continued absence of Taylor. Will Buckley dropped to the bench. On the other side of the pitch, Easton and Daniels did their little swop thing due to Byrne crying off tired. And finally, McCracken came back in for James who could be out for up to two weeks. After the home wins against Salisbury and Stevenage, this on paper was a great chance to keep the forward momentum going. Not only are Kidderminster a poor side but they’re not even involved in the relegation battle. Earlier in the season we hammered them 4-1 thanks to goals from Spencer, Nicholls, Cadamateri, and the since departed Lewis Guy. Surely a formality today then? It didn’t look that way at the start. In the 3rd minute Penn whipped over a free kick and Henderson got up above everyone to get his nut on it. It was a glancing header and it fizzed just past the far post with Brill beaten. That could have been another one of those self-destructive starts right there! Let off. Then we began to put our foot on the ball. Keane, Easton, and Bridges had all made confident starts. Our first shot on goal was a daisy cutter from Bridges, turning on a sixpence and smashing it a yard wide. A whole yard might sound like a lot to miss by but the manner in which he did all that in the blink of an eye still deserves page space. Incidentally I’ve never understood that phrase – turning on a sixpence. Presumably, the idea is that someone with great ability can spin so fluently that he is said to be turning his feet atop of a sixpence, i.e. a very small amount of space. Why a sixpence though? It’s no longer in use as an actual coin, right? So why not a five pence piece instead? In fact, given how difficult it would be in reality to spin on even the larger coins, why not just make it a two pound coin, or a fifty pence piece? Halfway through the half we began to turn the screw. Chances cam e and went very frequently. Bowditch missed two in the space of just three minutes. The first he screwed high and wide after stupidly letting the ball come across his body instead of hitting it left footed. The second he got on target only to be thwarted by goalkeeper Ikeme. Then Bridges got in on the act, propelling a downwards header so hard into the turf it bounced up and clipped the wrong side of the bar. Kiddie briefly rallied through Farrell, hoofing one over Brill and the bar after 29 minutes. It didn’t half us in our tracks however. This was becoming one of those games where you’d put a huge amount of brass on one particular team scoring the first goal. If there had been a Ladbrookes in operation a little further down the touchline, I might have nipped in for a dabble. Not that the odds would have been hot. 34 minutes and Clint Easton did something he probably hasn’t done for years; he beat a man. As soon as he did, Bridges and Bowditch both sprinted towards the area knowing that, in all likelihood, this miracle probably wouldn’t happen again for quite some time so it was probably best to cash in whilst the going was good. It would have been sod’s, at this point, for Easton’s cross to float our for a goal kick. However it didn’t. It went slap bang into the danger zone and this was our golden chance to break the deadline. We’d had chances up until now they just hadn’t been golden. Chances fall into two categories (at least today they do). Some are just chances, except in reality they’re just half chances. The really good chances, on the other hand, are literally painted gold. They’re the ones you can remember down the pub even ten years down the line. As a rule, you don’t tend to remember the gentle daisy cutters from twenty yards out that go a yard wide. That’s because they’re not golden chances. Anyway, in it went and Bridges strained every muscles in his neck on the edge of the six yard box to finish it off. He got to it but couldn’t get enough on it, and the attempted full-on header became a glancing header. The tragedy of this was that had Bridges missed it completely, Bowditch would have had a simple forehead tap-in at the back post. As it was, goal kick. The final chance of the half was also golden. Maybe not dark golden, if we’re going to get technical. I’d say light golden this time. But still golden. Nicholls was the guilty party, fluffing his lines from twelve yards after an ice cool diagonal pass from Daniels. Goalkeeper Ikeme had a big smile on his face after that one. He knew his team were riding their luck. The smile was still there when the half time whistle went. What nobody on the Kidderminster side knew at that point though (or indeed anyone on our side) was that Ikeme was less than an hour away from becoming a famous famous man. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chao Yang Posted February 6, 2011 Share Posted February 6, 2011 Great story so far man, read through most of it in two sittings. 4 AM right now, but completely worth it. Can't wait to read the rest~ Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 7, 2011 Author Share Posted February 7, 2011 Thanks, Chao. And sorry for ruining your sleep : ) ------------- We went straight on the attack at the start of the second half. Keane terrorized Penn into giving the ball to him and then sent Cadamateri away down the right. Cadders shaped to cross a yard from the by-line but then nutmegged Creighton and ran around him. Now he was at the by-line, and many a Luton attacker was gathering in the area in anticipation of what was to come next. Cadamateri opted for a low hard one and got it wrong. The power was there but his accuracy was off. The ball fizzed low into the arms of the keeper at the near post. And then the next we knew, it was in the net. The first I knew of it was when the crowd roared and started celebrating. Personally I'd turned the other way after seeing how poor the cross was. Brian had too. Thus, one of the guys behind the dugout had to kindly inform us as what had happened. Apparently, and as far as he could tell from being so far away, the ball had gone into Ikeme's arms only to bounce around between his legs and deflect itself over the line. It had been an own goal, in other words. A horrible error. Still, you take whatever luck you can get in this business. We'd needed a goal and we had it. One way or the other. Our good fortune though was Ikeme's despair, and credit to Keane for taking the time to remember that. Not every professional in the modern game would have gone up to the despondent keeper in the aftermath, slapped his cheek a few times, and cackled manically in his face. A commendable effort that to try and make him see the funny side of the situation. Well done, Keane. So what did Kidderminster have in response? Not a lot would be the answer. The intensity of their passing picked up for a few minutes after the goal but they didn’t get into the area or anything. This was the most comfortable I’d felt leading 1-0 for quite some time. Maybe since Weston Super Mare came here in fact As if to legitimize my feelings, chances two and three of the second half also went to us. They were almost scored by our players too. First Bridges forced a fingertip wide after a cross from Easton. Then after a fine passing move, Bowditch scuffed one low towards goal that Ikeme probably should have held on to. Instead it slipped loose and Bridges half volleyed it over when it was easier to score. The incident that happened in the 66th minute was quite simply freakish. Daniels crossed in from deep on the left and Bowditch stole a march on the defender. Ikeme met the dipping ball at exactly the same time as the striker and a collision occurred. Bowditch came out of this better, I guess, because the ball squirmed behind Ikeme towards the line. He and the keeper were tangled up on the ground by this stage, so defender Stevens hurried in from the side and tried to hack the ball off the line. Now here’s the freaky bit. Instead of just hump it out to touch, Stevens tried to attempt the more difficult maneuver of wrapping his foot around the ball sufficiently enough to thrash it downfield, hence saving the throw. Tragically he didn’t get enough height on the ball. It went straight into the back of the downed Ikeme. Then he bounced back past Stevens and across the goal line. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Actually I did. I laughed. Ikeme had scored his second own goal in twenty minutes. The crowd went bananas and Keane went over to congratulate the goal scorer again - now back on his feet and looking shell-shocked. He might have been more shell-shocked at the realization Keane was trotting over again than for the actual goal, to be honest. I don't know. Content the game was probably up, I made my subs. On came Buckley for Bridges and Niven for Keane. The visitors responded by bringing on Sykes, Brittain, and Richards. Interestingly they left Ikeme on the pitch. I guess they wanted to see if he could get his hat trick. I was just pondering what odds I would have got down the bookies for a goalkeeper scoring two own goals when Easton went close with a volley from out wide. There wasn’t long left now and the game had become a bit dull. A Kidderminster goal out of nothing might have generated some late butterflies but they just didn’t look like getting it. All their shots were long range, all their corners gobbled up by Brill (or headed away). “Do you think Cyril’s making a note of today in case this comes up in a death match question?” Brian asked. “I’m more interested in how Rushden are doing, to be frank. Why don’t you get that Blackberry of yours out and look it up?” “I can’t. Battery went just before half time. I forgot to charge it up last night”. “Wow, shrewd investment that, Brian. Shrewd investment”. ----------- FULL TIME (att - 4338) Luton Town 2 (Ikeme o.g 46, 66) Kidderminster Harriers 0 --------- (other results) Burton 2-1 AFC Wimbledon Salisbury 2-0 Rushden St Albans 3-3 Stevenage ----------- (table after we've completed 36/46 games) 1 - Grays (77) 2 - Luton (76) 3 - Rushden (75) 4 - York (68) 5 - Oxford (61) 6 - Salisbury (60) Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
gavrenwick Posted February 7, 2011 Share Posted February 7, 2011 More like Ikeme 2 - 0 Kidderminster! Still enjoying this tale Scottlee. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
mark wilson27 Posted February 7, 2011 Share Posted February 7, 2011 Excellent story Sir, fingers crossed for promotion mate Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
salkster2102 Posted February 8, 2011 Share Posted February 8, 2011 Still a great read as always Scott. You looking forward to Halifax's cup final on the 19th? Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 8, 2011 Author Share Posted February 8, 2011 Thanks you three. Salk, I am looking forward to it indeed ------------ 18/03/10 - Voyage of the Darren Treader With Fred off work today, me and Darren slipped out onto the pitch at lunch to have a quick kick around. I’ve got to hand it to Fred, the pitch is looking great at the moment given that it’s March, and also given the sheer volume of games we’ve played this season. Fred might be best known locally for his win in the 1983 Football League Penalty Spot of the Year Competition, but in years to come I hope he’s also remembered for his tireless work with the pitch as a whole. “I’ve got something to tell you” Darren announced, passing to me from the halfway line. “Oh here we go. Go on then. What is it?” “I’m going on holiday. To Peru”. Receiving the ball and trapping it felt good to me. My legs in general felt good at the moment. I was delighted with the way they'd stood up to all they abuse they took in the five a side. “That doesn’t sound like your kind of scene” I replied. Using the ‘bad leg’ I curled a thirty-yard ball back to him. “Maybe not, but I’m still going. My friend Harry from school came up with it when we were drunk one night and the idea just kind of stuck around and started gradually evolving on us. We’re not just going for a week or two either. We’re going for two to three months”. “Why would you want to go to Peru for that amount of time?” “Hiking, adventuring, mountain climbing, Peruvian women. Mainly the women, but the other stuff sounds good too. We’re not just going to Peru anyway. Peru is the main bit, the bit we’re going to plan out with a fine toothcomb. We’re only going to be there a month though. After that we’re going to spend another month or two exploring the rest of South America”. “Which other places?” “I don’t know, and we won’t know until we’ve got to Peru. We’re going to live off our wits, talk to the people we meet, find out where the best places to go are, and then go. Who knows where we might end up going? Brazil, the Amazon, Chile, Argentina, anything’s possible. That second half of the holiday is entirely dependant on money though. If we’ve got a lot of money left after Peru we might go through quite a bit of South America. On the other hand, if we’re almost broke after Peru, we might just head to a Brazilian beach for a week or something. I don’t know. We’ll see”. I didn’t know which part of his speech reminded me of Charlotte more, the listing of South American tourist spots or simply talk of an extended sabbatical. Trapping the ball for a moment instead of playing it first time, my eyes wandered to the canteen window at the back of the stand. A few faces were up there looking out at us. I couldn’t see who they were. Caroline maybe? Hard to tell. “I think there’s one important thing you’ve forgotten to take into account” I said, flicking the ball up and volleying it high in the air. “Like what?” “Like Erica. As if she’s going to authorise a two to three month vacation!” “She already has”. “What?!” “Look dude, when it comes to women like Erica, you’ve just got to have that certain je-ne-se-qua when you approach them. She might act tough, but deep down, she’s still a woman, you know what I’m saying?” Beneath his perfectly bleached blonde hair, he grinned. Knowing how difficult it would be for him to maintain that look in the jungles of South America, I grinned back. “It’s not all good news. After the first three weeks I’m away I stop getting paid. Oh, and before you ask, some guy Brad knows in The Supporter’s Trust is going to be updating the website whilst I’m gone. He won’t be working here though; he says he’ll do all the necessaries at home”. “When you going?” “Just after the last home game of the season. I’ll miss the FA Trophy final if we get there but I can live with that”. “Okay”. A look at my watch told me it was later than I thought. The next time Darren passed the ball to me, I caught it up high and began to walk back towards the tunnel. Taking the hint, Darren began a slow jog and eventually caught up to me. “Sorry I should have said when we get there” he remarked. “Stevenage won’t beat us by two goals will they?” “Normally no, probably not. We lost by two at Macclesfield though and Stevenage are better than Macclesfield. Do you think if I dye my hair blonde and give Erica a cheeky wink she’ll give me a transfer budget, were I then to ask her for one? Say, three mil?” “No”. “I think we’ll sneak through to the final. Touch and go, but I think we’ll sneak through”. 'I wonder if she'd give us some money if HE asked for it' Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 11, 2011 Author Share Posted February 11, 2011 19/03/10 - Luton Town boy Today some of the Luton players met up with Prairie Dog Peterson to record the Luton Town single. It was a small studio, the cheapest Bob could find in the Yellow Pages. It was called Bates Musical Recording Studios and was based down a back alley just off the town centre. Even though it was agreed I didn’t have to sing on the record myself, I popped down in the afternoon to see how things were going. It hadn’t taken much arm-twisting to get Prairie Dog on the project. In a nutshell he was willing to write the song, record it in one day, and do both completely free of charge. What else was there to discuss? As an added bonus, he’d even promised to stay sober throughout. As for the Luton players, some had volunteered their free time and some hadn’t. We had enough lungs to allow the thing go ahead; that was the main thing. Once I got there I immediately understood why the place was so cheap to hire. There was only one actual recording room inside, and off to the side of it, a second room separated from the first by a glass window. The second room contained all the switchboards and fancy equipment used to edit the music together. Sat behind the gigantic console was a stocky man in his early thirties, the same guy who’d been able to buzz me through the front door without having to get off his chair. Before I could even introduce myself, I heard what sounded like an argument coming from the larger room. Pushing my way through the door, I saw Prairie being hounded by several of the Luton boys. “Boss!” exclaimed Richie Byrne. The others were Keane, James, Cadamateri, Brill, and Pilkington. “What’s going on here?” I asked. “A disaster is what’s going on” said Keane. “This song we’re being asked to sing is rubbish! We came here to do a football anthem, not some cr_ppy hillbilly s__t. To make it worse, every time we try and sing it, this idiot keeps interrupting to tell us we’re doing it wrong”. “Son, music is never made in just one take” Prairie explained, spitting out to the side whatever it was he’d been chewing. As always he was dressed in his cowboy garb. Head to toe. “Where did you get this guy anyway?” Keane persisted. “He looks like he just walked out the nearest fancy dress shop”. “You know, son, I’m starting to think this studio isn’t big enough for the both of us”. Casually, Prairie moved his right hand down to the side of his six-shooter. Then he began loosening his fingers like a guitar playing about to start strumming. Keane took a moment to observe this and then stepped up close to Prarire’s chest. “Bring it, granddad!” “Okay, okay that’s enough!” I shouted, pushing into the middle of them. “Prairie, I see where you’re coming from but these guys aren’t trained musicians. They need a bit less criticism and a bit more encouragement when they mess up. Keith, and this goes for the rest of you too, we’ve only got this studio for one afternoon. We need to get the song in the can today. So please can we have less complaining and more singing? If you don’t like the song then tough”. Everyone thankfully seemed to take this little speech onboard. Prairie guided me back into the console room for the next take and the Luton players got into their positions behind the microphones. I could see through the glass the players were all spaced out into different parts of the room. Keane, Cadamateri, Brill, and James were stood as a quartet over on the left. Hanging down from the ceiling in front of their faces was a four-way microphone thing they could presumably all sing into at the same time. In the centre of the room stood George Pilkington. He had his own microphone all to himself, one of those normal ones that rest on the floor. To his left was Brill, also with his own microphone. And that completed the line-up. “And – here – we - go!” said the producer once everyone had put their thumbs up to indicate they were ready. The moment the backing music kicked in, I quickly understood why Keith had referred to it as hillbilly s__t. Whatever else this was, it was distinctly country and western. In fact I felt fairly sure I’d heard it before somewhere, maybe even at The Haunted Cow. A few seconds later, the quartet began singing. They were each reading off a sheet of paper as they went. ‘I came here west into Luton Town - I smashed that ball all around the ground - cos I’mmmmm just - a rockin Luton Town boy!’ 'Yeeee-haw!' George Pilkington followed up with (a big grin on his face). Then it was back to the quartet for the next line. ‘From Seattle to Santa Fe – It’s touchdown Luton all the way! – cos it’s just - a rockin’ Luton Town world!’ 'Yeeee-haw!' cried Pilkington again. 'My daddy came west and joined the team - he was a rootin' tootin' goal machine - cos heeee was just - a rockin' Luton Town boy!' 'Owww-weee!' Dean Brill thew into the mix. This last bit didn’t seem to please Prairie. “No! Stop!” he cried, pushing through into the recording room. The music ground to a halt and all the players glared at him, especially Brill because that was whom his immediate focus seemed to be on. “You’re not doing it right. How many times? It’s oww-weeee! You need to lean back more and – “ “Okay that’s it, granddad!” Keane interrupted. “I quit. I’ve had enough of this”. “Yeah me too!” said Byrne. “And what’s with that touchdown line? You do know this is English football, right?” "I'm quitting too!" Brill announced before Prairie could answer. One by one the rest of them followed suit. Barely a minute later and it was just me and Prairie stood facing each other in the middle of the studio floor. "I'm sorry Prairie but I think we're going to have to scrap the whole thing. It's just not working out". "That's okay, son" he said solemnly,looking down at his cowboy boots. I suddenly felt really sorry for him. His moustache was twitching and he looked really hurt and downbeat. "Look, why don't you meet me at The Haunted Cow later tonight?" I asked him. "I'll get us a few whiskies on me. What do you say?" That had the desired effect. Prairie studied me for a moment and then broke out into a smile. "Son, you really are a pilgram. I accept!" "Cool. I'll see you later on then. Go on, you get going. I'd better sort payment out with the studio guy". "Okay" he said, moving towards the door. "Oh, and bring Channabelle". "I will. Oh, one more thing". "What's that, son?" "That gun of yours isn't really real is it?" "No" he grinned. "But if some folk think it might be, all the better". Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Icepick Posted February 15, 2011 Share Posted February 15, 2011 Oh no. The end. I feared this... For the past 2 months, I've been reading this thrilling story. I'm sad that, from now on, I'll have to check for updates instead of knowing there's a lot more to read! I take a deep bow for you, Scott. Fantastic read. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 15, 2011 Author Share Posted February 15, 2011 Hey Icepick. Thanks for reading all that, and sorry you had to come to the end. Yeah it'll probably feel like a much slower read from now on. Thanks again -------- 20/03/10 - A crushing rejection A trip to Wembley was on offer today. All we had to do was not lose away to Stevenage by more than one goal. Sounds perfectly doable right? Yep, that’s what I thought. The weather in the morning was unusually hot for mid-March. The players and staff all boarded the team coach just after 1pm in preparation for the short journey east to Broadball Way. I was with them, having already ‘sight-seen’ Stevenage and possessing no wish to do it a second time. “Have a look at the fifth to last page” Brian said, passing me a copy of The Bedfordshire Bulletin. We’d barely left the Kenilworth car park by this point. “Jesus, let a man get his seat-belt on why don’t you!” Eventually I did as asked and began to read. ROYAL HOSPITALIZED AFTER FREAK TRAINING GROUND ACCIDENT. Gloucester Rugby Club trainee Henry Rhodes-Chatto was ruled out of the game for up to a year yesterday after breaking two bones in his right ankle. The rookie player, who has been generating much publicity for the Aviva Premiership club, despite having yet to make a start, was immediately rushed to Gloucestershire Royal Hospital by ambulance. He now awaits a decision on whether reconstructive surgery will be required on his posterior inferior ligament. The accident occurred at Gloucester’s training ground during a practice session. Rhodes-Chatto, who registered himself with the club only a fortnight ago, had been sat on the grass watching from the sidelines when a scrum machine rolled over his ankle. Ironically the reason Rhodes-Chatto was watching and not taking part was because he'd been recovering from a severe injury to his other leg, sustained whilst training with Luton Town Football Club just two months ago. The leg was still plastered up prior to yesterday's accident, although Mr Rhodes-Chatto did thankfully manage to twist that one out of the way before it too could fall victim to the roller. Players at the club were understandably distraught last night, particularly the six who had been pushing the scrum machine. Coach Brian Redpath had nothing but good things to say about the injured party - “He was a nice lad, very polite, very keen. He didn’t have to turn up to training so early on in his recovery from the broken leg. That he did just points to the type of attitude the kid had. It’s a shame we never got the chance to see him play”. There are those however who were not so complimentary, or even remorseful. Many people both in and outside the club expressed great scepticism when the nineteen year old was allowed to join. Rhodes-Chatto is unquestionably two things; a man with no experience or references in the game of rugby, and someone who is seventeenth in line to the throne of England. Some believe he was signed purely as a marketing tool. In any event, the young royal hinted he might not return to Gloucester once he has fully recovered. “I’m no longer sure rugby is the game for me” he said, speaking from his hospital bed. “It’s a lot more physical from close up than it looks on the television. I’m thinking of going into ice hockey once I’m better. I think I’d be better suited to that”. I closed the paper and passed it back. “Doesn’t get much luck that kid does he?” I remarked. “Might not be luck”. “What do you mean?” “Well, that’s twice now he’s been taken out of play before he’s even kicked a ball. Reading that article got me thinking that maybe he’s getting deliberately taken out because nobody wants him in their team”. I shrugged and kept my eyes on the seat in front. I didn’t really want to be talking about this, truth be told. “Keane was the one who broke Henry’s leg when he was our player” I replied. “Now Keane might not be my cup of tea on a personal level but he’s still a professional. He wouldn’t have done that tackle deliberately”. “Are you sure about that?!” Brian exclaimed, and now I could tell out of the corner of my eye he was looking at me. “The Keane I know would definitely be capable of something like that. The man’s a thug!” Brian winced at the end of that sentence, suddenly conscious as he might be speaking too loudly. He needn’t have worried though. The noise from the coach and all the players talking over each other more than masked our conversation. “Innocent until proven guilty” I said diplomatically, almost hating myself for it. “You could never prove something like that so there’s no point even thinking about it. “Ah, you and your law speak. Yeah I suppose you're right”. Seemingly satisfied for now, Brian turned back to the window and the topic died. This left me to silently ponder the likely turn of events that had led to Henry’s latest stint in hospital. Had he suffered a genuine accident this time, or had history repeated itself? I was probably going to put my money on the latter. I mean seriously, what are the odds someone would just happen to roll over him with the scrum machine? Has that ever happened before? The article hadn't said. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 16, 2011 Author Share Posted February 16, 2011 20/03/10, FA Trophy Semi Final Second Leg Stevenage Borough v Luton Town Gk – Dean Brill (101 apps, 0 goals) DL – Richie Byrne (34 apps, 1 goal) DR – Claude Gnakpa (94 apps, 2 goals) DC – George Pilkington (94 apps, 4 goals) DC – David McCracken (31 apps, 1 goal) DMC – Kevin Nicholls (61 apps, 17 goals) MC – Derek Niven (29 apps, 2 goals) ML – Clint Easton (22 apps, 1 goal) MR – Danny Cadamateri (33 apps, 11 goals) FC – Michael Bridges (30 apps, 12 goals) FC – Dean Bowditch (25 apps, 8 goals) I picked a mostly strong side but I was wary of our trip to Grays in four days time. As a result, I decided to rest Daniels and Keane, two of my strongest performing players throughout the season. If we got into trouble today I could always bring them on in the second half, or for extra time. Deputizing would be the usual suspects Easton and Niven. The only other notable absentee was Tony James, missing his second game in a row through injury. In front of an excitable crowd, Bridges and Bowditch got us under way kicking towards the Buildbase Stand. They didn’t waste time losing the ball and Stevenage were on the charge. Just as I’d suspected, it looked like they were intent on hitting us early. They were firing first time passes back and forth across the park and pushing the full backs forward. MacMahon fizzed one low into Brill’s arms in the 3rd minute before Bostwick then began his customary middle-of-the-park domination to set up a chance for Morrison. The shaven haired striker tried to side-step McCracken on the penalty spot but the Scot got a foot in and the ball popped out to Boylan. From here Morrison’s strike partner tried to curl one into the top corner but got it wrong by about a foot and a half in elevation. From my place on the touchline I felt decidedly uncomfortable. The more I silently tried to make a case for Stevenage winning the tie from here, the more convincing my argument became. Maybe it was best I stopped thinking about it and returned to the moment? Our problem was we seemed to be passing it around negatively without making any forward inroads. It was as if every time we got the ball, all we wanted to do was try waste another minute before Stevenage could get the ball back. Ridiculous. I thought back again to Willock’s goal in the fourth minute of stoppage time in the first game. Was it going to prove crucial? 19 minutes and a huge body blow. To cut to the punch, the home side’s pressure finally told. Ashton was the architect, taking advantage of some slack attempts at tackling to whip one in from the touchline. Boylan get the merest of touches with his forehead and the ball flew into the far top corner. Brill bared moved. Broadhall Way was alive. The goal tune was on and the bench were off their feet. As a collective they were punching the air and urging their players back to the touchline to pick up the pace again. It was only 3-2 to us on aggregate now with a whopping 71 minutes still to play. We’d gone from coasting along at 3-0 up to suddenly being in a position where one more goal would likely render us underdogs for the remainder. Having said that, the goal woke us up to an extent. Instead of playing like a team I completely didn’t recognise, we began looking something like old selves again. Easton’s misfired cross in the 22nd minute almost found the top corner. Then Bridges swirled one over from distance when he should have done better. It wasn’t goal threatening stuff but it was ‘threatening to become threatening stuff’, if that makes sense. Conversely, Borough almost made it two just prior to the half hour mark. Murray’s chip forwards was headed up in the air by Pilkington and when the ball came down again it was volleyed by Ashton. The volley was inaccurate but bounced twice across the penalty area in a diagonal direction. Morrison stole in at the back post and had a chance to shoot from an angle. Boom. Against the side netting. He almost burst it with the power he put on that. In the final five minutes of the half the temperature seemed to rise. Both teams were looking to score now and the result was plenty of blood and guts football all over the park. In a short space of time Bostwick, Boylan, and Easton all picked up yellows. Then in the 41st minute Nicholls went on a madcap charge through the centre of midfield as Oliver tried to pull his shirt and yank him back. Our bench was screaming for a foul but Nicholls held him off and kept going. Then he fed Bowditch with a threaded through ball. Henry was goal-side of Bowditch, but the striker laid it diagonally backwards to Niven rather than shoot. Niven took one touch to steady himself on the edge of the box before rifling it left-footed into the bottom right hand corner of the net. Fantastic goal. We all leapt out onto the sidelines and hugged each other (the esteemed members of the bench that is). Niven briefly ran around impersonating an aeroplane and then got mobbed by his colleagues. The Luton fans were going nuts over on the far side too. The trip to Wembley was now firmly back on. The score was 4-2 to us on aggregate. In first half stoppage time we almost made it 5-2. A distraught Stevenage gave Cadamateri all the time in the world to dance down the right and then cut inside Ancelet. The ball into the middle was behind Bridges but Nicholls swiped at it on the run. He ended up missing by just a foot to the left with the goalkeeper stranded. And that was the last action of the half. As Billie Jean came on the tannoy, I headed off to the dressing room feeling full of vitality. 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ScottleeSV Posted February 17, 2011 Author Share Posted February 17, 2011 After a quick pit-stop in the toilet, I walked into the dressing room with a steely look on my face. “Don’t get complacent!” I told them all. Then I walked out again. “That’s it?” Brian accosted me, as we headed back out for the second half. “Yeah. I read this thing a few days ago that says you shouldn’t overburden your team with too much information at half time. I’m giving it a try”. “Right”. Amazingly, we began the second period slightly the better side. There were three shots on goal in the opening five minutes and we had two of them. One, from Cadamateri, clipped the crossbar on its way over. The others, from Niven on our side and Murray on theirs, went well over. I noticed during a break in play that one of the Stevenage fans not far from the dugouts was holding aloft a huge grey cardboard cut-out of the FA Cup. He was only a lad of about twelve. I felt like calling out and telling him he had the wrong competition but I didn’t want to incite the crowd. I’m already dreading having to go back to Grays next week. Things looked relatively comfortable for a while but eventually the home side came out of the doldrums and began to tick again. There was about half an hour left by this point and still ample time remaining to grab two goals (if they could get them). In the 61st minute Morrison showed his dribbling skills on the edge of the box before laying one across to Boylan. The striker let the ball come across his body before hammering right-footed. Brill parried into the ground and Morrison went in for the rebound. So did McCracken. Result? Morrison was put off by McCracken and looped it over the bar with his knee. With the tide just starting to turn again, I made changes. On came Daniels for Easton and Keane for Nicholls. I can’t ever remember making two such ‘strong’ substitutions. It certainly rattled Stevenage for a few minutes; who had become used to the non-pace of Easton and now had a flying wing wizard to deal with. I imagine they’d also hoped they wouldn’t see Keane today either. A corner in the 67th minute was only just headed over Pilkington. Then two minutes later some strong work by Daniels resulted in a deflection off Henry that deceived the keeper and only just went wide. I thought we were getting on top again, but you just can’t think that, not in a game like this. These two teams are just too evenly matched when we play them away. Willock and Jelley came on with twenty to play. The bombardment was coming. It was now or never for the home side. With several spontaneous roars the crowd urged them forwards, and forwards they came. Bostwick went on dribbles, Morrison went up for headers, Willock made darting runs. They were all at it. Sensing the window of opportunity for extending the lead had probably expired meanwhile; our lot began to retreat backwards again. The best chance for a second Stevenage goal fell to Morrison, perhaps as you would expect. Murray sold Gnakpa a dummy and then chipped a little ball onto the striker’s favourite right foot. He volleyed first time but Brill reacted unbelievably to not only keep it out but also parry it back into play. That was an incredibly good example of strong hands. Morrison, hands on head in the aftermath, just couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t his tie. Gradually the minutes ticked down. It wasn’t always pretty but we just about managed to keep our heads above water. As stoppage time approached, I replaced Bridges with Spencer, just to slow matters down even further. In the 92nd minute, when Boylan mistimed a header down into the ground and Brill collected with ease, I knew that was definitely it. They weren’t going to score two goals from here. We’d done it. We were through. When the final whistle blew I thought it appropriate to do two things. Firstly, I walked onto the pitch to congratulate the players. It’s been a long road to Wembley in this competition and we’ve stuck at it like glue. We’ve come through tough ties against Weston Super Mare, Stalybridge, Oxford, Grays, and now Stevenage. The second thing I did was stay very careful not to start swinging my arms about going wild. We were on another opponent’s ground and I wanted to stay respectful. I shook a few fans and gently slapped some backs but that was about it, and I certainly wasn’t going to permit singing and shouting in the changing rooms later on. One thing I did do was encourage a collective walk over to the away fans. Those fans deserved the attention. In the other semi final Rushden and Diamonds beat Southport 3- 2 to win 4-3 overall. Thus, for the second time this season we will play Rushden in a cup final. Far more notable that this result was the one from Aggborough in today’s league game. Incredibly Grays lost again on the road, this time 3-2. This loss blows the title race wide open again. I expected to have drifted four points behind again after today. Are the Essex club beginning to wilt, one wonders? ------------- FINAL SCORE (att - 2904) Stevenage Borough 1 (Boylan 19) Luton Town 1 (Niven 41) [Luton win 4-2 on aggregate] -------------- (other results) FA Trophy Rushden 3-2 Southport (Rushden win 4-3 on aggregate) League Burton 1-1 Kettering Crawley 2-1 St Albans Ebbsfleet 1-3 Cambridge Kidderminster 3-2 Grays Mansfield 0-1 Salisbury Northwich 0-1 Macclesfield Oxford 2-0 AFC Wimbledon Woking 3-1 Weymouth Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
salkster2102 Posted February 18, 2011 Share Posted February 18, 2011 Still enjoying the read as always Scott. What will the seating arrangements be like tomorrow? Will our 20 away fans be sitting with the Halifax fans? Oh and I expect nothing but a spanking from Halifax tomorrow Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 18, 2011 Author Share Posted February 18, 2011 There won't be segregation for just twenty. We don't bother segregating unless it's something like 200 minimum that we're expecting. In this case, not even close. I'm relatively sure we'll win but I hope you enjoy the day out anyway. --------- 22/03/10 - When I'm 64 I was working in my private office today when I found an E-mail from Glynn that was nearly two hours old. He said he had good news about the song project and wanted to share with me in person. Whenever I had a spare moment, just knock on his door, it said. I’d assumed the project was dead and buried after the Prairie fiasco. No doubt Glynn had scoured all the dirty recesses of the Luton music scene and found some other loser willing to do a song with us (free of charge of course). Knowing Glynn it would be some young punk with a medallion around his neck claiming to be the future of rap, or maybe some naff four-piece rock band bored of playing cover versions in local pubs. Feeling sceptical I stopped what I was doing and headed downstairs. I figured I might as well get this over and done with straight away. Glynn’s office appeared to be empty when I knocked on the door but I could hear his voice further along the corridor. It sounded like it was coming from the communal offices. Sure enough, when I opened that door, there he was. The offices were dark. A projector was bouncing an image against the whiteboard next to my desk and Glynn was stood next to it clutching a remote control. In the dim light I could just about make out the images of Darren, Brenda, Nicky, and Caroline sat at their desks watching on. “Ah James” said Glynn. “I’m doing a presentation but I’m almost finished. If you wait there I’ll be with you in just a moment”. “Okay”. I rested my back against the wall next to the door. It was at this moment I finally looked more closely at the image on the whiteboard. It looked like a couple of dead bodies lying under a quilt. ‘What the hell?’ “Moira and Jack Hayes from Godalming” Glynn continued. “Both in their seventies and both found dead in their living room early this January. In short, they froze to death. On the same weekend no less. It took neighbours four days to discover the bodies. Pay close attention to the maggots nestled in Moira’s eyelashes there. Didn’t waste time, did they?” Glynn clicked his remote and a new picture came up. This one showed a picture of what looked like the white cliffs of Dover. “Now take a look at these rather forebodingly large cliff faces. In 2008, Bobby Pickering threw himself off and got completely splattered on the rocks below. Death was, of course, instantaneous. Police were alerted to the incident when Bobby’s walking cane washed up on a nearby beach. It was later discovered Bobby had only decided to commit suicide half an hour after an argument with his electricity provider”. In relatively rapid succession, Glynn clicked through some more images without speaking. One was a shot of a severed leg lying under some seaweed. Another showed a young guy on a beach proudly holding up the walking cane as if he’d just caught Jaws with his fishing rod. Idiot. Perhaps most disturbing was the picture that showed a large crab scuttling around with a pair of dirty dentures in its pincers. “Still” Glynn went on, bringing up the next image. “You guys can all avoid this kind of fate by joining the new Luton Town pension scheme!” The new image, I should probably point out, was of Nicholls, Buckley, and Cadamateri celebrating a goal together. Written across the middle were the words – ‘Luton Town Pension Scheme’ - in red Times New Roman. Glynn had obviously put some work into that. “So, has anybody got any questions?” Glynn turned the projector off and switched the lights back on. Nobody had their hand up wanting to ask anything though. Darren had a small grin on his face but he was the exception rather than the rule. Caroline was wearing a blank expression; she looked a bit disturbed. Nicky definitely look disturbed. In fact it wouldn’t be stretching it to say she looked horrified. As for Brenda, well, the look on her face is simply indescribable. Suffice to say it didn’t look to me like she was intending to sign onto the scheme anytime soon. Beat Glynn up, maybe. Sign onto the scheme, no. “Well, I’ve left five starter packs on James’ desk there. You can guys can all run your eyes over it and get back to me. James, I need to speak to you about – “ “The song, yeah, that’s why I came down”. “My office for a minute then?” “Sure”. I came off the wall and opened the door for Glynn to walk through. Then I followed him out. Moments later we were sat in his office just down the corridor. Glynn’s office is the first room you come to once you go past reception. “I’ve got someone new to write and produce the song” he beamed. “Go on then” I sighed. “Which Joe nobody have you managed to get for us?" “Paul McCartney”. “Come again?” “Paul McCartney” Like I was going to believe that! Glynn though was staring at me with this big Cheshire cat grin. He had to be kidding, surely? “Come off it, Glynn”. “No seriously. Look, it turns out one of the directors knows someone who knows someone else who knows McCartney. Anyway, to cut a long story short, a favour has been called in and McCartney’s agreed to pick up the pieces and get the job done. I’m deadly serious too! He’s coming down here to meet you very soon. We don’t have an exact date yet but I’ll let you know as soon as I do. Exciting eh? We’re actually going to have to a professional world class song writer!” “You’re really serious?” “Yep”. Unbelievable. What a turn up. Still not fully believing it (I’d believe it only when I saw the old Beatle with my own eyes), I got up off my seat and excused myself with a friendly nod of the head. “Oh, before you go. James?” “Yeah?" “Don’t suppose you want to join the new pension scheme?” “That was some presentation you made there”. “Yeah, I wanted to show them the perils of not having cover in place”. “By showing them pictures of dead people?” Glynn grinned. “Kept them awake didn’t it? Anyway, much better than showing them a bunch of pie charts, if you ask me. In my experience that just puts people to sleep”. “Yeah well I think I’ll pass Glynn. Cheers anyway”. “Okay. If you change your mind, let me know”. “I will”. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Welwyn Posted February 18, 2011 Share Posted February 18, 2011 Wow, Paul McCartney! Biggest celebrity fan we have is Cerys Matthews! Would still rather wake up next to her than him though! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chao Yang Posted February 21, 2011 Share Posted February 21, 2011 Great read still~ Can't wait to read how the Beatle is gonna add to the story. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 21, 2011 Author Share Posted February 21, 2011 Who knows? Maybe Glynn is interested in getting Paul into the team - bums on seats and all that jazz ---------- 23/03/10 - Eugene I had a visitor to the offices today, name of Eugene Waldon. He didn’t have an appointment he just showed up. I didn’t recognise the name at first. Then when Brenda told me he was a football agent I vaguely remembered I’d spoken to someone called Eugene on the phone about a month ago. 'Do you drink coke? I like to - ' On that occasion those had been his final words as I’d hung up. Very bizarre. “Well?” said Brenda, phone still to her ear. “He’s outside in the car park. Do you want me to let him in or book him in?” “Let him in. Then show him up to my private office, if you would”. “Okay”. I could have let him in myself but this way we looked a more professional operation. For all I knew this Eugene character was the next big football agent. Unlikely but you never know. When Brenda showed him in to see me however, my first impressions weren’t great. It was then I remembered all the little nuances from during our phone call, for example his nervousness and the way that he stutters. He was a stocky lad. Built like lard. Dark hair. He had strange bags under his eyes, as if he was the sort to stay up all night playing nerdy online games. He also wore a business suit a couple of sizes too big for him. It reminded me a bit of those teenagers you see turn up for their first job interview looking completely out of their comfort zone. “Eugene Waldon” he announced, shaking my hand. It wasn’t a firm shake. “James Martin. But then you know that. So what can I do for you today, Eugene?” “Well, I just came to talk to you about new players. Remember our chat on the phone?” “I do”. “Well, I thought today you could tell me what sort of p-p-players you’d like me to try and find for you. Then I’ll go away, try find some, then come back and show you what I’ve found. Or who I’ve found, I should say”. Not exactly normal protocol but I wasn’t about to turn it down, unless of course he was planning to charge me for the search. “I don’t have to pay for the initial search do I?” “No. Well, I wouldn’t say no to a can of coke as payment if you had one. I like coke”. ‘Ah, there’s that coke thing again’. We sat in silence for a moment. I rocked back and forth on my chair, careful not to lose my balance. Eugene meanwhile sat with his hands on lap looking tense. This was all wrong. Agents are supposed to be all talky, possess the gift of the gab and so forth. The really good ones can persuade you to buy foreigners you’ve never even seen play before on wages you can’t afford. This guy in front of me right now didn’t even look capable of selling me a packet of smarties. In fact Eugene could have been sat there with Fernando Torres on one side and Thierry Henry on the other. He could have possessed the authority from their respective clubs and players to pass them on free of charge and with a willingness on their part to play for no pay, and I still don’t think I would have been convinced it was the best deal for Luton. That’s how unconvincing Eugene appeared. “Can I ask you a question, Eugene?” “Sure”. “What clubs have you worked with recently?” “What do you mean?” “What do I mean? Well, every agent has clubs that he or she have worked with more than others. What are yours? What clubs would you say have given you your finest hours? So far in your career anyway". “Oh errr. Man Utd. Liverpool. Stoke. Errrm, Arsenal”. I stopped rocking and picked up my phone. Then I told Brenda to come up to my office. Then I turned my attention back to Eugene. “Okay Eugene, I tell you what, I’m going to have a good hard think about what sort of players I want to sign this summer. In the meantime, I want you to go away and wait for my call. Is that okay? I think I told you this during our phone call but you came here anyway. No matter. It's been nice to meet in person. However, I'm not yet ready to discuss summer plans". “Err sure”. “Good” We rose and shook hands. Shortly thereafter, Brenda appeared and led the guy away. Once he'd gone I got on the phone again and called Tony Pulis at Stoke City. I’ve had some dealings with Pulis before. Out of the all clubs Eugene said he’d worked with, Stoke is the only one I have the direct number for the manager (I haven’t quite made it into the circles of Wenger and Fergie yet). “Hey James, what can I do for you?” “Just a quick question. Have you ever worked with a football agent called Eugene Waldon?” “Name doesn’t ring a bell. Why?” “I spoke to the guy today and he says Stoke are one of the clubs he’s worked with the most” “Okay, I tell you what, just hold your horses for a moment there. I’ll call you back in a minute”. “Okay”. Pulis rang off and I started doing the chair-rocking thing again. I almost collapsed and banged my head this time though so I gave that up and went to stare out the window. Fred was going over the pitch with his roller. Slow those rollers. It’s probably very difficult to not get out of the way of them before getting your legs run over. Difficult but not impossible? “James?” Pulis began the second call with. “Yup”. “I’ve done the necessary checking. We keep very accurate records here, and I can tell you with great assurance, nobody called Eugene Waldon has ever worked with us”. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
FlownCanary Posted February 22, 2011 Share Posted February 22, 2011 Useless agent lol. I was right about the song though! Keep it up man, I still love this story Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 22, 2011 Author Share Posted February 22, 2011 Thanks Canary ------------- 24/03/10 - Special ops Our crunch game with Grays was to be another evening affair. Before that I held light training at Kenilworth Road followed by an hour-long tactics class in the changing rooms. I wanted to give us the best possible chance of returning from Essex with a result. Halfway through Brian explaining the potential for a 2.7.1 formation he’d learnt at Cambridge, Brenda knocked and came in. Apparently Dilic was in the car park and wanted to see me. “Shall I just carry on whilst you’re gone?” Brian asked. “No, let’s use the opportunity to let everyone take five. In fact you come with me if you want. That way you can take five too”. “It’s the 2.7.1 isn’t it?” he continued outside. “You don’t like it”. “No. I really like the 2.7.1. I think it’s got a lot of potential. I just also think it’s healthy to take five now and again”. “Okay”. I didn’t like the 2.7.1. Didn't make any sense to me. We got a surprise on reaching our destination; Dilic was there, sure. Next to him though was some kind of large weird-shaped peach coloured vehicle. It looked like something the armed forces would use. “Hey” I said by way of greeting. “What’s this?” “Zis is your transport for tonight. In light of ze previous troubles at ze Grays, I have bought zis for your trip”. “I don’t get it. What is it?” “It’s an armoured coach”. A proud look on his face, similar to that of a father about to give his daughter her first bicycle, Dilic rapped his fist on the side of the vehicle. Then he began to go into more details, pointing his hand where appropriate. “It’s known as a Rhino Runner” he explained. “Most commonly used in Iraq, although sometimes we also used them in Serbia to get to really difficult away games. The vehicle has side and back doors in case you get surrounded. It also has an emergency exit on ze roof. Most impressively, if ze tires get shot out, you vill be able to still drive ze vehicle on flats. On ze windows ze glass is bulletproof, of course”. “Has it got an ejector seat?” Brian grinned. “A bit over the top isn’t it?” I asked in a more serious tone. “Dragomir, the police have already promised the club we’ll be adequately looked after tonight. What’s more, there’s going to be more police at the ground than last time. There’s even going to be some waiting for us outside the ground. They’re going to shadow us back to the Essex border once the match is over. We’ll be fine. Turning up in this – thing – is just going to make us look ridiculous” “Enough! You vill take ze Rhino Runner. Zat is ze end of ze matter!” “Well I think it’s great” said Brian. “You can’t be too careful around hooligans. Thank-you very much, Mr Dilic”. “I am glad somebody appreciates it, especially after I had it brought here all ze way from Serbia via ze channel tunnel. Brian, why don’t you be ze first to climb aboard and see inside? It’s nicer inside zan it looks from ze out”. “Don’t mind if I do! Thanks”. I remained unconvinced “And if what if a group of thugs decides to attack us as we’re getting off the coach somewhere, maybe at a service station, or if we break down?” I enquired. “The armour on the outside of the coach isn’t going to be much help then is it?” “I have thought of zis too, as it happens”. Dilic turned in the direction of a nearby car and made a gesture with his hand. Next thing, three bald men got out. One of them was Brute - he stayed leaning on the passenger side door. The other two came all the way over to where we were stood. They had long raincoats on and looked hard as nails. “You vill take Marko and Novak here for added protection. Zey vill be your bodyguards for ze evening”. “Thanks, but I doubt two extra men will make much difference when we’ll already have more than twenty to begin with. My guys aren’t pussy cats you know”. “Yes, but your players are not weapons trained”. Again he made a gesture and again the men knew what to do. Without a missing a beat they opened up their raincoats. Taped to the inside were automatic weapons and hand grenades. “Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed, waving my arms wildly for them to button themselves up again. “We’re going to Grays, not f__king Lebanon! No disrespect but what the hell’s the matter with you? If the police catch them carrying things like, the whole club will get into trouble!" “Relax, my men have licenses to carry small arms under my diplomatic credentials”. “Be that as it may – “ At that moment Brian rapped on the window. He was smiling and pointing to some kind of cool-looking drinks holder he’d stumbled across on his trip down the aisle. His apparent enjoyment of the Rhino Runner was seriously annoying. “You know what?” I said, glancing around the car park and then back to Dragomir. “A quick test of the armoured plated windows might make me feel better”. Dilic nodded at his men out came the automatics. Next thing they sprayed a hail of bullets at the window Brian was stood behind. Naturally my assistant freaked at this and fell down into the aisle, his arms flapping around all over the shop. When he got back up, he looked momentarily about ten years older. Then the moment passed. Brian’s face gradually crept back into smile territory. Then he pointed at the unspoiled window and produced a big thumbs-up sign. “You are convinced now?” Dilic asked. “I suppose I haven’t got any choice if you’re going over my head, do I?” I replied. “You think you vill be okay then?” “Well, unless the Grays supporters club have purchased a heat-seeking missile anytime recently, I’m sure we’ll be perfectly fine this evening. Thank-you”. 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ScottleeSV Posted February 23, 2011 Author Share Posted February 23, 2011 24/03/10, League Match 37 Grays Athletic v Luton Town GK – Dean Brill (102 apps, 0 goals) DL – Richie Byrne (35 apps, 1 goal) DR – Claude Gnakpa (95 apps, 2 goals) DC – George Pilkington (95 apps, 4 goals) DC – Tony James (47 apps, 2 goals) DMC – Kevin Nicholls (62 apps, 17 goals) MC – Keith Keane (87 apps, 11 goals) ML – Charlie Daniels (45 apps, 4 goals) MR – Danny Cadamateri (34 apps, 11 goals) FC – Michael Bridges (31 apps, 12 goals) FC – Dean Bowditch (26 apps, 8 goals) Our journey to The Recreation Ground passed without incident. A mob of Grays fans were waiting to bait us at the entrance of the stadium, but they just stood gob-smacked once they saw the Rhino Runner pull in. They wouldn’t have been able to do anything more that catcall anyway; they were being kept in check by police lines. Earlier in the journey a Muslim with a turban spotted us waiting at some traffic lights. The guy then ran into a nearby shop only to reappear with a placard that read – “Say no to war”. Then he began banging it against the coach’s armoured plating. As much as I was tempted to dangle Brian’s pot belly out the side door to prove we weren’t soldiers, the lights turned to green again and we were away. The team today was the strongest I’ve been able to field for quite some time. I was literally able to pick everyone I’d want to pick apart from Michael Taylor. He would again be deputized by Danny Cadamateri. This was to be our fifth meeting against Grays this season. All the previous matches were draws after 90 minutes. First up was a 2-2 result at Kenilworth Road in the league. Then in the Live Bunny we finished 2-2 at The Recreation Ground (although after extra time it was 4-2 to us). Then, in the FA Trophy, we drew 1-1 at Kenilworth before again drawing 2-2 at The Recreation. On that latter occasion we went on to win on penalties after extra time. Tonight’s encounter predictably began with a crescendo of noise from all around the ground. This was as packed as I’ve ever seen it at Grays. There must easily been 2000 Luton fans squeezed in, and maybe just as many for Grays. Looking around the side of the pitch, you could hardly see a space between spectators anywhere. Sadly for all concerned, the game started off rubbish. From the moment Mohammed planted a header into Brill’s arms early on, a lengthy spell of dross began which didn’t end until halfway through the half. It was the typical chess match you often see between teams meeting for crucial six pointers. Then the game’s first big moment arrived. It began with a long ball from Byrne. The bounce deceived not only the intended target, Charlie Daniels, but also defenders Canoville and Gross. In on the blind side stole Michael Bridges and covering defender Fry took his legs out from under him. Certain penalty. Except it wasn’t, because the referee waved play on. Bridges was so convinced it was a pen (as were the rest of us!) he remained sat on his arse for at least twenty seconds with his arms in the air. My own protestations were accidentally a bit overloud, and some of local critics began getting on my back. “You’re still a t__t, Martin!” “Martin! Dieeeee!” The close shave got Grays off their arse and playing football. Or maybe it was us letting our heads drop and starting to play bad? Either way, the rest of the half was mostly uncomfortable viewing. Mohamed and Taylor are possibly the most dangerous double act the non-league has to offer at the moment. In the 26th minute Mohamed thought he’d lobbed Brill with a volley only to see it tipped acrobatically over. Then Taylor stretched out a long leg to control a diagonal ball from Cogan. He had Pilkington and Gnakpa for company here but Taylor slipped Mohammed in instead. Pass and run were executed so inch perfectly that Mohammed was through on goal here with quite a bit to spare. In the end he probably had too much time to think about what he was going to do. As Brill approached him, arms outspread, the forward hit one right-footed but missed the near post by a half yard. Golden chance gone begging. It was high time we emerged from the doldrums but we needed a stroke of good fortune to achieve it. Keane lost the ball in midfield but the referee adjudged Roddy had won it unfairly. Never in a lifetime had that actually been the case, which made me wonder if the ref was trying to even things up for the penalty he hadn’t given. Regardless, this was forty-five yards out, centrally positioned. Daniels and Cadamateri presented themselves as options tight to both flanks, and this seemed to stretch the Grays backline. Nicholls thus floated one straight down the middle and Bowditch had the chance to get on the end of it with a glancing header. The keeper was neither here nor there and Bowditch’s header went over the top of him. And sadly onto the top of the netting. Argh. The home side finished the half on top. Either side of Nicholls getting booked for a horribly late challenge which on another day might have seen a straight red, Mohammed blasted one at Brill from twelve yards (saved and then cleared by Pilko), and Vickers rode the challenges of a few defenders in the box before curling one from about fifteen yards (a foot wide). The visitors were the better side but we were still holding firm. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted February 24, 2011 Author Share Posted February 24, 2011 He's a very eccentric muslim ----------- I knew I was standing on the verge of a very important half of football. Would we end it four points behind our rivals, or two points in front? To go top would be nothing short of miraculous given the results we were getting at the start of this month. In the 55th minute Welch flashed past Byrne and made huge strides toward the by-line. We had plenty of players back here but Welch’s cross somehow picked out the only Grays players in a good attacking position. It was Taylor, and from six yards out he connected with a bullet header which would have burst the net had it not been directed straight at Brill’s chest. However the ball naturally came loose. And there was Taylor for the rebound to slam it home. The ground erupted. In despair I turned my back on the pitch, flashed Brian a look, and said nothing. This wretched little club looked like they were going to impact negatively on my life yet again, unless we could find a way to strike back. Mohammed half-volleyed one high and wide in the 58th, but after that they gave us some respite. Through mainly the endeavours of Daniels, Keane, and Cadamateri, we began playing as a team for the first time. Bridges hit a deflected shot wide in the 62nd, and not long after we had three successive corners in the 64th and 65th minutes. It was good solid pressure. It soon dried up again though. This was Grays after all. Feeling the desperation early, I threw my other two subs on. It was Buckley for Cadamateri and Niven for Nicholls. Both changes were risky but I didn’t have much to lose. In Nicholls’ case, he’d been booked earlier so it sort of made good sense in a way. Before I knew it there were just fourteen minutes remaining. Time always flies by when you're getting beat. Grays meanwhile were dropping deeper and deeper. Unadventurously, Keane passed diagonally backwards to Niven. Then Niven stroked it forwards to Bowditch who in turn went back to Niven. Then it went sideways to Keane. Then out to Buckley. All very nice but going nowhere. Then Buckley over-ran it and Cogan got a tackle in. I thought that was the end of the move but Cogan’s pass bounced off a colleague’s knee and went back to Buckley. Now the substitute had a chance to take the ball on and get a cross in. The Grays defence, in anticipation of Cogan doing much better, had got themselves slightly out of their comfort zone here. Buckley just needed a good delivery. In it went – low – speedy – across the box. And there was Dean Bowditch! Johnny on the spot to smash home from three yards out! Cue bedlam on the Luton terraces! I accepted Brian’s high five offer so hard I almost hurt him! With thirteen minutes left we were back level! What a crucial goal! Some of the Luton fans had spilled onto the pitch. Always seems to happen in situations like this doesn’t it? Dean Bowditch meanwhile had been booked for taking his shirt off. It took the referee a good minute or so to get the game back underway. The home fans had fallen completely silent. Could we go on and win it? Buckley thought so. His tail up from contributing the assist, he wiggled this way and that on the touchline and somehow kept the ball in play. Then he whipped another cross, higher this time, into the box. Bowditch was in there again as was Spencer. Haines though headed it down and out towards the edge of the box. Keane collected but didn’t shoot, I guess, because he spotted just how much the Grays defence was in disarray. Instead he farmed it out to Daniels close in on the left. Daniels slid it across the box and Bowditch went in for the kill! They all just missed it, Bowditch included! By whiskers! Agony. Knowing he needed to take the wind out of this situation and fast, the Grays boss made his second substitution. On came Reid. There were under ten minutes left now. Still time to grab a winner, but would it necessarily go to Luton? No of course not. Life’s a bitch like that isn't it? In the 83rd minute Haines fed Taylor just in front of our backline. With Mohammed now off the pitch receiving treatment for something, Taylor didn’t have much in the way of options. Instead then he just went for it. To be more specific, he went for an outrageous chip that floated straight over Brill’s head and landed in the far corner of the net. Un-fecking-believable. How can anybody pull that off at this stage of a match (a match of THIS importance)? Still, Taylor had managed it. For the second time in the game the home crowd went ape and all our good work in getting back into it was undone. Just as infuriating was the way nobody from Grays got booked for over-celebrating even though they all piled on top of each other and took about half an hour to separate. Straight from the kick-off Spencer knocked it back to Niven who spread it out wide to Daniels. The leftie dilly-dallied for a few moments before attempting a diagonal pass through to Bowditch. It was too ambitious though and Haines was there to mop up and pass back to the keeper. He misfired though! Bowditch nipped it before the keeper could get there! Then all he had to do was round him and tap in. Unbelievable! We’d equalised again within barely a minute! The Luton fans may have been going berserk over it mind but I wasn’t; I was too out of breath from all the ups and downs. This game had quite simply gone crazy. In the space of six minutes it had gone from 1-0 to 2-2. Mad. So who wanted to win it now? The noise around the ground in the final few minutes might have suggested there were 10000 present instead of 4000. From one end to the other the ball rebounded. First Grays, then Luton, then Grays again. Back and forth. Spencer was the man who had the best opportunity in these tense final exchanges. He connected with a Gnakpa cross only to volley just wide with his knee. Ultimately however, a 5th consecutive draw between the two sides (if you only count the first ninety minutes in all games) was on the cards and that was how it ended. We were definitely happier about this than they were and celebrated appropriately. How important will Bowditch's two equalisers prove come the final shake-up? -------------- FINAL SCORE (att - 3686) Grays Athletic 2 (Taylor 55, 83) Luton Town 2 (Bowditch 77, 84) -------------- (other results) Rushden 1-0 Cambridge Stevenage 0-1 Tamworth -------------- (table after 37/46 of our games) 1 - Grays (78) 2 - Rushden (78) 3 - Luton (77) 4 - York (68) 5 - Oxford (61) 6 - Salisbury (60) Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chao Yang Posted February 26, 2011 Share Posted February 26, 2011 Can we please see the Rhino in action? Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
FlownCanary Posted February 27, 2011 Share Posted February 27, 2011 Still can't beat Grays huh? That must really be getting annoying. Love the rhinomobile thing btw! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted March 1, 2011 Author Share Posted March 1, 2011 Actually, given the state of the title race, this was probably the most satisfying draw against Grays to date ------------ 25/03/10 - Just Brilliant I spent five hours working in my private office today, and yet the only significant development occurred during a trip to the toilet. Incidentally I’m still sufficiently not used to working on the second floor to the extent I find myself going down to ground level whenever I need a pee. Hanging about down there today were Dean Brill and err Caroline, an unlikely combination if ever there was one. Dean skulked off through the toilet door when he saw me but Caroline hung about for a quick word. “Hmm” I began. “I wonder if I’ve just solved the mystery of who your secret boyfriend is”. “Him? Oh no. I speak to him sometimes but he’s not the guy. No, that’s someone else”. “Okay. So it’s still going well with this mystery guy then?” “Yeah it’s still going well. I might even tell you who it is soon”. “I’ll look forward to it”. Truth be told, I’d already known things were going well even before she answered the question. Caroline has been paying a lot of attention to the way she looks recently. She might not think people have noticed but they have. Where as she used to look like a goth she now looks half goth half someone about to go on a dinner date. It’s nice to see her happy anyway. “Just out of curiosity” I called after her as she walked off. “I’m curious - what could you and Dean possibly have in common with each other in order to chat? It can’t be football”. “We like the same music”. “Oh”. “Yep. Tell you what, I’ll miss seeing him around once he goes to Wigan”. “You what?” “Wigan. He’s going to Wigan. You know, the football club. Oh, you didn’t know that did you?” I stood looking at her with my mouth open. Then I shook my head. “Err well anyway” she followed up with. “I’d better get back to work. Bye, James!” She disappeared back into the communal offices. As for me, I had a date with Dean in the toilets. Sounds a bit dodgy when I say it like that doesn’t it? “DEAN!” I shouted once I was in there. Years ago when I was in high school, I’d tried to get a friend’s attention in the men’s whilst he was peeing. The trouble was, I’d only ended up startling him into turning his ‘equipment’ ninety degrees left and giving me a good soaking. Thankfully on this occasion Dean showed better control with his you-know-what than he obviously had with his big mouth. “What?” he asked nervously, hurriedly zipping himself up. “What’s this about you going to Wigan?” “Who told you that?” “Does it matter?” “No. Okay look, yeah I’m going. My contract’s up at the end of the season. I can’t turn down Wigan, can I? They’re in the premiership! This is my big chance! I’m sorry. I’ve already agreed terms”. We still have nine league games to play before the end of the season. I hadn’t expected to have to deal with this kind of problem until May! How many more of my stars are planning a move to a higher club? Certainly a great many of them are capable of it. In any case, to lose Brill is a blow. He’s been my Mr Reliable between the sticks ever since I joined the club. Recently he became the first player to play a hundred games for me. “Are you sure you’re not biting off more than you can chew by going to Wigan?” I asked desperately. “Conference to Premiership is a hell of a leap. You might not get regular first team football there”. “I know that and I’m prepared to play back-up for a while if I need to. I’m still very young for a goalkeeper. I’ve got time on my side. Also, I don’t know when a move like this will come again. I’ve got to take it”. “Well it would have been nice to hear about it from you rather than get it second hand!” “Yeah I’m sorry about that. I was going to tell you soon. I was just waiting for the right moment”. I rubbed my chin. Thought hard. No point trying too hard to change his mind if he’d already agreed terms. “I take it I can still rely on you to give 100% for the rest of your time here?” “Of course! I want to sign off with promotion if I can”. “Okay, get out of my sight. I’ll see you at training”. “Okay boss. And I’m sorry again”. “Me too, kid, me too”. As Dean left the toilets, I paced up and down for a few moments before taking an almighty swing at the hand-drying machine. Not only did I hurt my fist in the process, but the box crashed down off the wall and landed on the tiling. I’d broken it. ‘Oh for crying out loud’. Oh well. It’s much easier to dry your hands on tissues anyway. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chao Yang Posted March 2, 2011 Share Posted March 2, 2011 Oh no! I hope you can find a good replacement for ol' Brill. Is he good enough to push Kirkland off the starting spot though? Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
mametz1536 Posted March 2, 2011 Share Posted March 2, 2011 I'm in love with Caroline (although she's half my age!!). Just a brillant story mate ! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted March 3, 2011 Author Share Posted March 3, 2011 Thanks guys ----------- 26/03/10 - Loving it “Brill’s departure is desperately disappointing for the club” Andy Branston remarked, telling me something I didn’t know. “How do you plan to replace him?” “We’re not planning to replace him at the moment. Not until the summer. I’ve got too much on my plate with the title race at the moment to be worrying about who’s going and who’s staying. Let’s get promotion out of the way first and then worry about next season’s team later”. “I don’t mean to be critical when I say this, James - ”. 'Yes you do'. “ – However, don’t you think you should have done more in the January window? Where as a lot of other clubs were strengthening and fine-tuning during that period, you weren't. Grays in particular benefited hugely from one or two loan additions during the window, and look at the run of form they’ve gone on”. ‘That’s being critical’. “Look, I’ve always maintained from an early stage in the season that we had enough strength in depth to not need January additions, not to mention the fact the wage budget coffers are running at a deficit anyway. More than that though if we have lost a few games along the way, I would put that down to our unreasonable schedule rather than a spate of injuries. Anyway, no harm no foul. We’ve picked up seven points from nine and we’re back on track. Hopefully”. I could sense he was about to open his mouth again, probably to point out the fixture congestion was my fault due to our run in the Live Bunny. Quickly then I pointed to Bill Tulip. “James, going into the final stretch of matches you’re currently one point behind Grays and Rushden. There’s a feeling in many quarters however that the title should have been wrapped up by now. Both Grays and Rushden have had far smaller budgets to work with than Luton this season, less than half if you believe some rumours”. “A lot more factors go into deciding a title race than what budgets everyone has” I blurted out before he could finish with a question. “Never mind what’s happened up to this point. Nothing’s ever decided in the first thirty-seven games. Let’s see where we’re at come the end of April. That’s what’s important”. Bill shook his head and sighed. Then he leaned back in his seat. Andy had his hand up once more but like I was going straight back there again! “Yes, Victoria?” “Looking forward to Cambridge tomorrow, James?” “An excellent question. Yes I am looking forward to Cambridge. It should be an interesting day out and hopefully a good game of football between two very entertaining sides”. “Planning on taking the Rhino-mobile with you?” Cue laughter around the room. There were twelve assorted journalists and media representatives here today. They all evidently found the subject of the Rhino Runner rather funny. “It’s called a Rhino Runner, and if you must know I’m not sure if we’ll be using it tomorrow. It hasn’t been high on my list of priorities over the past couple of days”. Pantsil had his hand up now. “Yes, Jonathan?" “On the subject of the Rhino Runner, don’t you think it was a bit disrespectful to Grays to take that vehicle along the other night? I spoke to one disgruntled member of the Grays board yesterday who was very offended by it. He seemed to think the whole thing was a not very subtle dig at the club’s security arrangements rather than a serious attempt to protect the Luton players”. “Utter nonsense. I can tell you now our decision to use the Rhino Runner was based solely on a recommendation from – “ “I think you’ve missed the point” Bill said loudly across to Johnathan. “The Rhino Runner’s so James can get out of Luton safely when he misses out on promotion”. Cue another outbreak of chuckles around the room. This time I went red and rose to my feet. “Hey hey! Now look, truth be told I don’t really care what Grays think about the damn Rhino Runner! We were attacked by their fans and as such we’ve got every right to protect ourselves from further attacks! And on a more general note I’ve just about had it up to here with you lot writing about Grays this and Grays that. Ooh, look at Grays, riding high! plucky little Grays! What a story! Top of the league on a pittance! Aren’t they socking it to the big boys? And blah blah blah. I'm sick of it". Brian tugged gently on my arm, presumably as a hint to get me to sit back down again. I shrugged him off though and carried on. “They'd better watch out though, and Rushden too, because I’ll tell you now – we’re still fighting for this title! That’s right, we’re still fighting for it. We’re still right up there. And I’ll tell you what, I would love it if we beat them! Love it!” On that note I turned on my heels and walked out. Behind me I could just about hear Brian’s wrap-up as I entered the corridor. “Okay, ladies gentlemen. I think that’s all for today. Thankyou for coming”. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
salkster2102 Posted March 3, 2011 Share Posted March 3, 2011 Nicely done Mr Keegan Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Chao Yang Posted March 4, 2011 Share Posted March 4, 2011 Pity you weren't wearing headphones~ Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted March 4, 2011 Author Share Posted March 4, 2011 27/03/10 - Town full of students In light of my unfortunate performance in front of the press yesterday, I decided this would be one of those away days I would travel alone. Hopefully it would clear my head and help me re-focus. I’ve never been to Cambridge with Luton before either. The place therefore was largely very fresh to me. On a football level it’s not easy deciding whether Cambridge should be thought of as a former league club or simply a non-league club who once had a lengthy spell in the league. Until 1970 they were non-league through and through. Then they replaced Bradford Park Avenue in the old Division Four and stayed either at that level or higher until 2005. They even rose a couple of times into the second tier, and in 1992 only just missed out on promotion to the premier league. To their fans those days probably seem like a world away now. Even I can remember John Beck’s gallant Cambridge sides that reached the FA Cup quarter finals two years running in the early nineties. In the 1990 quarters they lost to Crystal Palace by the odd goal, a scrambled effort by Geoff Thomas if I remember correctly which went through half a dozen legs before bobbling in at the far corner. Then in 91' Arsenal beat them at Highbury by a score of 2-1. Heady days indeed. Before I could get on with enjoying the delights of the city, I had a quick call to Chantelle to make. “Hi, it’s me” I said, beeping my car door closed. “I’ve just got to Cambridge. Did you do it?” “Yep. All done and booked”. “Fantastic. Tenerife here we come!” Actually, I’m not all that thrilled on the inside. How good can a simple beach resort like that be anyway? Still, I’ll be with Chantelle I suppose, and maybe I’m being a touch on a snobby side. We'll see. We’re not going until after the football season ends, before you ask. “Right, my stomach’s rumbling so I’m going to sign off. I’ll catch you later, okay?” “Yeah. And don’t forget to bring me a souvenir from the trip this time”. “A souvenir from Cambridge. That might be a challenge. Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Catch you later”. “Bye”. So where did I go after the phone call? Well I certainly didn’t go back to Histon and Impington, located just north of here. What a bore that was! There was nothing to do but sit in a pub, if I remember rightly. No, I definitely going to stray that way. To begin with I took a stroll down Trinity Street and grabbed a bite to eat (to take out). Then I got wind of the Quayside so I went down there to actually eat. I did think about having a go at the punting but couldn’t see anywhere to enquire about it so quickly dismissed the idea. It probably wouldn’t have been much fun without Chantelle anyway. Punting is something you should ideally do lying next to your woman with some guy dressed like the marshmallow man guiding you under arced bridges in the middle of Venice. With the marshmallow man singing a bit of opera too. On a blustery day in Cambridge though with no woman by your side – waste of time. As an alternative activity I went to visit a couple of museums. First I went to the Cambridge & County Folk Museum on Castle Street. This place wasn’t much cop; eight rooms in total, all containing not particularly interesting relics from Cambridge centuries past, coins, fashions, toys, etcetera. I was all done in ten minutes and then I needed something else to do. Next up was the Cambridge Museum of Technology. This was better. Unlike the folk museum, this one looked like it had actually strained a sinew to put the exhibits together. Most impressive were the steam engines. They didn’t look as safe to travel in as The Rhino Runner, but I guess back in those days beggars couldn’t be choosers. A hundred years from now, I wonder if replicas of the Rhino Runner will regularly make it into museums like this? When I was done I got back in my car and headed for Cambridge United’s Abbey Stadium. Last night I had a dream that we came back from 2-0 down at half time to win 4-3. Shame reality never reflects pure unadulterated fantasy. “Gentlemen” I said to the players in the dressing room. “On paper I reckon this the hardest fixture we have left. Come through this one and I think the title might just be going to Kenilworth Road this season. You’ve got to earn it though. It would be a shame to let all that good work achieved against Grays go to waste wouldn’t it? With that in mind, play hard, focus hard, and bring it home! A draw is the absolute minimum required today, guys. A win though would be great. Now go to it! Your honour demands it!” 'Now where the hell did that come from?' Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Welwyn Posted March 4, 2011 Share Posted March 4, 2011 Ironic, we did that at Cambridge last season!!!!!!!!!!! Had 10 men at HT too! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
FlownCanary Posted March 6, 2011 Share Posted March 6, 2011 What a great Keegan impersonation you do Mr Martin! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted March 7, 2011 Author Share Posted March 7, 2011 I might just have known about the 4-3 And thanks, Flown. ------------- 27/03/10, League Match 38 Cambridge United v Luton Town GK – Dean Brill (103 apps, 0 goals) DL – Richie Byrne (36 apps, 1 goal) DR – George Pilkington (96 apps, 4 goals) DC – Tony James (48 apps, 2 goals) DC – David McCracken (32 apps, 1 goal) DMC – Kevin Nicholls (63 apps, 17 goals) MC – Keith Keane (88 apps, 11 goals) ML – Clint Easton (23 apps, 1 goal) MR – Michael Taylor (31 apps, 1 goal) FC – Michael Bridges (32 apps, 12 goals) FC – Danny Cadamateri (35 apps, 11 goals) With the games still coming thick and fast, I opted to rest Daniels, Gnakpa, and Bowditch. I did at least let Bowditch make up the numbers on the bench however. Gnakpa’s absence pushed Pilkington out to right back with McCracken coming into replace him at centre half. The first few minutes didn’t generate anything but bookings – McCracken and Coulson. Then Challinor laid on the first pot shot for Gritton. It was only a half chance, teed up for him to smack left footed through a crowded penalty area. Gritton got too much underneath it. Our first attempt resulted from a far more patient build up. Even I was getting bored with the ball retention by the time Taylor set up Cadamateri. It was similar to the Cambridge move actually, only Cadders managed to get it on target. Which is not to say it was a particularly brilliant effort. It was straight at goalkeeper Potter who batted it down into the ground for Wordsworth to clear. There was nothing poetic about Wordsworth’s clearance, by the way. It went straight into Row Q. Even game this. The crowd were fairly quiet as a result. Possession seemed a nice even split. Shots on goal were tied. Even the corner count was 1-1. In the 21st minute Keane shot from all of forty yards. It wasn’t very powerful but the ball bobbled several times on the extremely uneven surface leading to a spill from Potter. Just a shame neither Bridges nor Cadamateri had gambled. They probably just hadn’t picked Keane to get it on target. Ripostes from Cambridge consisted of a looping header just over from Crow, and a shot miles wide from Farrell. They’re a big, brutish side are Cambridge. One or two flair players but mostly just incredible hulks trying to play the intimidation factor. In the Premiership they say Arsenal try and pass the ball into the net. I think Cambridge try to grunt it in. In the 26th minute Parkinson was booked for shoving Nicholls. As the stalemate continued, I found myself very tempted to check on the Grays and Rushden latest. Grays were at home to Mansfield today and Rushden away to AFC Wimbledon. I’d offered Steve a free night of drinks on me if he could get at least a draw against the Diamonds. He’d replied to tell me no problem. Unfortunately there were several problems with checking for updates. Firstly, to ask Brian for info would be to officially vindicate him for carrying that stupid Blackberry around. Secondly, we were away from home. I figured the chances any Cambridge fans behind the dugout keeping one ear on Radio Grays during today’s play highly unlikely. And what were the odds of any of them carrying their own Blackberry phones? Probably not very good given how much Brian told me they cost to buy from your average retailer. Anyway, it’s pointless worrying about other teams if you’re not doing the business in your own game. In the 43rd minute Challinor tormented the out-of-position Pilkington. Then he swung a curling loopy one into the box. Farrell was in there completely unmarked to power a diving header past Brill. 1-0. Just like that. The crowd got to their feet and celebrated. The black and amber shirts meanwhile all congregated near the corner flag to perform their pre-rehearsed goal celebration routine. It seemed to be an improvisation of several men ironing some invisible clothes on an invisible ironing board. “Oh look, how cute” I remarked. “They’ve got their own little private joke going on”. “Oh well” said Brian. “Hey! Do you want me to see what the scores from the other – “ “No. Don’t bother”. “Right”. I thought Cambridge’s goal would be the last action of the half. There was just time though for Taylor to go on a run of his own and win a corner on the far side. Everybody went forward for this except for Brill. When the ball went in, Nicholls and somebody from Cambridge went up together. The ball deflected up off both heads together and when it dropped Tony James had the chance for a header with nobody on him. The problem was there was no pace on the ball by this point. He had to generate his own pace and as a result could only produce a slow looping one the keeper claimed easily. When Potter finally hoofed it downfield again, the ref blew for half time. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted March 9, 2011 Author Share Posted March 9, 2011 Good news and bad news about the story today. The bad - this is likely my last update for a week because I won't be in the office at all for a while now. The good news is that my new internet provider at home should be up and running by March 15th (I haven't had any home net access at all since Jan 23rd), I'll be very happy no longer being forced to post at lunchtimes, which has been irritating beyond belief. I haven't enjoyed writing at work, to be frank. ------------ “Give it another fifteen to twenty minutes of the same, then up the tempo. In fact just wait for the first substitution. If we’re still behind by that point, that will be the signal to start pushing forward and going for it. Good luck”. It turned out we didn’t need to wait for the first substitution. In the 49th minute, with Cambridge in full retreat mode and our mob bombing forwards playing pass after pass, Nicholls teed up Cadamteri from twenty yards. Wordsworth blocked the shot but got the ball tangled between his legs and Nicholls managed to poke it out from underneath. It thus ran to Bridges, twelve yards out. The striker took one touch and calmly slotted under the advancing Potter. What a crucial goal that was! Bridges has not had a good few months for scoring goals. My persistence in him though (together with a shortage of other options) has clearly paid dividends. He enjoyed that one too, fist-pumping the air before jogging back to the centre circle with a real spring in his step. There were no fancy goal celebrations amongst our boys today. We just wanted to get on with our business. Two minutes later Easton played an absolutely sumptuous cross-field pass over to Gnakpa on the far side. Even more impressive was the way Gnakpa controlled it for Taylor to carry forwards. That was Cafu-esque. Taylor meanwhile sprinted forwards on a dribble and fooled Hoyte into thinking he was going for the bye-line. Instead he cut inside and slightly overran the ball. Once he caught up to it he hit a bobbling left footed shot that was heading for the far corner, until Potter turned it around the post that is. Next it was Cambridge’s turn. Inspired by a booking for Keane, they poured forwards with intent. Hoyte to Challinor. Back to Hoyte. Forwards to Farrell. Sideways to Crow. Good lord, the ambers were actually trying to play some football! Crow slipped one into Gritton and he forced Brill to parry one off to the side. Pilkington cleared. Despite that chance, I felt we the better side now. As such, I held back on the substitutions. On 63 minutes El Skip gathered up a loose ball and went on a solo charge through the middle. He got a lucky ricochet to get past Pitt but Coulson was a different story. The defender stood firm and forced Nicholls into re-evaluating his options. Bridges was free so Nicholls found him. From here Taylor was screaming for the ball wide right but Bridges dilly-dallied and eventually cut back into a central position on his favoured left foot. Favoured was right. The striker’s effort was a screamer. Potter got one flailing hand on it to take some of the pace off but it still wound up in the back of the net. We’d taken the lead! Brilliant stuff. This time the celebrations were a lot more animated. Bridges and five colleagues all ran behind the goal to stand in front of the away end, giving it large. They stood there so long I was worried somebody might get booked for overdoing it. As it was, the ref was lenient. Cambridge immediately tried to get forward and post a response so I broke up their momentum by bringing on a sub. Taylor was flagging a little as was understandable given that this was his first game back. As such, I took Taylor off and brought Bowditch on. Then I instructed Cadamateri and Bowditch to swop positions so we maintained our shape. It’s a change I’ve made often enough. It looked like we might be under the cosh for the rest of the half. There were twenty minutes left and no doubt who wanted the next goal the most. The more and more this game had progressed however, the more I’d gradually learned for myself why this year’s Cambridge side have underachieved on such a large scale. Just when you think they might roar into life and do something brutal, one of their number makes an ugly c__k-up and you get a golden chance to punish them. So it was in the 75th minute. Keane’s ball forward from the centre circle was, to be frank, useless. Gleeson missed his kick though and Bowditch suddenly found himself through on goal. The first touch wasn’t great and Wordsworth managed to get goal-side of him. But then Bowditch tried to jink past his man and miraculously it worked. Wordsworth just didn’t seem interested, either that or he was simply very slow on the uptake. Either way, Bowditch was through on goal for the second time in the space of ten seconds. This time nobody caught him. Fresh off the back of his brace against Grays, the striker hammered low across Potter and the far corner bulged. Pandemonium in the away end and three points to the whites. Best of it, Rushden had lost and Grays had only drawn. Crisis? What crisis? ------------- FINAL SCORE (att - 3067) Cambridge United 1 (Farrell 42) Luton Town 3 (Bridges 49, 63, Bowditch 75) ------------- (other results) AFC Wimbledon 5-3 Rushden Grays 1-1 Mansfield Histon 1-1 Forest Green Kettering 0-1 Woking Macclesfield 0-0 Burton Salisbury 1-3 Northwich St Albans 1-1 Ebbsfleet Tamworth 2-0 Crawley Weymouth 2-1 Oxford York 1-1 Kidderminster ------------- (table after we've played 38/46 games. Some other teams have played either more or less) 1 - Luton (80) 2 - Grays (79) 3 - Rushden (78) 4 - York (69) Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Icepick Posted March 10, 2011 Share Posted March 10, 2011 Yay! What a nice win and great results in the other games! Go Luton! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
FlownCanary Posted March 16, 2011 Share Posted March 16, 2011 Good result, glad to finally see you at the top of the league! I hope you're internet gets up and running soon dude, can't wait for the end of this season, looks like it'll be a thriller! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
salkster2102 Posted March 16, 2011 Share Posted March 16, 2011 Well played Halifax last night. Would have been a different game had we scored the penalty to make it 2-2. Think the scoreline doesn't show our efforts though Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScottleeSV Posted March 16, 2011 Author Share Posted March 16, 2011 The Cambridge win was one of my best ever on FM, I think. Last night's game was very good for us. Were you, by chance, the Stocksbridge fan in the leather coat coming out of the toilets with a scarf on? Or maybe you were one of the two guys (also with scarves) stood talking to a steward in the corner before kick off? Or maybe one of the group of seven sat in the stand? If none of the above, I'm out of guesses. -------------- 28/03/10 - Surcharge As I got out of the car this afternoon I took my copy of The Sun with me, skim-reading it as I walked. I don’t know why I bother. It’s all the same rubbish in the football section; managers moaning about this, that, and the other, players claiming they won’t bottle whichever big game is coming up, the usual palaver. Swiping my card in the door, I wandered inside and dumped the paper on reception. Then I went through to the ground floor corridor. My mind was choc full of bulls__t but that didn’t stop me noticing the toilet door. In short, it was gone. So was the door to the ladies. In their place were two huge iron clad barriers, the revolving turnstile type you sometimes see in modern day train and bus stations. What in the hell was going on here!? Bewildered I sidled up to the men’s for a closer examination. The turnstiles bars were two inches thick. Between each one was a one inch (or so) gap with which you could peek through to the toilets beyond. Built in to this monstrosity was a giant coin box with a slot in it. Above the slot was a piece of tape with ‘20p’ written on it. So presumably, I now had to pay if I wanted a pee? Ridiculous. Just then Darren appeared from the communal offices. Spotting me straight away and sensing he was perhaps going to bear the brunt of an anger attack, he shut the door behind himself and grimaced. I wasn’t going to lose my temper though. I’d save that for whoever had authorised pay-as-you-p!ss. “Not great is it?” he offered, nodding at the turnstiles. “You’re damn right it’s not! Who did this?” “Two labourers came in this morning and just got right on it. Erica was with them briefly, talking and pointing at the old toilet doors. Then she just left them to it”. Erica. It could only be Erica couldn’t it? Of course it could. Without saying another word I turned in the opposite direction and made for the stairwell. “Dude – “ Darren began, but that was the last I heard. As I was scaling the first of the stairs, the sound of heavy drilling hit my ears. It sounded like it was coming from someplace on the first floor so I decided to make a quick pit stop there. Sure enough, halfway down the first floor corridor two builder types were hard at it with a Black and Decker. Presumably they were the same two who’d done the ground stairs toilets. On noticing my arrival, the guy operating the drill turned it off and got up off his knees. “Any chance of another cuppa, mate?” “I’m the manager” I replied in an offended voice, and then after an awkward silence – “As in the club manager, who runs the actual team?” “Oh, sorry mate. I’m a Spurs fan myself so I wouldn’t know”. “And I’m Millwall” the other guy volunteered. Sighing vigorously I turned around and carried on up to the second floor. I barged through into Erica’s office without even knocking. She was stood in the middle of the room with her mobile phone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. “The toilets!” I snapped. “What do you think you’re doing?” “What does it look like we’re doing?” she responded. “We’re introducing a charge for usage. And I’d appreciate it if you’d knock next time”. “A charge for usage? Don’t you think that’s taking the concept of money making just a little bit too far? I've only seen those sort of things before in bus stations! This is a bloody office building! We can’t be that hard up, surely? What's next - air tax?" “Actually we are hard up, not that you’d know anything about it. This isn’t just about money anyway”. “Then what is it about?” Erica mooched on over to her desk and returned carrying a plastic box. It was only when she got closer I realised the box was actually the hand dryer I’d knocked over the other day. “Look at this” Erica insisted, holding the dryer up level with her neck. I wanted to wring it, and I don't mean the box. “Somebody smashed this on the men’s toilet floors the other day. One of the cleaners passed it to me. It’s not the first time people have left the toilets in a mess either. If it’s not toilet roll being left to roll all over the floor, it’s graffiti on the cubicle doors. I mean seriously, some people have just got no respect for building facilities, and this hand dryer incident is the final straw”. “You can’t do this, Erica. There must be something in the health and safety guidelines about employees being entitled to toilet access, FREE toilet access that is”. “You still do have access to a free toilet, several of them. Any employees who don’t want to pay to use the office toilets can go out down the tunnel and use the toilets littered around the stadium”. “Oh you can’t be serious! That'll take ages!" “I’m deadly serious”. I looked at the hand dryer and felt cross with myself. There was no taking back what I’d done now though, and Erica didn’t look like she was in the mood for budging. “You’re making a big mistake here, Erica. Things like this, annoying the hell of everyone, it just makes good staff look elsewhere”. “Good staff?” she chuckled. “You can’t mean the office staff? I’d let any of those buffoons leave even without insisting on a month’s notice! Give me a break”. “Whatever, Erica”. The conversation was over. Not saying goodbye (Do I ever when it comes to her?) I waltzed back out the door again and returned to ground level. Worst of all, I could feel a number two coming on. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
salkster2102 Posted March 16, 2011 Share Posted March 16, 2011 Yes that was me with the leather coat. I was talking to one of the stewards in the little smoking corner between the two stands before the two games. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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