Luton Town : Staring into the Abyss

[ScottleeSV]

Cool, Salk. Next time I shall definitely say hello

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29/03/10 - It's all in the detail

I always sit to attention when someone phones Brenda because that usually means it’s for me. Not many people in the football fraternity have much to say to Brenda Easthope, as a rule.

“James, it’s for you” she announced, putting one hand over the phone.

“Oh, really?” I replied with a smile.

“Yeah. It’s Eugene Waldon”.

And just like that, my smile faded.

“Tell him I’m too busy to meet with him at the moment. Tell him I’ve got his number and I’ll call him back when I’ve got time to spare”.

“He’s already outside in the car park”.

“Really? Well, that doesn’t change anything. His own fault. He should have booked before coming. Thank god we’ve got that swipe card door”.

As Brenda turned back to the phone, I glanced around the room. Darren was watching on without expression. Caroline meanwhile was standing and putting her coat on. Nicky wasn’t here; she was on holiday visiting her granddad.

“You off for a cig break?” I asked.

“Yup”.

“Okay. Don’t talk to that Eugene though if he’s still hanging around when you get out there, at least not about club business anyway”.

“Oh come on, James, what do you take me for?”

“And don’t tell him you work in the same room as me either”.

Shaking her head, Caroline left the room. She had a look on her face as if she'd just been told not to forget the Green Cross Code. Once she was gone I made a cuppa for those remaining. I could have got Brenda to do it if I’d wanted but going into the kitchen area gives me a chance to rest my eyes from the computer screen. Besides, I’d look like a power-hungry snob if I just took, took, took all the time.

“How are you getting on with the new toilets?” I asked Brenda, setting her coffee down.

“Okay, I suppose”.

Currently she was the only one stumping up money to use them. Everyone else was going out into the stadium, yours truly included. I suppose if you’re young it doesn’t feel so far to go each time.

“Where do Cyril and Lee go to the loo?” Darren pondered. “There isn’t a toilet in that port-a-cabin, and they sure as hell don’t have swipe cards to come in here”.

“Don’t they use that first aid cabin off to the – “.

“No that’s locked up on a non match day” I interrupted. “Cyril and Lee go to The Hatters (Arms) every time they want a movement. It’s probably slightly further to walk than what we have to do but they’ll have less doors to open”.

Brenda and Darren thought about this for a moment.

“And Gav’s fine with that arrangement?” - Darren.

“Of course he is. Cyril and Lee are regulars. He could hardly refuse them could he? They probably spend thirty quid a week in there – got to be”.

When Caroline came back in she headed straight for my desk instead of her own.

“That Eugene’s really cool” she claimed.

“You talked to him? I thought I said – “

“Relax! We didn’t talk about anything to do with Luton and he didn’t ask. He just stood with me whilst I had a cig. We had a cool chat about horror films”.

I would have guessed he was more into porn films, if I’d been absolutely forced to speculate. I didn’t share my thoughts though. Caroline meanwhile walked back to her desk.

“What sort of car has he got?” I asked idly. “A Mr Bean special, I’ll bet”.

“No actually, it’s quite nice. He’s got a Vauxhall Corsa. A grey one”.

‘Stuart’s car was a grey Vauxhall Corsa’.

“There wasn’t any damage to his rear end was there?”

“Err year actually. I think there was a large dent of some kind, now that you mention it. How did you – “

Before she could finish I leapt out from behind my desk and through the door, catching my knee in the process. Biting back pain I sprinted down the corridor towards reception. Seconds later and I was out in the car park. When I got there, I saw that Eugene was in the process of sliding his car out through the main gates. As fast as I could I sprinted after him. I didn't even stop to think about it. I just sprinted.

Too late though. Just as it had outside Chantelle’s house, the grey Corsa accelerated away from me. He’d got away. There weren’t even any nearby rocks to lob.

“Eugene you sneaky fish” I said out loud.

I wasn’t about to give up, mind. Just as an inquisitive looking Darren emerged from the building behind me, I rushed to my car and beeped it open. Then I jumped in and prepared to give chase.

“Hey what are you doing?” Darren waved, running up next to the driver's side door. Caroline was stood in the doorway of the main building now. Was Brenda planning on coming out too?

‘Never you mind’, Darren' I replied in my mind.

Moments later and I was away.

[The Icepick]

Brilliant twist, Scott! Never saw that one coming!

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks mate

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29/03/10 - The fast and the furious : Luton drift

I would love to say that Eugene and I embarked on a madcap high-speed death race from one end of Luton to the other – at a hundred and ten miles per hour. I would love to say I swerved onto the pavement of the main high street, causing seventy shoppers to scarper out of the way, seconds before I swerved back onto the road again just behind the Corsa. I would love to say how a large group of cop cars began tailing us, only to one by one crash and flip because they just didn’t have the skill to keep up.

I would love to say I followed Eugene into the wrong lane of a dual carriageway; both of us having to swing our vehicles left and right to avoid the oncoming hoards. I would love to say I was tricked into thinking he’d gone into a car park, only to discover he hadn’t, and then, in order to regain lost ground, had to drive off the top of the car park (seven floors up) and land my car inside PC World on the second floor of the mall across the street, right before I charged through the shop destroying desks and keyboards before then driving through the window on the opposite side of the store.

…landing perfectly behind The Corsa again.

No such stuff actually happened of course. In fact mine and Eugene’s chase was more like a race for dweebs. I know he knew I was following him because he turned his head not long after we left Kenilworth and glanced back. People only do that when they can’t quite believe what they’ve just seen in their wing mirror. Our respective speeds though, even after he’d clocked me, barely rose higher than thirty.

I didn’t mind. I had no intention of catching up and ramming him off the road. All I had to do was keep a safe distance, not break any traffic laws, and then confront the guy when he finally decided to stop. Or when he ran out of petrol. Either way was fine with me. I had all day.

Once we were past the town centre and running parallel to some industrial estate or another, I thought about putting some music on. The last album I’d had in the CD player was a collection of James Bond themes that Darren insisted I borrow. Wouldn’t that just be the perfect thing to listen to as I followed Eugene? Absolutely yes! With relish then I turned it on. Except I soon discovered it wasn’t Bond, or Shirley Bassey, or indeed anybody connected to the franchise.

‘You were always on my mind!’ Willie Nelson sang. ‘You were always on my mind. You were always on myyyy mind!’

“Dammit Chantelle”.

Why can’t women leave men’s CD players alone? And what the hell had she done with the Bond CD? As I turned Willie off, I risked reaching over into the glove department to have a look-see.

I soon retracted my hands to the wheel though because I noticed out the corner of my eye Eugene pulling into a car park. It wasn’t just any old car park either. A large fence surrounded it with barbed wire on top running all the way around it. At the entrance was one of those barriers that flip up and down depending on whether you’re allowed through or not. Next to that was a little hut what looked like two armed policemen inside.

“The f__k is this?” I asked out loud.

I stopped fifty yards short of the entrance, peering left through both the passenger side window and the fence beyond. The building in the middle of the car park was gigantic. Across the top were the words – Tokichi Robotics. I could just make out the distance figure of Eugene exiting his car and scurrying through the front door.

Was this where Eugene worked? What the hell was this place? Would I be allowed in? There was one way to answer the third of those questions. Shuffling the gear stick around again I surged forwards and turned left into the entrance ‘niche’. The barrier blocked my way of course, and very soon afterwards there was a rap on my window from one of the guys in the hut.

“Can I help you sir?” he asked from the doorway.

“Yeah, I err I’ve always liked robotics and as such I was wondering if I could go in for a quick look round”.

“I’m sorry sir. These grounds are only open to employees”.

“I don’t suppose it would make any difference if I told you I was the Lu – “

I broke off was because I saw the guy flick open the button of his gun holster.

“Sir, I’m going to have to have ask you to turn your car around and – “

“Yeah okay” I said, not waiting for him to finish.

Seconds later and I was on my way back to the football club again. Lots of questions were swirling around in my brain. Lots and lots of questions.

'Should have knocked him off the road. Could have done it if I'd wanted to'.

[ScottleeSV]

30/03/10, League Match 39

Luton Town v St Albans City

GK – Dean Brill (104 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (46 apps, 4 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (96 apps, 2 goals)

DC – George Pilkington (97 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Tony James (49 apps, 2 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (64 apps, 17 goals)

MC – Derek Niven (31 apps, 3 goals)

ML – Clint Easton (24 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Michael Taylor (32 apps, 1 goal)

FC – Michael Bridges (32 apps, 14 goals)

FC – Dean Bowditch (28 apps, 11 goals)

When I got back to the office yesterday I looked up Tokichi Robotics online. Turns out they do have a website but it’s under construction. No joy there then. There was a phone number available but that only took me through to a receptionist type who was unable to confirm if a Eugene Waldon works there or not. In fact she was unable to tell me anything about the firm or who else I could speak to who would know something. Complete waste of time.

There’s more to this than meets the eye, but first I’ve got a match to contend with. By the time I drove away from Pistol Pete yesterday there were less than twenty four hours until kick off. As a rule I don’t cope too well with match preparation and personal problems sharing the same airspace. Thus, for now one of them has to be relegated to the backburner.

The Luton Town selection merry-go-round continues to push people off just as quickly as it’s pulling them on. Although we were able to welcome back Daniels and Gnakpa, I was forced to rest Keane and Byrne. It wasn’t hard to diagnose Keane as needing timeout because he positively jumped on the offer when I suggested it. Bowditch was a solid choice ahead of Cadamateri up front on the back of his having scored three in two.

Earlier in the season we slaughtered St Albans 4-0 on their own patch. They’re a weak side for this division and should have provided for another three easy points today. Would it turn out that way though?

Well, let’s just say the first half is a tough one to dramatize. The blue and yellows of Albans began on the back foot and ended up somewhere even further back than the back foot, if that’s possible. The uncomfortable (for them) ride began in the second minute when Gate sliced over his own crossbar under very little pressure.

The corner was narrowly headed over by Pilkington. Statto Brian then quickly pointed out that Pilko scored in the previous game against The Saints.

On 9 minutes Taylor beat two men before curling in a cross too close to the keeper. Tardif mishandled it though and Bowditch was able to escape his man and attempt a finish from a tight angle. Sadly he couldn’t wrap enough foot around it. The side net bulged.

I could see the biggest problem in this game, perhaps the only problem, would be getting the opening goal. Dominant home teams usually break through eventually but those 0-1 defeats against Burton and Northwich at Kenilworth Road are still fresh in the memory. I could do without another before the season end, especially now we’re back on top again.

Tardif’s point blank block from Bridges in the 16th minute only re-enforced my fears. In the 27th however the Hertfordshire stopper wasn’t so lucky. Easton on the left showed some of the ball to Clarke before curling in an out-swinger. Hovering at the back of the pack was Taylor, whose downwards header bounced once and to the left of Tardif’s despairing dive and into the net. Goal.

It was relief rather than celebration that swept around the ground in response to this. Taylor briefly ran around with his shirt on his head and then jogged contentedly back to the halfway line. Despite being one of our best attacking players this season, this was only his second goal. I’d love to tell you who the other team he scored against was but I don’t have a Blackberry like Brian.

The response from St Albans was to err carry on defending resolutely. To be fair though, in the 31st minute Martin attempted a long ball over the top for lone striker Hakim to run onto. Hakim couldn’t get there and the ball bounced safely through to Brill. And that just about sums up the attacking achievements of the away side in the first half.

With the match this ill-balanced, it was only fair we’d get a second before the interval. 1-0 just didn’t do us justice. The Lord God agreed, and with the match ticking into its 45th minute, Nicholls accepted a sideways pass from Taylor and ran diagonally towards the area. He attempted a dink into the middle but Howell blocked it downwards to Nicholls again. This time The Skip just whacked it, still twenty five yards out.

The ball went down into the ground and fizzed past Tardif like a rocket into the far corner. Fantastic strike. Barely a minute later and the ref blew for half time. Very comfortable this now.

[ScottleeSV]

“Credit where credit’s due” I told the lads. “That was an excellent half of play. Keep it going in the second half; goal difference could be crucial come the end of the season. As much as you might all want to fill your boots though, I will be making subs quite soon in the second half. We’ve got another game in four days and I’ve got to be mindful of that”.

The beginning of the second half was nothing short of a stampede. I counted no fewer than four good attempts on goal in the first five minutes alone. Nicholls clipped the top of the bar with a drive, Bridges fired in a header which Tardif clawed away, Taylor miscued one wide, and Bowditch headed one across goal from a free kick which Martin had to head off the line.

Despite all the pressure however we failed to add their crucial third goal. I say crucial because 3-0 is the score-line I wanted us to get to before I made my subs. It’s easy to think 2-0 will be enough against a side seemingly incapable of attacking, but all it takes is one silly red card on our part for the dynamic to change. In the event that did happen, 2-0 would no longer feel safe. 3-0 would.

In the game at Clarence Park I noted how the St Albans manager seemed less interested in the game than he was talking on the phone to his mate. Today was no different..

“Nah mate he totally trashed it – took it to four garages but only one of them even gave him a quote – you what? – aw yeah totally – hang on a sec we’ve got a throw – yeah, well what I was saying was, you call me again after the game and we’ll try and get something sorted. Can’t do much now obviously – well that's it isn’t it? It’s just getting everyone down there – Yeah I can help with that – No problem – Absolutely”.

Once the initial onslaught was over, the second half ticked along gently until the 68th minute when man of the match Taylor got the ball down the right. Jellyman came in for the tackle but Taylor was operating on a completely different level. Competently performing a Ronaldo step over, Taylor jinked to Jellyman’s right and the defender hacked him down.

That was worth a booking and the crowd let the ref know it. As Jellyman had already been booked in the first half, this was a second yellow and a red to follow. Despite the easy nature of the fixture, the crowd still heckled Jellyman for all they were worth as he departed the field.

The game was effectively over now (barring a miracle), so in the 70th minute I made a triple substitution. On came Spencer for Bridges, Cadamateri for Taylor, and McCracken for Pilkington. Such was the scale of the overhaul, several minutes passed without anything happening whilst everyone got used to the new shape. St Albans also made some subs. Boss man even got off the phone to oversee the process.

82 minutes provided the miracle of a blue and yellow chance. Hakim, who seems to have a lot more to his game than many other Conference strikers, shrugged off two defenders before volleying from ten yards out. The ball dipped viciously onto the roof of the net with Brill beaten. Almost a shockingly undeserved consolation.

The final minutes after that though were all Luton. Easton came very close to adding the third before Niven’s bobbling shot almost bounced over a shaky Tardif a couple of minutes later. Were we really going to end this game with only a 2-0 win?

No. There were bonus rewards to be had for fans sticking with this to the end. It took until the 89th minute but St Albans’ long run, spanning 62 minutes, of not conceding, did finally end. It was a silly goal though. Daniels’ cross from the left was headed back across goal by Cadamateri. Connecting at the back post was Spencer. His header would have gone right across goal and beyond but Tardif stupidly deflected it into his own net. Own goal.

We weren’t done, or at least Spencer wasn’t. In the first minute of injury time Nicholls linked with Cadamateri and Bowditch to put together a wonderful move which ended with Spencer being played in on goal. The on-loan striker waited for the keeper to commit before sumptuously lifting the ball over him into the centre of the net. Icing on the cake.

Amazingly we almost got a fifth. Spencer picked up a knockdown on the edge of the box before curling a left footer just wide. We could then have won 5-0 having only been 2-0 ahead after 88 minutes. As it was, we had to settle for four.

It would do. Especially against this rabble.

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FINAL SCORE (att - 5451)

Luton Town 4 (Taylor 27, Nicholls 45, Tardiff o.g 89, Spencer 90)

St Albans City 0

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[size=2][font=Courier New]| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 1st   |       | Luton         |       | 39    | 25    | 8     | 6     | 82    | 42    | +40   | 83    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 2nd   |       | Grays         |       | 40    | 23    | 11    | 6     | 77    | 38    | +39   | 80    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 3rd   |       | Rushden       |       | 39    | 24    | 7     | 8     | 77    | 42    | +35   | 79    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 4th   |       | York          |       | 39    | 21    | 9     | 9     | 63    | 42    | +21   | 72    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 5th   |       | Salisbury     |       | 40    | 18    | 12    | 10    | 69    | 51    | +18   | 66    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 6th   |       | Oxford        |       | 40    | 19    | 8     | 13    | 77    | 52    | +25   | 65    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 7th   |       | Crawley       |       | 40    | 18    | 10    | 12    | [/font][/size][size=2][font=Courier New]64    | 57    | +7    | 64    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 8th   |       | Weymouth      |       | 40    | 17    | 12    | 11    | 62    | 47    | +15   | 63    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 9th   |       | Histon        |       | 39    | 16    | 12    | 11    | 64    | 50    | +14   | 60    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 10th  |       | Stevenage     |       | 39    | 16    | 12    | 11    | 71    | 64    | +7    | 60    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 11th  |       | AFC Wimbledon |       | 40    | 18    | 4     | 18    | 67    | 63    | +4    | 58    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 12th  |       | Kidderminster |       | 40    | 16    | 9     | 15    | 59    | 60    | -1    | 57    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 13th  |       | Cambridge     |       | 40    | 14    | 12    | 14    | 58    | 55    | +3    | 54    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 14th  |       | Forest Green  |       | 39    | 14    | 12    | 13    | 49    | 46    | +3    | 54    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 15th  |       | Burton        |       | 40    | 14    | 12    | 14    | 51    | 59    | -8    | 54    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 16th  |       | Mansfield     |       | 40    | 11    | 15    | 14    | 54    | 65    | -11   | 48    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 17th  |       | Woking        |       | 40    | 12    | 11    | 17    | 35    | 44    | -9    | 47    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 18th  |       | Tamworth      |       | 40    | 12    | 6     | 22    | 42    | 59    | -17   | 42    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 19th  |       | Macclesfield  |       | 40    | 10    | 11    | 19    | 42    | 64    | -22   | 41    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 20th  |       | Kettering     |       | 40    | 9     | 12    | 19    | 48    | 60    | -12   | 39    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 21st  |       | Northwich     |       | 40    | 9     | 10    | 21    | 39    | 68    | -29   | 37    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 22nd  |       | Ebbsfleet     |       | 40    | 8     | 12    | 20    | 30    | 60    | -30   | 36    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 23rd  |       | St Albans     |       | 40    | 6     | 8     | 26    | 35    | 85    | -50   | 26    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| 24th  |       | Droylsden     |       | 38    | 4     | 9     | 25    | 46    | 88    | -42   | 21    | [/font][/size]
[size=2][font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font][/size]

[michael62]

Nice Win nice to see you got Luton top of the league. we lost yesterday in the fa trophy semi final Thanks to the worst ref I have ever seen Cheating **** giving them a dodgy pen in the last 3 mins of extra time we had 9 men for the whole of extra time and Luton were immense we played sooo well against Mansfield and the Ref who gave us nothing and them everything including a pen which none of their player appealed for. Even though we lost IM so proud to be a hatter today. We may not agree with some of the decisions our manager makes and their are some fans who want him to go but yesterday finally players mangment and fans are now united and I think the robbery yesterday will help inspire us to win promotion COYH !!!

[ScottleeSV]

Hey mate. I hope the real Luton go up this time. Some tough sides in the playoff places though

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March 2010 round-up of the other divisions

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Premiership

Top – Chelsea (68), Arsenal (62), Man Utd (60), Liverpool (59), Man City (55), Middlesbrough (48), Tottenham (41)

Bottom – Aston Villa (36), West Ham (35), Sunderland (34), Wigan (33), Bolton (28), Ipswich (27), Charlton (24), Stoke (18)

The Blues have maintained their six point lead at the top but Man Utd have made up some ground. Other than that, the summit hasn’t changed that much. Fernando Torres of Liverpool still tops the goal-scoring charts with 17.

At the bottom Stoke are still cut adrift. The one big change is Ipswich replacing Bolton in the relegation zone.

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Championship

Top – Portsmouth (83), Wolves (70), Fulham (67), Leeds (67), Cardiff (66), Q.P.R (65), Birmingham (64), Bristol City (64)

Bottom – Millwall (45), Doncaster (44), Leicester (44), Southampton (44), Preston (43), Burnley (43), Plymouth (43), Sheff Utd (42)

Portsmouth’s massive lead just got even more massive. It’s gone from 9 to 13 points since the end of last month. Birmingham have plummeted from third to seventh over the course of March and will now probably have to settle for a playoff place. Any one of several clubs though could still claim second.

Relegation from this division is looking increasingly like one big lottery. The bottom eight clubs are separated by just 3. Top scorer in the league is 25 year old uncapped Spanish striker Guillem Bauza of Swansea; he has 19 strikes.

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League One

Top – Norwich (89), Blackpool (79), Brighton (68), Crystal Palace (67), Carlisle (67), Southend (66), Huddersfield (62)

Bottom – Shrewsbury (49), Hartlepool (48), Bradford (46), Stockport (43), Scunthorpe (41), Oldham (39), Rochdale (36), Darlington (21)

In this league Norwich are almost as dominant as Portsmouth. Second place is practically wrapped up too, so it looks like Blackpool can look forward to second tier football next season. Leader in the golden boot competition is Shrewsbury’s Grant Holt with 23 goals.

Down at the bottom, the misery continues unchecked at The George Reynolds Arena. Darlington now trail the rest by fifteen points. It’s rather a strange one because they were an excellent side last season when we played them. Rochdale’s stay in League One also continues to look as though it will be short lived.

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League Two

Top – Port Vale (76), Morecambe (74), Gillingham (71), Cheltenham (68), Notts County (64), Exeter (63), Aldershot (61), Bury (60)

Bottom – Grimsby (51), Torquay (51), Barnet (51), Chester (48), Dag & Red (40), Wycombe (38), Wrexham (38), Brentford (35)

A far more competitive promotion race this one with a few changes to report since last month. Morecambe have overtaken Gillingham in second place. Further down, Lincoln and Walsall have dropped out of the playoff zone to be replaced by Aldershot and Bury. Leading marksman is still O’Carroll of Morecambe. He has a fantastic 28 goal total.

Changes at the foot too. Brentford have dropped from fourth bottom to bottom, and must now face up to the real possibility of relegation to the Conference. Wrexham still occupy the other hot spot with Wycombe and Dagenham & Redbridge also in trouble.

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Blue Square North

Top – Altrincham (64), Southport (61), Hinckley (59), Fleetwood (59), Stafford (57), Barrow (55), Blyth (53), Harrogate (53)

Bottom – Alfreton (46), Gainsborough (45), Worcester (44), Workington (40), Solihull Moors (37), Kings Lynn (36), Leigh Genesis (17)

It was an excellent March for Altrincham. The Manchester side have overtaken pretenders Hinckley to go top, with the Leicestershire side falling to third below Southport. Stafford were the other big movers, advancing from mid table to a place in the playoffs. Top sharpshooter is Stalybridge’s Nathan Joynes with 22 goals.

If you thought Darlington were bad, you ain’t seen Leigh! They trail the next club up by a whopping nineteen points. They have been quite simply appalling and are going down. Kings Lynn continue to disappoint.

----------

Blue Square South

Top – Chelmsford (72), Braintree (60), Welling (59), Eastbourne (59), Hampton & Richmond (58), Dorchester (58), Bromley (57), Lewes (55)

Bottom – Bath City (45), Fisher (45), Weston Super Mare (45), Bishops Stortford (39), Merthyr (39), Farnborough (34), Sutton United (31), Ashton of Middlesex (16)

The only way is Essex. Chelmsford and Braintee continue to occupy first and second spots, although the latter will have to settle for a playoff place. Very little has changed at the top of Conference South since last month. Pacquette of Maidenhead now leads the scoring charts on his own with 18.

You can write off Ashford at the bottom now, and probably Sutton too. Farnborough might still have an outside chance of survival but need to go on a good run NOW. This truly has been a shocking season for promoted clubs. Many fans on Tony Kempster.com have voiced their disapproval of the widening gap between standards of Blue Square South clubs and those from the Ryman.

Daniel Leeway, 19, had this to say – “The clubs at Step six are getting richer whilst those at Step seven are getting poorer! It’s just a horrible world and I hate it”.

[ScottleeSV]

01/04/10 - Eugenius

Last season you might remember me mention my trip to a spy shop in the centre of town. I bought something called an ear drum communication kit from there, and used it to hand Cyril his only deathmatch defeat in about five thousand six hundred and seventy matches. Something like that. A few months afterwards I went back to the same shop to ask advice on how I might break into Dave’s safe (although I ended up simply guessing the combination).

Today was my third visit. I wanted to ask proprietor Eddie Lucketti if he knew anything about Tokichi Robotics. If anybody would know about the world of robot technologies, you’d figure the owner of a spy shop would, wouldn’t you?

“Yeah I’ve heard of Tokichi Robotics” Eddie informed me. He was leaning over the front of the counter twiddling a red pen around in his fingers.

“Brilliant!” I replied.

“But I don’t know anything about them or what they do”.

“Oh”.

“I could probably guess a few things about them though, just from applying some very simple logic”.

“Such as?”

Eddie exhaled and switched the pen to his other hand. I wondered if maybe it was one of those exploding pens I saw once in a Bond film. Probably not, common sense dictated.

“Well, if there’s nothing about them online like you say there isn’t, and if they were unwilling to speak to you on the phone, chances are they probably don’t sell whatever it is they make direct to the public. Exactly what they do though, God knows. Could be anything from war applications to spy shop crap like what I sell.

“Having said that, if it was small time domestic stuff they were making, the easy stuff, they’d need to advertise in order to attract the attention of retailers like me. So with that in mind, I’m thinking more along the lines of military or navy. Or maybe power station applications, if domestic. Or maybe they’re a hidden arm of Microsoft. Who knows? Like I said, could be anything. Why so interested?”

Now it was my turn to exhale. I followed that up by telling Eddie about Eugene, the whole story, top to bottom.

“Sounds like you got yourself a stalker” he commented.

“Do you think – do you think Eugene might be testing some kind of brand new spy surveillance thing out on me?”

“Doesn’t sound likely. Although I wouldn’t rule anything out, especially if you’re adamant you don’t know him from Adam”.

“I don't”.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to settle on a ‘most likely reason’ for Eugene’s behaviour.

One theory I had was that Eugene was Stuart’s geeky younger brother, acting on orders to shadow me and get a feel for what sort of bloke I am. Or maybe he was just a general acquaintance of his from somewhere? If Stuart was army, and Eugene worked for a firm that designed stuff for the army, maybe that was how they knew each other?

It had also crossed my mind that Eugene might actually be Stuart. But that would mean Chantelle would have had to have slept with Eugene, and not in a million years would that have happened. It was likely as Stacy Potts falling for Cyril.

And who was to say this had anything to do with Chantelle anyway? I still spend half of every week sleeping at my own place. What if Eugene doesn’t know the location of my flat, and that’s why he's only been stalking me at Chantelle’s, because it’s the only residence of mine that he knows? It’s possible.

I also have to keep in mind it’s not been terribly long since I was reunited with my real father. Could Eugene be some kind of long lost brother?

‘Oh God, please not that!’

Sometimes when I was a kid I fantasised about having a brother, but what I came up with was nothing like Eugene. He was more like Darren actually, someone I could have a laugh with and compete on an equal footing with at sports and computer games.

The bottom line is, I guess, I'm simply not going to get to the bottom of it until I confront Eugene. Unfortunately.

“Hey” Eddie said, bringing me back from thoughtsville. “You’re not thinking of breaking into Tokichi Robotics are you? Because if you are, I’ve got one or two things you’re gonna need!”

“Thanks Q, but if I go to prison then you’ll lose my once a year trade, and I would hate for that to happen”.

“Yeah okay good point”.

Shaking my head I turned to leave. Halfway to the door though I spun around to satisfy my curiosity about that damn red pen.

“What does that pen do, Eddie? Apart from write, I mean. It’s been bugging me ever since I came in”.

“This? Oh. This is really cool. It produces – wait for it - invisible ink”.

“Right” I replied deadpan, as Eddie held the pen up next to his grinning moustache. “Cool. Well, see ya later then”.

“Yeah take it easy, James”.

[ScottleeSV]

02/04/10 - Reviving the legend

I’ve never been one to go weak at the knees at the thought of meeting celebrities. It wouldn’t matter to me if it was Alex Ferguson, Maggie Thatcher, Kermit the Frog, or whoever. To me they’re just people. The only difference is, most of them have been on the telly a lot and are a lot richer.

As I sat in Erica’s office waiting for Paul McCartney to turn up today, I pondered that just maybe Erica herself felt exactly the same as I did. She didn’t seem nervous, ruffled, or fidgety. She hadn’t dressed up beyond the norm. She was just completely as she always was – gorgeous but ice cool.

“He’s one minute late” she said irritably, checking her gold Rolex after a long silence.

“Maybe his yellow submarine got stuck in traffic?” I offered. Erica just stared at me blankly.

“I’m not just some studio producer he can mess around whenever the mood takes – “

“Shush!” I interrupted, holding my hand up. “I think I can hear someone out in the corridor”.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, footsteps could be heard. Accompanying them was the sound of someone clicking their fingers and singing.

“Love, love me do!” sang the voice. “You know I love you! – I’ll always be true! – So pleeeeeeeease - love me do!”

And then his head appeared around the door. Paul McCartney: music legend and one time singer with The Beatles. He looked a lot more old and wrinkly than I remembered from the newspapers, but it was definitely him alright. He was a dressed in a dark blue suit and black tie today.

“Come in” Erica said stoically.

“Not late am I?” Paul asked, stepping gingerly forwards. He’d stopped singing now.

“Not at all” I butted in (before Erica could get in there with something rude).

The three of us came together in the centre of the room and shook hands. Then Erica directed everyone to a seat back at the desk, Erica behind it with me and Paul out front.

“Right” Paul began, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a scrap of paper. “I don’t have long today but I have done a lot of work on the song. I’ve had a bit of help in writing the lyrics because I’m not the most knowledgeable when it comes to football, and especially when it comes to Luton’s team”.

“That’s okay” I told him. “What have you got?”

“Well, it’s a cover version of the Beatles hit – She Loves You”.

“I think I know that one”.

“Me too” Erica announced.

“Well, out of all the tunes in my back catalogue that was one of the few that seemed to lend itself as a football anthem. You’ll see what I mean when you see the lyrics”.

With a gleam in his eye he handed me the scrap of paper. Not singing out loud as I went, I began to read.

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah yeah!

You think you’ve lost your love.

But I saw us yesterday

It’s Pleat I’m thinking of

He showed us how to play

Because we’re Luton!

And you know that can’t be bad.

Yeah we’re Luton.

And we're on the long way back!

The F.A hurt us so

We almost lost our minds

But soon they’ll realise

We’re not the quitting types

Because we’re Luton!

And you know that can’t be bad

Yeah we’re Luton

And we're on the long way back

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah

With support like ours

You know we shouldn’t be bad.

And now it’s up to you

Cheer us across the line

Wear the shirt with pride

And make our town feel fine

Because we’re Luton

And you know that can’t be bad

Yeah we’re Luton

And we're on the long way back

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah

We’re Luton yeah yeah yeah

With support like ours

You know we should be glad

With support like ours

We know we shouldn’t be bad

With support like ours

We know we should be glad

Yeah yeah yeah (to fade)

Once I was done I passed the lyrics to Erica. I had to admit that in my head at least, it didn’t sound half bad. It was certainly a better effort than what Prairie had come up with. Then again, The cheeky Girls probably would have made a better fist of it than old Prairie.

“Yeah that could work” Erica eventually admitted, handing the scrap of paper back to its owner. I guess that’s as close to a compliment as she goes.

“What do you think?” Paul asked me.

“Yeah it reads well to me. I’ve no objections to giving this a try. So what happens now?”

“Well, I’ll get back in touch over the next couple of days and we’ll discuss booking some studio time”.

“Works for us”.

“Excellent”.

So that was that. I was tempted to offer Sir Paul a coffee but thought Erica would secretly balk at the idea, so I didn’t. She was tolerating this song business rather than embracing it, I rationalized.

Moments later and we were all saying our goodbyes at the door. McCartney said he would see himself out. No sooner had the door closed did the singing and finger clicking start up again as he walked away.

“Eleanor Rigby! – picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been – lives in a dreeeeam”.

Bless the old fool.

[mametz1536]

Paul Macartney or the cheeky girls, what a choice. I know which one would punch my ticket. Brillant story mate, if i had a hat i'll take it off.

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks as aways, Mametz

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

03/04/10 - Storming the fort

I had a new ground to go to today. Tamworth FC play in Staffordshire, living largely in the shadow of the major Birmingham clubs. They play at The Lamb Ground and are nicknamed The Lambs. The ground isn’t terribly impressive. One small seated stand runs up one side. On the other lies what can only be described as a shed running most of the length of the field. Away fans are discouraged from entered this shed. I doubt too many protest.

Behind one goal is some reasonable terracing, but up the other is just a naff little brick walkway. On the whole then this is definitely a place at the lower end of the Conference National market. I can’t believe for a second Tamworth would be allowed in the football league if they finished top. Not that they will. At the moment they’re 18th in the table and battling against relegation.

The club don’t have a major pedigree in football. The only reached the fifth tier as recently as 2003, and since then have dropped down to the Conference North only to bounce back up again. They did enjoy two bumper runs in the FA Cup though, going all the way to the third round proper two seasons in a row in 2006 and 2007. They also contested the 2003 FA Trophy final only to fall foul of Burscough. That's not an easy accomplishment that (losing to Burscough).

Tamworth the town has a population of 75000. I didn’t think there would be much to see and do but I coped. Drayton Manor Park is on the fringe of Tamworth; I hadn’t previously known that. I went for a look around but didn’t go on any rides. It wouldn’t have been any fun without company. It’s not as good as Alton Towers anyway, at first glance.

Once done there I headed for Tamworth Castle. It was more like a fort on closer inspection, situated on the top of a hill to best protect against invaders. I guess there’s a parallel here to the football club. Tamworth FC are like a small fort in an area full of grand castles, doggedly defending themselves with inferior resources to their neighbours.

Now for some team news. Richie Byrne has injured himself and will be out for two or three weeks. That might not sound a lot on the surface but when you’re constantly playing games every two to four days, it suddenly casts a different perspective entirely. For the time being then, Daniels continues at left back and Easton gets a longer run in that left midfield position.

My only other changes were tiredness related. Cadamateri and Nicholls returned today but Bowditch and James dropped to the sidelines. In terms of personnel I would deem as belonging to the second string, Niven was relegated to make way for Nicholls but McCracken got a game because of James’ absence. It was a strong line-up though, on the whole, I thought.

Earlier in the season we beat Tamworth 3-1 at Kenilworth Road. Dikuiza gave The Lambs an early advantage before a Bridges treble put us firmly in the box seat by half time.

“This match is a brilliant chance to keep the momentum going” I told the players before kick-off. “We’ve hit top spot again at just the right time. Now we have to stay there. We know we’re a better side than this lot. We’ve just got to go out there and show it”.

I neglected to mention Grays and Rushden in my speech. Both had winnable games today. Grays were facing Macclesfield at home and Rushden were travelling to Kettering. All three of us then had games against teams from the lower echelons.

“You’ll have a bigger support than them out there so use it. Treat it like a home game. Be aggressive. Be attacking. Don’t sit back playing yourself in. We’ve got nothing to worry about from Tamworth. Even when they caught us early last time, we still had enough to roll them over by half time. So there it is. Go out and be the champions I know you can be”.

As we took the field to Never Forget by Take That, I surmised that the passion from our fans was a lot more pronounced than it had been for our last away outing at Cambridge. It’s as if that win has given everyone around the club the belief we really can win this league at the first time of asking.

We’ll just have to see, I guess.

Seven matches to go, beginning with this one. Seven matches. Six hundred and thirty minutes. Twenty one points to play for. On we go.

[michael62]

SOUTHPORT 2-1 LUTON TOWN

I can't believe it we were outplayed by a team one place above relegation zone !!!

[ScottleeSV]

The trouble with real life Luton at the moment is, you're in that zone where you've got no chance of winning the title but very little chance of dropping out of the playoffs. Thus, you're just not going to play with maximum focus. Come the actual playoff matches though, I fully expect better results.

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

03/04/10, League Match 40

Tamworth v Luton Town

GK - Dean Brill (105 apps, 0 goals)

DL - Charlie Daniels (47 apps, 4 goals)

DR - Claude Gnakpa (97 apps, 2 goals)

DC - George Pilkington (98 apps, 4 goals)

DC - David McCracken (34 apps, 1 goal)

DMC - Kevin Nicholls (65 apps, 18 goals)

MC - Keith Keane (89 apps, 11 goals)

ML - Clint Easton (25 apps, 1 goal)

MR - Michael Taylor (33 apps, 2 goals)

FC - Michael Bridges (33 apps, 14 goals)

FC - Danny Cadamateri (36 apps, 11 goals)

It was almost as if the naff ground fooled us into believing the hosts would play naff. Barely two minutes were on the clock when Millar got some space down the left. First he pretended he was going to cross on his left foot, then on his right. Then he went the other way again and swung a loopy one in towards Atkin in the middle. The Luton backline were all at sea and Atkin had a golden chance to volley the ball from barely eight yards out!

He spooned it over the top. Okay, not an easy finish, but still a chance. The miss made me wonder where Dikuiza was, the guy who scored against us at Kenilworth Road. A glance across at the Tamworth bench told me he was a sub, as he had boots and a raincoat on. Interesting.

Just recently we seem to have benefitted from a spate of own goals. First came those two from Kidderminster’s Ikeme in the same match. Then against St Albans, Tardif put one over the line for us. All three of the aforementioned were from goalkeepers. In this game we finally enjoyed one from an outfield player.

Strangely, said outfield player was striker Shaw. It was the 9th minute and we’d just begun to establish ourselves on the game. Our midfield were spreading the ball from side to side well and we were pinning The Lambs back in their own half. Eventually, after much dancing around by Taylor near the corner flag, the winger swung in a rare left footed cross and Shaw accidently glanced into the far corner.

That’s why defenders should defend and attackers attack, I suppose. The Luton players didn’t fully commit to the celebrations afterward. Two or three guys patted Taylor on the shoulder but that was about it. Too early in the day for a pile-on.

The surface at Tamworth looks decidedly worse for wear on the back of eight straight months of use. This was to our benefit in the 16th minute when we doubled the lead. For the amount of deflections that led to the goal, it might as well have been another o.g. Taylor was again the provider from the right. I couldn’t tell you who did and didn’t touch the ball after that, only that eventually Cadamateri rammed it high into the net from three yards out.

This time the players celebrated as wildly as the supporters. I didn’t. The moment was just too easy. It hadn’t been earned after a long hard toil. That’s not to say I wasn’t delighted; I just didn’t have the same fire running through me I had when we were scoring those second half goals at Cambridge.

In the 20th minute the third was just a whisker a way. We actually played some football to get into position too. Easton, Nicholls, Keane, and Cadamateri all combined to eventually slip one into Easton behind the defence. Unfortunately he was a bit nonchalant with the finish and nudged it a foot past the far post, Wilkinson in the goals a mere spectator.

To my eye the pitch at The Lamb Ground is marginally sloped. We were shooting in the downwards direction first half so I really did fancy getting that third. Does a slight slope make any difference at this level of the game? I don’t know. I don’t see sloped grounds terribly often. Tamworth incidentally used to play at somewhere called The Jolly Sailor Ground, a bizarre name for a place in the Midlands.

Chances for Luton continued. Bridges headed frustratingly over in the 22nd minute when it was easier to score. Then Keane hit a pass back shot into the keeper’s arm from 25 yards – that was in the 25th minute. A pair of 25’s for Keane. Credit to him for having not happy-slapped Shaw after the own goal though.

Tamworth finally got back on the chances train on the half hour. A good little bit of passing ended with Wright curling one towards goal from about sixteen yards. Brill had to be alert to tip it around. The corner wasn’t effective but there ended up three of them in succession. Plenty of nerves for a couple of minutes there as we eventually cleared all three. The third was diagonally hit up the field for a throw.

As befitting the overall balance of play, it was we who struck last before half time. Bridges took on a low ball from Keane before sidestepping Smith. His left foot blaster was fierce but Wilkinson proved to be a triple sword protector, beating it away to the sidelines.

There was just time for Easton to be booked for practically nothing. Okay, we hadn’t completely put the game to bed, and Tamworth still had to shoot downslope in the second period, but this was still a crucially effective half of football. I couldn’t have asked for any more.

[ScottleeSV]

“Be careful second half, boys. They’ll have the slope second half and you can rest assured they’ll know all the nooks and crannies on it. Eyes and ears open at the back, and up the other end, try and get that third goal if you can. Remember, 2-0 is a dangerous lead but – “

“- 3-0 is pipe, slippers, and a biscuit” Keane finished. “Yeah yeah, you’ve said that before”.

“Well I’m saying it again!”

“It’s a bit of an old fashioned saying, don't you think?” Clint Easton put forward. “Where do you get it from? I mean nobody smokes a pipe anymore, and nobody wears slippers either”.

“Hey! I wear slippers” Brian protested.

“Okay fine” I told Clint. “I’ll change it to cigarettes, footstool, and a biscuit”.

“Not best to use cigarettes”, this from Nicholls. “Not politically correct. Kids might get influenced”.

“Okay, chewing gum, footstool, and a biscuit. Can we get back to talking about the second half now?”

Silence from everyone.

“Good! Now then, Brian noticed one or two sly things their number six has been getting up to whenever – “

“How can you chew gum and eat a biscuit at the same time?” McCracken interrupted.

“Well if you think about it how can you smoke a pipe and eat a biscuit?” I retorted. “For God's sake it's just a saying. It's not meant to be analysed and torn apart. If I had to guess, I think the idea is that you’re smoking a pipe at 3-0 but your biscuit’s on the saucer next to the chair ready to be eaten whenever. It's still there in the room though".

Jesus Christ Almighty.

Predictably there was a Tamworth rally at the start of the second half, not that it generated much in the way of chances. Our defence was standing very tall today, even in the absence of Byrne and James. Osborne whacked one just over from distance in the 48th. However apart from that it was all huff, puff, and balls comfortably collected by Brill.

A bit of farce took place on 49 minutes. Some of the Luton fans spilled onto the side of the pitch. I’m not entirely sure why; it didn’t follow a goal or a moment of controversy. It just seemed to happen and that was that. A couple of minutes were wasted whilst stewards and police shunted the fans in question back into place.

51 minutes and a chance for Bridges. Yes, another one. This time a cross went in from the Easton side. The goalkeeper was caught square but Bridges had to twist his head slightly backwards to get the required purchase on it. As such he couldn’t get much power on the ball and Wilkinson managed to scramble across the line and save it. He even held onto it.

A quiet period ensued. Whilst that was taking place, Brian and I consulted in length over substitutions. Eventually we threw two on at the same time. This was just after the 65 minute mark. On went James and Niven for McCracken and Nicholls. Tamworth responded by sending Dikuiza and Hall-Cousins into the fray.

The game continued to be rather dull as a spectacle. The Lambs simply weren’t very good at conjuring things in the final third. For our part, we just seemed a bit unenthused at the prospect of charging up that slope to score goals we didn’t need to score. In the 72nd minute I gave Bowditch some pitch time in place of Bridges.

A quick check of Brian’s Blackberry showed that both Grays and Rushden were drawing 0-0. As things stood, we were going to pull further clear at the top. You know what they say about counting chickens though.

Dikuiza wasn’t making much of an impact. He took on a half-hearted snapshot in the 74th minute but it didn’t go anywhere near the goals. Derek Niven did better with his attempted long ranger in the 75th. The ball dipped just over the left stanchion and the ball-boy standing back there produced a great little catch above his head.

As the final stretch of minutes came to pass, many of the 800 or so home fans began to file out of the exits early. I guess they were half fed up with how the game was going and half worried about getting blocked in on their way out. This was surely one of if not THE biggest crowd they would have seen all season. Chances were that the local parking capacity was stretched to its limits.

The fact I’ve even started talking about parking spaces just shows how uninteresting the final third of the game was. There was however one more goal prior to the end. Man on form Bowditch connected fantastically with a sideways pass from Nicholls, swiping the ball low under Wilkinson for 3-0. Best goal of the match.

When the final whistle went, I was thoroughly contented. We’ve now won three on the bounce, two of them away from home. We’ve also won all three by more than one goal.

-----------

FINAL SCORE (att - 1896)

Tamworth 0

Luton Town 3 (Shaw o.g 9, Cadamateri 16, Bowditch 90+1)

-----------

(other results)

Cambridge 4-3 Mansfield

Forest Green 4-3 Ebbsfleet

Grays 0-0 Macclesfield

Kettering 1-0 Rushden

Salisbury 1-0 Burton

St Albans 1-0 Kidderminster

Weymouth 0-0 Histon

Woking 0-2 Oxford

York 3-2 Northwich

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

(top of table after 40/46 of our games)

1 - Luton (86)

2 - Grays (80)

3 - Rushden (80)

4 - York (75)

5 - Salisbury (69)

6 - Oxford (68)

7 - Weymouth (64)

8 - Crawley (64)

[ScottleeSV]

03/04/10 - The girl who played with fire

When Eugene left Tokichi Robotics at approximately 9.40pm this evening, the coast would have looked clear, just as it had done the previous two nights. What’s more, Luton had been playing up at Tamworth a few hours previously. That dastardly Martin wouldn’t come back here the same day he had an away match to contend with, surely?

Three hundred yards further down the industrial estate though was a situation that presented a dilemma. A car was hanging off the side of the curb with its hood raised and smoke coming from the interior. Eugene wouldn’t have been able to see the person standing behind the hood, but he would have been able to see that the car was a light shade of red. Martin’s car was a different colour entirely, so whoever this was having the trouble, it certainly couldn't be Martin.

Even so, a lot of people suffering bouts of paranoia might have driven past anyway, not wanting to tempt fate. Eugene wasn’t one of those. To him the broken car was a robot in need of help, and you didn’t abandon robots in need of help. Not if you were a guy like him (at least, that was my reading of his psychology).

What Eugene didn’t know was that the big broken robot belonged to a rental agency. It wasn’t even broken; the smoke was coming from a caveman style torch made out of wood and kerosene. Once Eugene exited his vehicle and walked around the side of the hood, I threw the torch away and grabbed him by his shirt. Then I forced him backwards around the side of the car and against one of the backseat doors.

“Hello Eugene” I said, eyes glaring.

“No!” he said. “Let me go! Please. I haven’t done anything to you!”

“Not except stalk me, no. Time to spill the beans. Why have you been following me around?”

“I haven’t! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes you bloody well do! You’ve been hiding out outside my girlfriend’s house at night, and you’ve also been pretending to be a football scout. You’re not a proper scout though are you, Eugene?”

He looked scared, which was good, I suppose. The way his big fat face shifted uncomfortably from side to side reminded me of a little baby. Another car was about to pass us so I quickly dragged him around to the other side where we couldn’t so easily be seen.

“You’ve got precisely ten seconds to tell all, Eugene, or I’m going to start breaking fingers”.

“But you’re a football manager!”

“I’m also psychotic, Eugene. Look at my eyes”.

Opening them as wide as I could, I also let out a low growl similar to a vicious dog. Eugene squealed and gasped.

“Okay okay! I’ll tell you”.

“Go on then”.

Giving him a chance, I now changed tack completely. I not only relinquished my grip I pretended to swipe some dust from his jacket. Plenty of it was blowing around these parts, I could see. Isn’t it always the way with industrial parks?

“I used to be with Chantelle” he blubbered, taking me by surprise. “I’m Luke’s dad”.

A pause. Eugene’s nose twitched. Somewhere behind me, a piece of machinery began to clank.

“Pull the other one!”

“It’s the truth! Look”.

Hands shaking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Then he produced some crumpled photographs that had been bent over several times so they could fit inside.

All showed various combinations of him, Chantelle, and Luke. One had even been taken at the hospital. A fresh faced Chantelle, probably barely out of school by this point, was sat inside her maternity bed with baby Luke in her arms. Eugene meanwhile was leaning over the bed with his arm awkwardly around her shoulder.

Another family portrait showed the three of them down by the canal, feeding ducks. Another one was just Eugene and Luke, the former reading the latter a bedtime story. And so on and so on. There was no doubt about it though, Eugene was telling the truth. My predetermined opinion that Chantelle would never have looked twice at this guy had been wrong.

I gave the pictures back and took some steps towards the nearby fence. Eugene didn’t try and run.

“She’s always told me his dad was a soldier called Stuart” I said aloud. “Obviously that was made up”.

“No I think he’s real” Eugene replied. “I think he’s an ex. He’s not Luke’s dad though”.

“Tell me about you and Chantelle. How did it start and how did it end?”

I turned back towards him, hands on hip. My aggressive look was gone.

“We met when she was in her last year at high school. I was a guest lecturer in the technology class a few times, showing off various things. We got talking and I managed to get her a guest pass to come and see my studio at the firm. After that, things progressed really quick. We started hanging out, you know, dating and stuff. Then she got pregnant. We were both really happy about it, but after a while she kept making excuses not to see me anymore.

“Eventually, near the birth I demanded to know where I stood and she didn’t react very well to it. We had a massive argument and she told me she didn’t want to see me anymore. She said it wasn’t working out. I didn’t understand though. I hadn’t done anything wrong! Anyway, after Luke was born she changed her mind a little bit and agreed to let me see him once a week. She insisted I pay lots of maintenance, but I didn’t mind that, I guess. I’m pretty well off, you see”.

“Go on” I told him, responding to a lengthy pause. Eugene had started to stare up at the sky with a smile as if he was remembering some long lost happy moment.

“Well, I watched on for years as she went out with various blokes. I think that Stuart guy you mentioned might have been one of them. I’ll tell you what though, you’re first she’s ever told me about in lots of detail, and that was when I knew she’d met someone she considers to be ‘the one’. I’ll admit it me hurt me a little and – I don’t know – I guess I got this crazy idea about getting to know you somehow and finding out what kind of guy you were that she would like you so much. I wanted to be like you".

I’d heard enough, and I held my hand up to indicate as much.

Turning on my heels again I walked up to the fence and stared through the gaps. So Eugene was a mostly harmless geek who’d been shunned by a woman (probably the only one he’d ever pulled) and was jealous of the new guy? Deary me.

More to the point, Chantelle had lied to me. Again. As much as it pained me to admit it, it was probably time to pull the plug on the relationship. Too many issues and complications. As crazy as it sounds though, the prospect of ending it feels a lot easier now we’re likely to win the league.

[ScottleeSV]

04/04/10 - Second yellow

I gave myself a cooling off period of twenty fours, just in case I felt like changing my mind. If anything though, the delay only further increased my desire to go through with it. So, earlier this evening I went around to Chantelle’s and gave her the news. It wasn’t a pretty conversation. What made it worse was that Luke was still up and about when I turned up. I had to hold in what I wanted to say until he’d gone to bed.

Chantelle’s reaction was a mixture of protest and resignation. She seemed indecisive as to whether what I was doing was fair or the actions of a complete pig. The reason I’m not reprinting highlights of the conversation is that I really don’t feel like reliving it again. Writing my diary is meant to be therapeutic, not stressful.

The whole issue of fairness stayed on my mind for quite a while after I left her apartment. Are my actions fair? I think so. Is it even important that I’m fair? In the event Chantelle hadn’t ever lied to me, would I have been morally obliged to stay with her permanently? Surely not.

I have to keep in mind that, once upon a time, Chantelle dumped Eugene for seemingly no reason. If she can do that to someone then she can’t moan too much when someone does it to her, right? I’m going to keep that thought close by so I don’t feel too guilty.

It’s a shame for little Luke, of course. I’ve spent over six months (more or less) getting to know him, and I’m now I’m going to be disappearing forever with probably no explanation given. Is that a tough thing for a seven year old to suffer? I don’t know. I’m going to try not to think about it too much. He’s not that unlucky a kid anyway; he’s got a dad who loves him and wants to see him a lot. Some kids get a far worse hand dealt to them.

Once I got back home I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt wired. I tried watching a film, playing a game, doing some online scouting, and none it felt right for the moment. I needed to go out and have a drink. Not because I felt sad but simply because a big moment in my life had just happened and I need to idly reflect on it.

I didn’t go to The Hatters Arms because there’s too much potential there for club employees to join your table. Neither did I venture to The Haunted Cow; the prospect of Prairie Dog recounting some old tale about some farm girl he ditched God knows when over God knows what, only to feel the need to write a song about her thirty years later and stick it on a LP no-one’s ever going to listen to, didn’t have me rushing for my coat and shoes.

Instead then I got a cab into the town centre and went somewhere entirely random. The reason I didn’t drive was in case I ended up staying for more than one beer. In the end though I did only have one. It was a slowly consumed one but one never the less.

Supping up, I nodded at the landlord and went out to the street again. The East Side Dojo wasn’t far from here. Acting on the spur of the moment, I headed over there. I had no intention of going inside. It would be closed now anyway. What I could do though was stand outside the window for a few moments and read some of the flyers.

Right after I got there, I spotted a small light coming from inside. It was almost entirely dark inside the large indoor fighting arena, but there was this one little impression of light coming from – where? Somewhere from beyond that door on the opposite wall, if I had to guess. It was very faint from where I was standing, mind.

I suddenly had a crazy idea to try the outer doors. My curiosity had got the better of me here and I wanted to investigate. Glancing around to check that nobody else was on the street, I edged my way over to the door and tried it to see if it opened.

It was unlocked!

Now I slowly wandered inside, first through the foyer area and then into the main dojo room. The light was clearer now. It looked like the flicker of firelight. Whatever it was it was coming from that backroom I’ve sometimes seen Eagle disappear in and out of. Feeling more than a hint of trepidation, I walked over to the door and pushed it open.

Inside was a man sat cross-legged on the floor. It was Bear. He was sat in front of some kind of portable fire, the sort that unadventurous types take on camping trips. It had a circular basin. On a little grill next to the basin was a funny coloured bowl of liquid.

“Hi” I said weakly, not quite sure what I’d stumbled across.

Almost in a daze, Bear turned his head slowly to face me.

[ScottleeSV]

05/04/10 - Spark out

“Sit, Skunk” he instructed. I wasn’t going to argue.

“What you up to?” I asked, opting to sit about seventy degrees to his left around the side of the portable fire.

“I am caressing my inner fortitude”.

“What do you mean by – “

“Silence!”

There was a lot of excess energy coming out of that blue karate robe right now, I’ll tell you that much. Bear was sweating profusely. His eyes were wider than even mine had been when confronting Eugene. Like a deranged priest he extended his arms now over the top of the fire. Then he began to mumble in an unintelligible language.

But for the attire, he reminded me of Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom at the point Indy temporarily becomes a whack-job and starts spouting nonsense.

It took half a minute of this for me to realise that Bear’s eyes were focused on the picture of Brute blue-tacked to the back wall. It was still there from when I’d last visited. The reason I hadn’t noticed it when coming in was because the candles beneath the picture were unlit.

“I still have not found this man” Bear whispered, finally reverting to plain English again. “For a long time we have looked to avenge Llama’s beating, and for long time we have been unsuccessful in this. Normally, when a mortal incurs the wrath of the dojo, retribution is swift. And if we cannot find the mortal, the spirits and ghosts of our ancestors show us the way. In this case however we have been shown no path. Why is this, I wonder?”

It crossed my mind to suggest that maybe the spirits and ghosts had been angered by the dojo somehow, and this was why they weren’t currently offering any help. In the best interests of my friendship with Bear though, I held my tongue.

“I can only surmise there is something special about this adversary, something unique. I must pray again to the ancestors for a resolution”.

Bear brought his hands back together in a little prayer. Whilst this was going on the liquid in the grill began to bubble. It was a funny yellow and brown colour now. What the hell was this stuff? Was Bear planning on drinking it? Whatever it was it didn’t look very appetizing.

I have to say it was very unnerving being sat here in the semi-darkness like this. But for the light of the portable fire, the entire dojo building was silent and dark. There weren’t any audible noises coming from the streets outside either. Luton Town Centre had long ceased to be alive with activity today.

“We must now drink” said Bear, producing a wooden spoon seemingly out of thin air. “This will transport our souls to the inner reaches of the cordial plains”.

“We?”

“Yes. All present must make the voyage. I will go first”.

The liquid was thick. Indeed it was hard to know whether it required drinking or eating. Bear scooped some up and put it in his mouth. Then, his facial expression not changing in the slightest, he swallowed.

“You now” he beckoned, handing the spoon over.

“Err Bear, what exactly is this stuff?”

“It’s Yeehee”.

“It’s what?”

“Yeehee. Don’t tell me you’ve never had Yeehee before, Skunk?”

“Well – “

I stopped short of fully answering, deciding to just get on with it. It’s funny how you’re more open to trying new things after a break-up, isn’t it?

The Yeehee tasted like really hot yoghurt. Spicy hot yoghurt. Really spicy hot yoghurt! For a few moments I coughed and licked my lips, and looked around for water that wasn’t there. Then the feeling began to subside a little. As it did, my eyes began to blur. Talk about replacing one problem with another.

Completely unsettled, I got to my feet and moved to the wall. I put my hand on it but to my distorted vision it appeared as if my arm was bending and moving from side to side. In the background I could hear Bear’s deep voice telling me to sit down. Or maybe he was saying something else? I didn’t know. My head was spinning. I couldn’t think straight.

I began to see things in my head, and yet, I wasn’t seeing them. It didn’t make sense. In a sequence of flashing images I saw many things. I saw Kenilworth Road, trophies, Caroline, my flat, the buildings of Leeds, Bambi, Canada, Earth. Where the bleeding hell was I?

I don’t remember anything else.

When I woke up, dawn was breaking outside. I was lying on a blanket now inside the main dojo room. Feeling stiff and groggy I got up quickly and headed to the backroom. Bear was no longer there. Neither was the portable fire or its sister grill.

The only thing to do was leave. In a way I felt like I’d just woken up on a friend’s living room floor after too many beers the night before. I hate waking up in the same clothes I had on the previous day, just as I hate waking up without having good access to a shower and my personal toiletries. My home wasn't too far away from here, I supposed.

My heart missed a beat as I tried the outer door. I feared it would be locked. It was open though so I stepped out into the high street and began to make my way to the taxi rank.

[ScottleeSV]

05/04/10, League Match 41

Luton Town v Forest Green Rovers

GK – Dean Brill (106 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (48 apps, 4 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (98 apps, 2 goals)

DC – George Pilkington (99 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Tony James (50 apps, 2 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (66 apps, 18 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (90 apps, 11 goals)

ML – Clint Easton (26 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Danny Cadamateri (37 apps, 12 goals)

FC – Dean Bowditch (30 apps, 12 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (25 apps, 10 goals)

Luckily the hangover feeling had gone by the time I got to the ground. It was a Bank Holiday game so we were expecting a good crowd. I might have expected a good crowd anyway to be frank after our recent endeavours in surging clear at the top.

Going into this match we’d established a six point lead with six matches remaining. This meant we needed thirteen points from a possible eighteen on offer to get promoted, and that’s on the assumption that either Grays or Rushden would win all of their remaining games (an unlikely eventuality given the current form of both clubs).

The fact we’ve suddenly taken a firm stranglehold on the title race has really got the town buzzing again. It also means I’ll be crucified if we blow it, more so than I would have been had we just carried on fighting neck a neck to the last day only to lose out.

Tony James was able to come back today in place of David McCracken. I did however elect to rest Taylor and Bridges. This meant a first start since October 13th 2009 for loan striker Scott Spencer. His goal ratio is quite good considering the fact I bet half his appearances have been as sub.

It’s worth mentioning that today was George Pilkington’s 100th appearance in a James Martin Luton eleven. He becomes the second person to reach this landmark. Barring injury, Gnakpa will become the third when we play York on Wednesday night. Tony James incidentally reached 50 appearances when he came on as sub in the previous game.

I must admit I was nervously excited about this match. We’d played Forest Green twice earlier in the season, both at their place. Both resulted in victories, 4-2 in the league and 2-1 in the Live Bunny. Just so long as we didn’t put in a shocker of a performance, I fancied we could produce a similar outcome at Kenilworth Road.

Early signs were promising. It’s amazing how easy the game can be when you get on a roll and confidence is high. In the 7th minute we took the lead. Forest Green were in sixes and sevens as we passed the ball around with aplomb. Cadamateri teed up Spencer and he rattled the upright with a diagonal shot from the edge of the area. As the keeper stood static, Bowditch picked up the loose ball and rammed it home.

The roar around the ground was louder than normal. To my ears, it sounded like the roar to signify that the final push for promotion had begun, and begun well. I was pleased to see some uninspired body language from the visitors too. Forest Green are currently deep in the mid-table wilderness with very little left to play for.

‘We are top of the league, say we are top of the league!’ sang the home faithful.

Things got even better in the 16th minute. Keane robbed the ball from Holt in midfield and tried to push it through to Spencer. The ball deflected off Bignot and bounced with spin just in front of Bowditch and Robertson. It was just a case of who would get there first now and Robertson was about to slip. Well, actually, Bowditch shoved him down with his outstretched right arm but the ref didn’t see it and neither did I (wink).

With the crowd already halfway to their feet, Bowditch let the ball perform another couple of small bounces before side-footing it with his right peg. The keeper didn’t have time to react due to the close proximity and the ball was in the back of the net. Pandemonium at Kenilworth Road!

This latest effort garnered a far bigger reaction from myself and Brian. The game was well in the bag now and we’d only played 20 minutes. Not even that! Funnily enough, we’d also scored two similarly early goals in our previous match.

It was a party atmosphere around the ground. The next ten minutes produced a flurry of additional chances, none of which fell to man of the moment Bowditch. The list of culprits guilty of missing grew quickly – Nicholls, Keane, Spencer, James, Daniels. Forest Green were taking a right royal battering.

Just as had happened at The Lamb Ground however, the third goal failed to materialize, and we were forced to go to the interval only two goals up. The only shot for the visitors all half was a shot from Telford. Brill tipped it over for a corner but only as a precaution. It never actually looked like beating him.

Telford is a strange name for a Forest Green player. I would wager that Telford as a place isn’t all that far from Forest Green.

[tenthreeleader]

I continue to be impressed with how you keep a long time story fresh. It's not easy. Well done!

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, Tenthree

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

“Now remember guys, 2-0 is a dangerous lead”.

“But 3-0 is pipe, slippers, and a biscuit!” everyone repeated together.

“Glad we’re on the same page” I smiled.

We walked back out to Pretend We’re Dead by L7. The DJ must have liked it because he insisted on letting it play a few extra seconds whilst Spencer and Bowditch were shuffling their legs either side of the ball ready to kick off again.

Eventually we did kick off again but nothing really changed in the direction of the play. Forest Green were just very very poor today. It didn’t take long for my mind to wander onto the subject of how our nearest rivals were doing. On paper Rushden’s match at home to Woking looked as easy as ours. However Grays were away to 5th placed Salisbury.

“Rushden and Woking are 1-1 Brian informed me, eyes squinting downwards at his Blackberry screen. Woking have just equalised actually. Grays though are winning 1-0”.

I counted eight crosses into the Forest Green area by the 55th minute. Seven were headed away and the other was a joint header between Bowditch and my old pal John Hardiker. I used to play with Hardiker when he a young lad up at Morecambe. Not surprised he ended up having a spell in league football for a while. The aforementioned header by the way drifted up and behind and the ref judged it had come off Bowditch last.

Charlie Daniels almost made it biscuit time in the 58th. Carrying the ball towards the area from an infield position, he hammered a left footed shot which the keeper at first seemed to mistake as a cross. The ball faded back in like a golf shot though and was only a yard off target by the time it left the field of play.

On the hour mark, the away side’s crisp passing play finally reaped a dividend. Of sorts. Stonehouse fed Walker when confronted by James and Pilkington. From just outside the area, Walker fired low into Brill’s arms and a sigh of relief floated around the ground.

I had a light-bulb moment in the 62nd minute. I decided to send George Beavon on in place of Daniels at left back. Beavon hasn’t seen much first team action this season but he is a capable defender. He’s also adept playing at both centre half and left back. With Richie Byrne potentially out for a few more matches yet, it makes sense to me to preserve Easton and Daniels as best I can, and especially Daniels. Thus it was he who made way.

With just over 20 minutes to go we won a free kick outside the area. It was a little bit close for a Nicholls master blaster so I wondered if Keane might attempt a dink over the wall. Nope, it was going to be Easton with the left footer. He was only centimetres wide too, the ball clipping the side netting on its way behind. The keeper had clearly been fooled into thinking it would be a right footed taker.

It was only two days until our next game so I risked subs two and three relatively early. On went Buckley for the flagging Cadamateri and Niven for Nicholls. For Forest Green, Adrian Rigoglioso went on in place of Telford. Rigoglioso, who is 100% English (before you wonder), is another of my old teammates from my Morecambe days. He gave me a nod as he ran on.

77 minutes and finally a hat trick chance for Bowditch. Buckley had had an awkward sort of start on the right but ricochets were going his way. In the aforementioned minute he received another bite of the cherry after his initial cross was blocked. The ball flew perfectly into the middle and onto the head of Bowditch. The striker headed down and back across goalkeeper Downey. Perfect placement, good power, and good goal.

It was the icing on the cake for the home faithful. I almost thought they might break into a conga down the Kenilworth end. Bowditch meanwhile grabbed the ball out of the net and held it above his head. The Forest Green players didn’t mind. None of them had much interest left in the remaining minutes. The only question now was how many we would add before full time.

Just to complete the symmetry with our Tamworth result, we didn’t end up getting any more. The game saw itself out as we seemingly settled for three. At the final whistle a huge roar echoed around the ground and we were officially three points closer to going up.

It turned out that results in the other important games had stayed the same. Thus, Grays stayed six points behind but Rushden dropped behind. I never would have thought, after they beat us 2-0 in January, we would go eight points clear of Rushden before this season ended.

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

FULL TIME (att - 5644)

Luton Town 3 (Bowditch 7, 16, 77)

Forest Green 0

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

(other results)

Burton 1-0 Oxford

Histon 3-2 Kettering

Kidderminster 3-2 Tamworth

Macclesfield 2-5 York

Mansfield 1-0 St Albans

Northwich 0-2 Cambridge

Rushden 1-1 Woking

Salisbury 0-1 Grays

AFC Wimbledon 3-2 Stevenage

Droylsden 2-3 Crawley

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

(table with 41/46 games played)

1 - Luton (89)

2 - Grays (83)

3 - Rushden (81)

4 - York (78)

5 - Salisbury (69)

6 - Oxford (68)

7 - Crawley (67)

8 - Histon (64)

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

(our remaining games)

York (h)

Droylsden (a)

AFC Wimbledon (h)

Weymouth (a)

Kettering (h)

[ScottleeSV]

06/04/10 - One voice, one vote

When I walked into the office today I had a blue rosette in my pocket. The reason I wasn’t wearing it was so I didn't immediately give the game away.

“Right then, my trusty colleagues. We will shortly be approaching an extremely important period in the British calendar. No I’m not talking about Luton’s promotion push, rather something completely unrelated to football. So who can tell me what I’m talking about? What is it that’s coming up very soon?”

“Ooh!” Nicky gasped, putting her hand up. “The X-Factor auditions!”

“Err no, Nicky. Not the X-Factor auditions. Definitely not the X-Factor auditions. No, I’m talking about the general election. Very soon the whole country will be voting to see whether we get a change of government. Today, after almost two years of knowing you all, I thought this might be an appropriate time to declare where my political loyalty lies. Who knows? Maybe we all vote for the same party and we just never knew it?”

Now I pulled the rosette out and attached it to my suit jacket. Being blue, it did of course signify The Conservative Party. Nobody in the room looked particularly impressed, mind.

“What do you vote for them for?” Caroline asked.

“Ah, now the reasoning I will not disclose. I still have nightmares about the row I once had with my ex-girlfriend’s parents over dinner. Politics can be a touchy subject. You should always be carefully when planning to get into a debate with someone about it. In fact it’s a strict no-no for me. I’m happy to declare my party, but not my reasons”.

“Well I'm voting Green Party” Nicky announced with a well-don’t expect-me-to-ever-vote-Tory expression. It was the type of look you often see non-smokers put on for smokers. Well-don’t-expect-me-to-breathe-in-your-poison!

“Are the Green Party actually still going?” – Darren.

“Of course they’re still going! My Granddad votes for them. He says they’re the best party to vote for if you care about the environment. He’s a fisherman so that kind of thing’s really close to his heart. He used to tell me on his boat that the only way fish will get preserved around UK shores is if the government changes some of its current policies. Something like that. I don’t know all the details. It’s good enough for me though. I really love fish, even though I’ve killed a lot of them. I think they’re really sweet little things”.

Yeah. Moving on –

“Well I’m voting for Labour” said Brenda. “Don’t anybody start on me! I’m like Nicky. I kind of inherited my choice. My father voted Labour all his life, really believed in it. He’s passed away now. I couldn’t ever not vote for them. I’d feel him looking down on me disapproving if I voted for someone else. I don’t follow politics much anyway so there. They’re all as bad as each other once you get down to the nitty-gritty”.

As she was finishing off this monologue, Nicky got out of her chair and starting putting her coat on.

“And where do you think you’re going at five to eleven in the morning?” I enquired.

“To the toilet. It’s cold out there today”.

“Oh”.

I still haven’t got used to people disappearing into the stadium because they don’t want to pay 20p to use the office building toilets. Only Brenda actually pays up, as far as I know. Everyone else goes the extra yard so they can pee for free, me included.

“So where does your loyalty lie, Darren?” I asked as Nicky was leaving.

“Well, I’ve never voted before, but this time I’m going to vote Lib Dems. I like their ideas about making university cheaper for students”.

“But you’ve never going to go to university” Caroline objected.

“I know, but the University of Bedfordshire gets a lot of hot new freshers every September. If the Lib Dems get into power their policies will rightfully help preserve that particular totty flow”.

“Oh Darren” sighed Brenda.

Caroline just shook her head disapprovingly.

“That just leaves you” I said to her. “So far we’ve got one blue, one red, one green, and one yellow. Let me guess, UK Independence?”

“Actually I won’t be voting for anyone. I’m a political atheist”.

“Fair enough. In light of that then, I now declare this office a coalition for the next four years. May ideas from Tory, Labour, Lib Dem, and Green party supporters combine together to make Luton Town administration a continued success”.

“Hear hear” – Darren.

“Yeah that works for me” – Brenda.

“Me too” – Caroline.

Just then Nicky came back in, puffing her cheeks as if returning from a walk around the Arctic Circle. Without saying a word she returned to her desk and delved into a drawer. Moments later she was fitting herself out in mittens, scarf, and a bobble hat.

“You haven’t been to the loo yet then?”

“No, there’s sleet and all sorts out there”.

“Sure you don’t want to take a flask of coffee with you as well?” Darren sniggered.

“Oh this is ridiculous” I voiced, pulling my wallet out. “Take all that stuff off. Here”.

I walked forward a few paces and offered Nicky a twenty pence piece (which incredulously she accepted).

‘Shame we can’t have an election to vote bloody Erica out’ I thought.

[Chao Yang]

Just caught up with the story again! Midterms kept me away for a good couple of weeks.

Keep up the great story! Can't wait to see how Luton do once they get promotion.

[ScottleeSV]

Cheers Chao, but don't jinx me on that promotion just yet

----------

06/04/10 - On the hunt

Come the evening I sat down with my laptop and looked at housing websites. Even without Chantelle, I still want to find my own place. I might be over thirty and unable to hold down a relationship, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get myself on the housing ladder at least. The only reason I haven’t done it in recent times is because I was with Chantelle, and the only reason I didn’t do it before then was because I thought I might get sacked.

I might as well get on with it now I’ve got a large deposit saved up. If I do leave Luton any time soon I can always sell up and buy somewhere else. It’d be a complete pain in the arse but then so is moving from one rented property to another rented property, right?

Just as I was eyeing up a nice three bedroom property valued at 250k, a film trailer came on the TV across the other side of the room. That’s the trouble with sitting in the living room with your laptop on your knee. You can never resist having the TV on and thus you can never avoid getting distracted.

‘He will right the wrongs of kings’ said a deep voiced narrator.

The ‘he’ was presumably the scruffy guy running around the woods cutting everyone down with a big sword.

“Robin, behind you!” shouted a big fat guy in a robe. That was just the warning scruffy guy needed to twist around the spot and stab someone in the gut.

‘He will look into the faces of the gods’

Now he was doing more mundane things, like looking at a statue, staring into a wood fire, and snogging some fit bird dressed in white.

‘And now, he will lead an uprising that will change his kingdom forever’.

Now the scene briefly cut to a castle dining room.

“Raise the taxes again!” announced a black haired guy with a moustache. He did this with a big smirk on his face, a half eaten chicken leg in one hand and a beaker of wine in the other.

Cue more shots of the scruffy guy, this time jousting bravely on top of a rolling log. After that the cutaways got speedier and speedier to the point I was no longer going to remember them. At some point the narrator announced that Jude Law and Miley Cyrus would be in the film. Then, without warning, the screen turned to black, and that’s when the title came up.

‘Robin of Loxley’.

After this there was just time for a shot of Robin shooting an arrow with fire on the end of it into an oil barrel, thereby exploding the barrel and killing two bad guys standing nearby. Clever fellow that Robin Hood. Now the trailer was finally done.

Funnily enough, I’d actually thought near the trailer’s beginning it looked suspiciously like another Robin Hood film. Wasn’t there already one out at the moment? I wasn’t sure. Not unlike Hollywood to repeat itself over and over, I suppose.

Time to get back to house hunting. So what was next? Hmm, a nice three bedroom effort valued at a slightly more pricy 275k. Maybe this one was worth a viewing?

The trouble with buying a house is, if you’ve got a day job it can take you all week just to get through a mere handful of viewings. When you’re buying a top from JJB Sports, you can look through all six hundred they’ve got in store in the space of half an hour. Want to buy a new DVD? Check out thousands of titles down at HMV in the space of one solitary lunch hour (and still have time left over to eat your actual lunch). Want to buy a novel? Well, you get the picture.

Buying a house though relies a great deal on how long you’re willing or able to search in order to find the right one. You can probably waste a whole fortnight waiting to view the one you really want to see, only to spot a better one during the interim, or lose out in the bidding process, or have the seller change their mind about selling. Before you know it two weeks have passed and you’ve only viewed one house, when there are quite literally hundreds on the market.

Interrupting me from my thoughts was the sound of my mobile phone.

“Yes, Kevin?”

“Hey boss. Just thought I’d let you know what happened with the song today”.

“Oh? That was today? How did it go?”

“Brilliant. That McCartney really knows his stuff. It only took two hours and we had the whole song in the can! I think it came out really well. I think the fans will love it”.

“So it’s all done and recorded? Absolutely no problems whatsoever?”

“Nope. All done”.

“Excellent”.

I was almost slightly jealous I wasn’t singing on it now!

“Err, boss, just a couple of things about the York game tomorrow night. You got time to talk some tactics?”

“Yeah of course” I replied, moving the cursor towards the shutdown macro. “Hang on a sec”.

It looked like I wasn’t going to get any good house hunting done tonight after all. You’d think I’d have more time on my hands without Chantelle, wouldn’t you? Not so.

“Okay, shoot”.

[ScottleeSV]

07/04/10 - Errand boy

I’m always slightly wary when I walk into Bob’s office these days, just in case I’m being lined up to partake in some harebrained scheme. If Bob’s in there on his own though (i.e. no Glynn), chances are things are going to be fine. So it was today. No Glynn. Just Bob.

“Ah, there you are, James”.

“How’s it going?”

“Not bad. I’m coming to tonight’s game, by the way. A lot of the directors are going to be there tonight and I’ve got an invite to sit in the box”.

“Great. Just what I need. More pressure”.

“Oh don’t worry about it. Anyway, the directors are there far more often than you’d think. Just because there’s no-one in the box, doesn’t mean there’s none of them in the ground”.

I shrugged and took my seat. Bob opened the bottle of red to the side of his desk and poured himself a generous glass. He offered me one but I shook my head. Not for me. Not three hours before a game.

“So what can I do for you?” I asked.

“Well, you know Glynn’s on holiday at the moment, right?”

“Yeah”.

“Well, there are things that need doing that can’t be put off. Glynn’s away and I’ve got a lot on my plate with us being so close to promotion. There’s not that many other people in the office I can turn to. I mean I know you’ve got the team to look after and I appreciate that but – “

“Bob, what is it I can help with?”

I mean Jesus, talk about beating around the bush!

“Our current shirt sponsors are pulling out at the end of the season. We need a new one. That’s the bottom line”.

“You want me to find the club a new shirt sponsor?”

“No. I’ve already done that. In fact I’ve found several interested parties, all of whom have put offers in. It seems that even in the middle of a recession companies are still desperate to have their names plastered on the front of football shirts. Strange, isn’t it? Anyway, take a look at the shortlist. See what you think”.

To prepare himself for the hardship of passing me the list, Bob took a big long sip of his wine. He must have gulped three times in that same sip.

Specsavers - £400 p/m (3 years)

Hank’s Hairdressers – £50 p/m (1 year)

Dixons - £500 p/m (2 years)

Waterstones - £350 p/m (1 year)

Aztec Parlour - £100 p/m (1 year)

Osama’s Chemicals - £2000 p/m (2 years)

An interesting list. A fair few of the names stood out. My Dad used to work at Dixons, if only briefly. There was once a downturn in the haulage business and he had to seek part time work elsewhere just to tide him over. I was about eight at the time. Anyway he managed to get some Saturday hours at the Dixons in Leeds. It didn’t last long because he didn’t need it to last long. I once messed up a sale by charging towards him shouting “Daddy I’m an aeroplane!” whilst he was trying to sell someone a telly. It didn't get sold in the end.

Hank’s Hairdressers is a small place in town. Everybody knows about it even if they don’t go there. The proprietor (and sole cutter of hair) is a huge six foot five guy who only allows female custom. Men aren’t allowed in. People think the guy is weird and there’s probably something in that, to be honest.

Aztec Parlour. That’s the Mexican restaurant I took Chantelle to a few months ago. No point dwelling on that.

Of course, there’s one more standout name and it’s the one right at the bottom. My eyes didn’t catch it at first perhaps because they didn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

‘Osama’s Chemicals? What the fuke?’

“What’s that Osama one all about?” I asked. “Don’t tell me that’s Bin Laden?”

“Don’t talk daft! Of course it isn’t. They’ve made a good offer though, haven’t they? There’s is by far the best of all the bids”.

“But who is it? And what kind of company is it?”

“I don’t know”.

“You don’t know? So it could be Bin Laden?”

“Give over! It’s not going to be Bin Laden is it?”

I sighed and handed him the list back. After the recent palaver with Tokichi Robotics, I could do without another mysterious company entering the fringes of my life.

“Haven’t you looked online, or phoned them?”

“They haven’t got a website. There was an address on the letter they sent but no phone number”.

“Sounds dodgy to me”.

“Oh come on, James. It’s probably just some small time pharmaceutical firm looking to expand their horizons”.

“Or destroy some horizons with the latest in bio chemical weaponry”.

“Give up!”

Bob chuckled and finished his wine off. Once he’d put the glass down I could see his hand make an instinctive move towards the bottle again, however the brain rejected the move and the hand had to settle for a resting place back on the desk. For now.

“So what do you want from me in all this?” I enquired.

The acting chairman now passed me another piece of paper. It had an address on it.

“I’d like you to pay a visit to this Osama’s Chemicals place, see if it’s a reputable firm. If it is, we’ll probably use them”.

“You’re not serious?”

“Deadly”.

“We can’t have shirts with –with - that on it! What will people think?”

“James, we can’t discriminate against local entrepreneurs just because they happen to have the same first name as some old warlord living halfway across the other side of the world, WHO I may add, hasn’t been much in the news recently anyway”.

“Of course we can! You wouldn’t allow a shirt sponsor called Hitler and Bingley, so why Bin Laden?”

“It’s not Bin Laden! It’s Osama. Besides, it’s nowhere near as inappropriate as Hiter. Or Adolf. It just has a different feel to it”.

Standing up and heading for the door, I turned my head just as I was about to open it.

“If you’re asking me to go and see if this place is reputable, that implies you think there’s an outside chance it might not be”.

“So? If it isn’t, tell us, and we won’t use them”.

“What if I don’t get the chance to tell you? What if I end up on my knees with a black bag over my head, two AK-47's pointed at me as Osama walks around in front of a video feed making his next big threat against America?”

Now Bob did reach for the bottle. Such was his laughter at what I’d just said, he almost dropped it.

“Whatever” I followed up with, and now I finally did leave the room.

I still though had the address in my hand.

[michael62]

HATTERS 6-0 SOUTHPORT Gary Brabin's first win in charge really starting to make a big difference we looking a much better side then under money !!!

[Benana93]

Still loving the story, plus well done Luton (both here and in real life).

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, Benana.

Good result for r/l Luton. Should improve confidence going into the playoffs.

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

07/04/10, League Match 42

Luton Town v York City

GK – Dean Brill (107 apps, 0 goals)

DL – George Beavon (23 apps, 0 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (99 apps, 2 goals)

DC – Mark Pond (debutant)

DC – Tony James (51 apps, 2 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (67 apps, 18 goals)

MC – Derek Niven (33 apps, 3 goals)

ML – Clint Easton (27 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Michael Taylor (34 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Danny Cadamateri (38 apps, 12 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (26 apps, 10 goals)

As has become the norm with my team selections, this one was full of good and bad news. The bad news was in defence where a sudden spate of minor injuries had all cropped up at the same time. Unable to play were Byrne, McCracken, Pilkington, and Daniels. This meant I was forced to pick George Beavon at left back and hand off a debut to eighteen year old Mark Pond in central defence.

Pond is a good young player but certainly not cut out for a game of this magnitude. Still, I had no choice. I had to just throw him in at the deep end and hope he’d cope. No such worries about Beavon; the guy is a seasoned back up player, despite also being very young. The one positive in all this was that Daniels at least was guaranteed to be back for our next game in three days time away to Droylsden.

Claude Gnakpa was making his 100th appearance for me in a Luton shirt today. He follows Dean Brill and George Pilkington into that particular hall of fame.

In midfield Keith Keane was absent but is expected to return against Droylsden. Niven deputised. Okay, now for the really bad news. Are you ready for it? Right, here it comes. Dean Bowditch, that guy who’s scored 5 goals in the past 4 matches, is out for a few weeks and probably won’t play again before the games run out. Hopefully we have enough strikers in the squad to get the job done without him. Still, it’s a blow.

Bridges was also still out, incidentally, so Spencer and Cadamateri were partnered together up front. Thank God Taylor was able to come back in on the right to enable Cadders to make the switch!

On paper York were the toughest team we had left to face. They’ve pretty much been 4th in the table all season. Their form has been more consistent than most but not quite up to the standard of us, Grays, or Rushden. They will be stiff opposition in the playoffs though for whichever of the top sides don’t get automatic promotion. That much is certain. Earlier in the season we drew 3-3 at their place.

Just as Bob had informed me, most of the Luton directors were in their little enclosed pen up in the main stand for this game. I could see them filing into their seats prior to kick off. Erica was among them. She sat bang in the middle like the Queen of Sheba. Some of the fans nearby gave her a friendly wolf whistle.

Wouldn’t it have been just my luck if we performed badly the same day the directors were all here? There were some indicators to suggest we might do. For instance, we’d won four in a row before this match which meant we were surely due a doozey. I also had an untried kid playing centre half. Oh, and it was York. Tough team etc.

I haven’t left as much room as normal for an actual match report in this entry, but I guess as a reading exercise they can occasionally get a bit samey, especially with all the wins. Besides, if ever there was an occasion to cut it down a little bit, it was this one, against York. The first fifteen minutes passed by without so much as a corner. Then the away side realised we had a duffer playing in defence and began to exploit it.

Two moves went through us like a knife through butter in the space of hardly any time at all. First Henderson and Symes swapped a one-two on the edge of the box. It reminded me of Brolin and Dahlin playing for Sweden in Euro 92. Tony James did his best to get a leg in the way but I don’t know what Pond was doing. It certainly wasn’t defending. Anyway, Symes ended up shooting just over.

Then a ball from Chapman in the centre circle bounced over Pond’s foot when it shouldn’t have done, releasing McBreen. That attempt from Pond, by the way, really stank, just like pond life. I thought McBreen would make it 0-1 for sure given his wonderful scoring record in the Conference. Then again, he was up against the mighty Brill, so who knew? Moments later the ground was on their feet to celebrate a wonderful sprawling save with an outstretched leg. Let-off.

The doozey evidently wasn’t going to happen today, as in the 22nd minute we took the lead against the run of play. It was a goal created by Easton on the left. He didn’t have the pace to beat Purkiss so he crossed a hard one in low and slightly diagonal. Cadamateri controlled it ten yard out near the back post and walloped it into the roof of the net. I don’t think he meant to hit it into that spot (Cadamateri, not Easton) but hey, no biggie.

Like the good side they are, York didn’t let the goal get them down like some other sides would have done. Besides, Pond was at centre half. Anything was possible. For the remaining time up until the interval they probed and pushed but without creating the type of chances they did before going behind. McBreen headed straight at Brill and Montague had a weak penalty appeal turned down. Apart from that, lots of possession but little in the way of chances.

Up the other end it was a dead loss. We were very lucky to have a goal under our belts. Pond’s ineffectiveness meant that Nicholls and Niven were unwilling to get forward and support the frontline. This resulted in a largely backs-to-the-wall job played mostly in our own half. Still, York weren’t capitalising. What’s more, we had the lead. Talk about riding the crest of a wave.

[ScottleeSV]

“You’ve been let off the hook in that first half. We don’t deserve to be ahead and we certainly won’t keep it that way unless we improve. Derek and Kevin, you’re too deep. Way too deep. Play like you normally do. Show some confidence in Mark. Easier for him to be allowed to play his normal game rather than be crowded by his own players. Mark, you’re not doing too bad so far. Watch the ball closely though when you’re controlling it, and don’t be afraid to hump it clear if you’re unsure”.

The other players were good with him. A lot of them patted him on the back on the way back out and gave him fresh encouragement. Privately though, I’d already decided he wasn’t going to make the grade. At some point in the summer I’ll find a way to get rid. Plenty more fish in the pond, right? (hehe).

We started the second half with much more impetus, but York are a strong side and weren’t having any of it. Evidently The Minstermen have not been struggling with late season injuries as much as we have. Without checking, I’m guessing they didn’t so very well in the cups.

In the 49th minute Montague dinked a little ball diagonally through to Symes, who now found himself in on goal from the corner edge of the box. It was a half chance to score but the player opted to go for a Davor-Suker-against-Denmark-special, a scooped chip with his left foot over the goalkeeper. The Conference though is a world away from the Euros, and the shot ended up safely in the arms of Brill.

Again the red shirts bombed forwards. And again. The confusing thing now was that the mistakes weren’t being made by Pond; they were being made by everyone. Nobody was having a good game today. Clearly THIS was meant to be the doozey. It was as of God had phoned Erica in the middle of the night and said – “Hey, the first team are about to have a doozey. Call all the directors up and get them down to the game for a look-see”.

But we still had the lead, miraculously. It was the saving grace. When McBreen confirmed he was having his very own mini-doozey with a bad miss in the 55th, I started to ‘believe’. I still had to make some subs though, and it wasn't as if I could wreck the balance of what we were doing. Besides, I had a bright idea. Read on.

Right back Claude Gnakpa can play centre half. Not very well, but he can give it a stab. He’s maybe even better at it than Pond. On the bench I had another young lad by the name of Ashley Deeney, a natural right back. See where I’m going here? That’s right, I moved Gnakpa across to Pond’s position and put Deeney on for Pond. I also threw Buckley on for Taylor.

The risk proved a good one. Gnakpa was no Rio Ferdinand back there, but what he did have was a certain presence about him that made some of the York forwards think twice. Also, Deeney turned out to be much more adept at this first team lark than Pond. A fish out of water was Pond. Deeney though was a fish inside the water. Well, maybe not totally in the water but certainly a fish capable of swimming along the surface taking the occasional gulp of air. Something like that.

It wasn’t long before our play improved. Niven might have scored in the 67th minute but prodded wide with a high foot just as the keeper was about to clatter him. This reminded me of Carsten Jancker’s goal for Germany when we beat them 5-1, only in Niven’s case he missed it.

With the crowd rightly sensing the tide had turned, Nicholls drifted out to the right and attempted a Gerrard style curling cross into the middle. A load of bodies all went for it at once and the ball got stuck under most of them. On a day full of lucky breaks for us, the ball then squirmed neatly out to the one outfield player still standing – Scott Spencer. Whack. Goal. Keeper stood still. Two-zero.

I can’t describe how great it feels to go two goals clear when a) there’s only twenty minutes left, b) you’re not playing well, c) several players are out injured, d) the opposition is strong, e) you’re on the cusp of winning a title, potentially, and e), the directors are all in the ground!

This time I remembered to turn around and guage their reactions. Strangely, none of them were clapping. They were all just sat there really silently looking bored. It was as if they were thinking – ‘Oh. Right. Can’t sack him today then’.

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

FINAL SCORE (att - 5646)

Luton Town 2 (Cadamateri 22, Spencer 70)

York City 0

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

(other results)

Rushden 4-0 Droylsden

Stevenage 1-4 Weymouth

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

(top of table with 42/46 games played. Grays have one in hand)

1 - Luton (92)

2 - Rushden (84)

3 - Grays (83)

4 - York (78)

5 - Salisbury (69)

6 - Oxford (68)

7 - Weymouth (67)

8 - Crawley (67)

[Kongefar]

Congrats mate, almost a certain league title now! Whether the board likes it or not. You might even complete the 100-point challenge that was put forward at the start of the season by some of your cocky players. Still loving this story,miles better than most of the fictional junk the missus keeps on our bookshelf!

[ScottleeSV]

Cheers, Kong! It's not over yet though.

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

09/04/10 - Punishment

It’s been on my mind for days there was something familiar about the address Bob gave me. Sure enough, when I finally got around to checking it out today, it turned out to be on the exact same street Heavenly Hatters is on. In fact Osama’s Chemicals was just three doors further down. If I haven’t described the street before, it’s a kind of back alley job just off the main town centre. It’s full of abandoned garages, boarded up windows, and corrugated iron. Oh, and Heavenly Hatters.

As I pulled my car up on the opposite side of the road (but fifty yards back), I was tempted to just put my foot back down and shoot on through. The trouble I’d have if I walked past the strip club was, I’d be just asking for Begher to pop out at that exact same moment and start giving me loads of s__t. I’m not scared of him; I could just do without the hassle. Besides, if he turns up with more than one goon in tow in said scenario, I can’t guarantee my own safety.

Bob though would surely ask me to describe the inside of Osama’s Chemicals, wouldn’t he? He wouldn’t just settle for – No they’re no good, Bob. Pick another one. Bob would have to tell Erica why they were passing on a two grand per month contract, and Erica would want to know exactly what I found out at Osama’s Chemicals that was just so goddamn awful. Knowing Erica, nothing short of Bin Laden himself chasing me back outside with M16 assault rifle would cut the mustard.

No, I’d have to go in.

Just as I turned the engine off and had my hand on the door, a big burly man appeared in the entrance to Heavenly Hatters. Suffice to say I quickly took my hand back off the door and ducked my head down.

The man had hold of a woman’s arm. I’m guessing she was one of the strippers because she was wearing only a matching pair of bra and panties. With more than a trace of aggression, the burly man threw the woman out onto the pavement. She only just managed to keep her feet before turning back around again. Appearing by the side of the man was Randy. He was wearing his all pink business suit and Ray-bans.

“I didn’t mean to take it, Randy!” sobbed the girl. “I needed it though! I needed it!”

“My ass you needed it, bitch! All you need is a good slap. Now take yo ass away before I practice my two hander. When I need you again, I’ll call you”.

The girl, a curvy redhead, briefly glanced around the street as if having forgotten which part of the world she was in. She was shivering.

“Well at least let me have my coat!”

“Nah-ah, bitch. I’m keeping dat as part payment for the blow your wandering hands acquired. Walk home without it!”

With this Randy and his bouncer burst into a fit of laughter, Randy more so than the bouncer. They were still laughing as they slipped back inside the door and closed it. The girl reacted by standing still for a second before scuttling off down the street almost completely naked. Did I have much sympathy for her? Hard to say.

One day I’m going to wipe that smirk off Randy’s face and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. That day however was not today. He probably had more bouncer types inside the club, and I had business to tend to anyway.

If there was one crumb of good to come from the redhead incident, it was in the knowledge I now had reasonably safe passage past Heavenly Hatters. I figured it was unlikely Randy would come outside again so soon. I didn’t peg him for the type to suffer an attack of the conscience and rush back out to go chase the girl down with a warm blanket and a cup of Horlicks. As such, when I finally left my car and zapped it into lock mode, it was with a reasonable degree of inner calm.

Sixty seconds later I was outside Osama’s Chemicals. The door was an old wooden thing with more dirt on it than the back of Keith Keane’s shorts after training. The fact it was clearly unlocked seemed a good omen. Taking a moment to steady myself, I knocked loudly and walked through.

Inside was the sort of sight you see usually see down the post office, only grimier. A large Perspex sheet separated the area in front of the main desk from what was behind it. Only one man was stood on my side, a Turkish looking fellow with a bald head and a Hawaian shirt. I’d say he was in his forties. Behind the glass were two more guys messing around with various piles of paper (of which there were LOTS).

“Yes?” Mr Hawaii said by greeting.

“I’m here from Luton Town”.

“Ah yes!” he replied cheerfully, his whole expression changing in an instant. “I have been waiting for someone from your club to contact me. Come! Come!”

And with that he gestured me through a side door. I couldn’t see a handgun shape in the back of his shirt, so I followed him.

[ectric23]

hey man great story been following it for a few weeks now and just got to the end and i must say this is amazing loving reading this and gotta give u props from california nice job mate

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, Ectric. I'm really glad you like it. Cheers.

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

09/04/10 - Osama

Because of the company’s name, I was expecting the next room to be a science lab. I was expecting guys in white coats to be stood behind waist high wooden benches. They’d be wearing goggles and messing around with Bunsen burners and test tubes filled with funny liquids. Steam would be coming out of funnels raised five feet off the table, and the most common noise would be the sound of bubbling. That’s what I had in mind anyway.

Not so. The room Mr Hawaii led me into was another office, this one a more private affair by the looks of it. A large desk with a computer sat at the opposite end of the room from the door. Elsewhere there was an assortment of cabinets, fax machines, printers, and more paper piles. Office things.

“Just out of curiosity” I began, taking a seat opposite my host. “What exactly does your company do?”

“We make chemicals and sell them to supermarkets. You know the own brand stuff, the products with the crap labels that are really cheap? Well, certain things like shampoo, washing up liquid, bleach; we have a big hand in making those”.

“Oh. So where’s the factory floor then?”

I opened my palms outwards and gestured to the walls around me.

“You mean where do we do our actual work? That’s not done here. This is our head office”.

“Right”.

“Anyway, you haven’t introduced yourself, man from Luton Town Football Club”.

“I'm James Martin. I’m the club manager”.

“Yes I thought so” chuckled Hawaii. “I just thought it polite to let you say it for yourself”.

“You knew who I was just from looking at me? Are you a fan of the club?”

“No I’m a Watford fan, but I’ve seen your picture in the Hertfordshire Herald”.

With this he pointed somewhere behind me and above my head. On twisting round I saw a Watford home shirt attached to the wall just above the door, once again leading me to wonder just where in the hell our five thousand regulars actually come from.

“That Andy Branston really doesn’t like you very much, does he?” Hawaii continued. “I must admit though, I had to suppress a giggle at that mock-up picture he did of you after the Northwich game. You know, the one where he swapped your head for a giant turnip”.

“Must have missed that edition”.

“Well anyway, my name is Osama Bin Abdullah. As you have no doubt guessed by now, I am the manager of Osama’s Chemicals”.

So it wasn’t bad enough he had to be called Osama. He also had to have the Bin part in the middle as well, just to make him sound that little bit more like Bin Laden. Why didn’t he just really push it close to the wire and call himself Osama Bin Laddle?

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr Abdullah”.

“Likewise. Presumably you have come to tell me you will be accepting my generous offer of shirt sponsorship?”

“Well” I said, right before I paused. “Yours was certainly the highest offer. But before we officially accept, my job today was to come down here and make sure your firm wasn’t anything – you know – dodgy”.

Abdullah shuffled slightly and leaned back in his leather chair.

“Dodgy? I don’t understand”.

“Well, what I mean is, your company’s name – it kind of – I mean, when you say it out loud – it kind of – makes you think of – well, you know. Don’t you think?”

“No I don’t know. What are you talking about?”

I moved my hands around, gesticulating, smiling, trying to make him cotton on. I did everything short of play air-rocket-launcher with my fingers. He wasn’t getting it though and now I was starting to feel awkward. Oh screw it. I didn’t need this.

“Forget about it” I said, rising to my feet. “Ignore me. I literally do have bits of turnip in my head, you know. It’s why I sometimes go off on weird tangents that make no sense. Anyway, gotta go. People to meet, players to sign, you know how it is”.

“But what about the sponsorship?” Abdullah asked, following me hurriedly to the door.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m going to firmly recommend to my board of directors we go with you. Chances are someone from our finance department will be in touch soon to sort it all out.

“Wonderful!”

“Isn’t it just?” I grinned.

When I got back outside I rushed past Heavenly Hatters and into my car. Then I got my mobile out and called Brian.

“Hey, how did it go?” he asked.

“Not so good. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Osama’s Chemicals. Nothing at all”.

“You’re not going to tell Bob that though, are you?”

“I don’t see how I have a choice. I can’t lie to him. If I lied and someone from the boardroom decided to scope the place out for themselves, they’d have grounds to sack me”.

“So what now?”

“I don’t know. Next season’s shirt sales could be interesting though”.

[ScottleeSV]

10/04/10 - Two from two

The equation has been getting better by the game. Here’s how it stood before today’s trip to Droylsden. Last night’s draw for Grays, by the way, helped matters plenty.

Two wins from our final four games will guarantee us the title. OR, one win and two draws will guarantee it. Put another way, we need a minimum of five points from a possible twelve. If we only achieve four then either Grays or Rushden can pip us by winning all four of their remaining games.

Even though it’s away from home, today’s game is a great chance to get the first of those two wins. Droylsden are the whipping boys of the Conference National. They’ve accumulated only 21 points all season and have already been confirmed as relegated. Earlier in the season we beat them 2-0 at Kenilworth Road on a day we might have scored ten. They might be a slightly trickier proposition on their home patch but I doubt by much.

The club are nicknamed The Bloods and play at The Butchers Arms Ground in Greater Manchester. They were a relatively unremarkable non-league club until 2004 when a reshuffle of the pyramid landed them in the newly formed Blue Square North. From there they kicked on and won promotion to the Conference National in 2007 before bouncing straight back down the following year (finishing bottom in the process).

They then went straight back up through the playoffs before now landing themselves in this predicament for the second time in three years. Incidentally, if you add the 21 points they’ve won from this season to the 24 from the first relegation that gives Droylsden a grand total of 45 points from 86 Conference National matches played. Horrendous stuff. Put another way, they’ve won 9 games out of a possible 86 at this level.

If we win today, and we should win today, that will mean we’ll go into next Saturday’s home game with Wimbledon with a chance to be champions no matter what anybody else does in their other games. The thought of that scenario presenting itself makes me spine shiver. A packed crowd – A Saturday afternoon – a chance to win the league – no pressure if we lost because of our two other games to follow – sounds brilliant.

And wouldn’t it be somehow fitting if Steve was the opposition the day we finished things off? Wimbledon might have a reputation for being party poopers, but we’d be able to play that game without fear, because like I’ve already said, we'd still have two other chances afterwards if we failed. I don’t think Steve would mind me winning a title right in front of him, at least at this stage of his work with the Dons. He would have known before the season began that Luton were hoping for promotion where as Wimbledon’s mandate was to consolidate.

I’m getting ahead myself though, and that’s a mistake. We haven’t even beaten Droylsden yet. First we deal with them and then we can think about Wimbledon. That’s the rightful order of things.

I still went on a tourist jaunt today because I wanted to keep the routine as normal as possible for the players. And besides, like I was going to miss the chance to see Droylsden the town! Kidding. A quick skim of Wikipedia showed that there very little in the place worthy of my attention. Instead then I went for lunch at The Trafford Centre, Manchester’s gigantic nationwide-renowned shopping precinct.

The Trafford Centre has 280 stores and parking for 10630 vehicles. It’s huge. And very pretty to look at. In fact it’s a joy to visit even if you’re not intent on buying anything. As I sat in the Orient Food Court just after midday, it crossed my mind that this is probably the place where the wives of Man United and Man City fans come when the husbands are at footy.

As I paid for my meal I asked the cashier if she’s heard of Droylsden. She had not. Then I asked if she’d heard of Luton. She had, although only because of the airport. Droylsden 0 Luton 1.

The Butchers Arms is easily one of the worst ground in the Conference. It’s a fitting place for a team on a run of 9 from 86. The capacity is only 3000. One side of the ground has seats but only for half the width of the pitch. The other side is one long walkway from corner flag to corner flag. Behind one of the goals is some small terracing where as behind the other goal is absolutely nothing.

If there’s one redeeming feature it’s the clubhouse. Nice and spacious. Indeed it’s in there I’m currently writing these notes. I don’t always get the chance to do this bit ‘before’ the match but today is one of those days. The place is starting to fill up with white and orange though so I’m probably going to have to think about packing up.

[ScottleeSV]

10/04/10, League Match 43

Droylsden v Luton Town

GK – Dean Brill (108 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (49 apps, 4 goals)

DR – Ashley Deeney (1 app, 0 goals)

DC – Claude Gnakpa (100 apps, 2 goals)

DC – Tony James (52 apps, 2 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (68 apps, 18 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (92 apps, 11 goals)

ML – Clint Easton (28 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Michael Taylor (35 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Michael Bridges (34 apps, 14 goals)

FC – Danny Cadamateri (39 apps, 13 goals)

With a full seven days after this until the next game, I could afford to play whoever was fit without worrying over the need to rest anyone (unless they were clearly knackered). To cut to the chase, notable absentees were Bowditch, Pilkinton, McCracken, and Byrne. After impressing more than Pond did in the last match, I started with Deeney at right back and moved Gnakpa to centre half.

As an aside, today was Charlie Daniels’ 50th appearance for Luton. He’s had an excellent campaign since his arrival last summer.

The two teams ran out to Welcome to the Jungle by Guns and Roses. About 1000 seemed to have made the trip from Luton. I would say half of that figure, if I’m generous, were present to support the home side. The pitch looked slightly uneven but nothing out of the ordinary. The weather was overcast but dry.

Highlights in the opening exchanges were limited due to Droylsden’s short passing game running the clock down. I don’t think it was an attempt at time wasting; it just seemed to be the way they were set up to go about things. I wondered if maybe the manager had told them to play in an eye-pleasing fashion so he could say – “Well okay, I got us relegated, but you have to admit we did play an entertaining brand of football. You can’t have it both ways!”

Droylsden’s problem though, aside from having no good players, was that they didn’t have any kind of end product. Sometimes you’ll see a team play really well but fail with the final delivery. They’ll knock it around with aplomb but ultimately cross it straight into the keeper’s arms, or onto the head of the really tall centre half, or over everybody’s heads for as throw-in or goal kick. Droylsden weren’t even getting to that part! They’d pass it twenty times and then get dispossessed.

That eventually gave us the confidence to pour forward and play our game. Bridges headed over the 10th minute before Nicholls stung the hands of goalkeeper Clancy in the 12th. From that little spell onwards it was one-way traffic. It was one-way traffic in the stands too where the away supporters, thriving on the adrenalin accumulated during five straight victories, were ensuring that not a moment passed without noise.

It took a while but we finally caught a break in the 36th minute. The Bloods had survived up to that point on a combination of hard work and good luck. That was all rendered for naught though when Fitzgerald interrupted a weaving forward surge from Daniels with an outstretched leg. Over he went and the penalty was awarded. Up stepped El Skip to blast one straight down the middle for 1-0.

Such was the expectation around the ground that Droylsden’s luck couldn’t possibly last all the way through, celebrations perhaps weren’t as worthy for a team on the brink of the title as they might have been. Not that I cared. I just wanted this one won any which way so we could move onto Wimbledon.

Because we’d been so dominant, to go in only 1-0 at half time might been a little annoying. Droylsden may have been shockingly bad but the interval can do strange things to a football match. Teams can go inexplicably cold. Other teams can find an extra level. You just never know. Imagine my happiness then we sneaked a second goal in just before the changeover.

Strangely enough, it was another penalty. This time a second-bite-of-the-cherry cross from Taylor was handled by Cryan. I don’t know why. There were tons of bodies in the area. No need for a last ditch palming of the ball, if you ask me. Anyway, Nicholls stepped up again and again he scored. I wondered if he might go down the middle a second time but evidently he deemed it too risky. Instead he went low and right and the ball popped up off Clancy’s wrist and hit the net halfway up.

Amazingly there was still one more to come. With Droylsden’s heads well and truly facing the floor now. Easton controlled a ball on the left and danced past Dugdale. You know a guy’s feeling down in the dumps when he lets himself get beaten for pace by Easton! You also know you’re well and truly on a lucky streak when your wingers start dumping attempted crosses into the top corner.

Three plays nil at the break.

[ScottleeSV]

“Be careful” I said in the dressing room. “Don’t get complacent out there!”

The briefest of silences ensued. Then the whole squad burst out laughing. Not just a short laugh either, but a really prolonged one. Stand up comics would kill for such reactions.

“Yeah okay, I’ll let you off just this once” I conceded. “They really are poor aren’t they? Okay, I’ll let you enjoy half time in peace then. No mucking around out there though, okay?”

To pass the time I went into Droylsden’s clubhouse and took in some half time scores. Grays were 1-0 up at home to Burton. Rushden were 2-1 down away to Oxford. With that information in my possession I headed back out and made for the dugouts.

The atmosphere was predictably very flat at the start of the second half. There was no singing from the home fans, none from the away fans (saving themselves for Wimbledon, maybe?), no sudden riposte from Droylsden, and no apparent desire from our mob to rack up a cricket score. Indeed the first ten minutes passed without anything noteworthy happening at all.

Then the red shirts conjured a half chance through Burberry. The dithering Allen finally put a cross in the box and Burberry poked a slow loopy kind of a header to Brill’s left. It looked infinitely catchable but the keeper elected to palm over the top, maybe to make Droylsden and their fans feel better about themselves. Who knows?

On the off chance this was going to be the beginning of a sustained spell of pressure, I positioned myself close to the touchline and cleared my throat to do some shouting. It never transpired though so I retreated the dugout and crossed my arms.

“I’m bored” I said to Brian. “Got any games on that Blackberry of yours I can play?”

“Yeah, loads” he replied, whipping it out of his pocket.

“Put it away!” I quickly retorted.

Brian stuffed it back in his pocket again.

On the hour mark I made all three of my available substitutions at once. On went Buckley for Taylor, Spencer for Bridges, and Beavon for Gnakpa. Droylsden showed their strength in depth by making just one change all half in a bid to turn things around.

Just as I suspected it might, the changes got us moving forwards again. Spencer and Buckley linked up well in the 68th minute, Spencer eventually misfiring from six yards out in the increasingly muddy six yard box. Five minutes later Nicholls missed his hat trick chance. An Easton side-foot from the left rolled perfectly into the path of El Skip to strike left footed and on the run – just wide of the post.

Then Spencer again, heading comfortably into Clancy’s arms from a corner. Then Keane swiped a left footed shot over the bar when it was easier to score, Daniels’ diagonal second ball from a corner doing all the damage. Keane hadn’t looked fully fit today but I didn’t sub him when I had the chance because I couldn’t bear to see him clapping the fans and lauding it on his way off as if he'd just conquered Gattuso and Albertini at The San Siro.

More chances followed but my mental energy for keeping a track of them wasn’t at its best. Droylsden got lucky a lot, put it that way. When the linesman eventually signalled that there would only be one added minute it felt more like a mercy call than anything else. There were certainly no complaints from the home bench over the ref’s calculations.

At the end, I walked slowly onto the pitch to congratulate the players on another good job well done. We’ve now won our past six games by the following scores; 3-1, 4-0, 3-0, 3-0, 2-0, and 3-0. Since going a goal down to Cambridge on March 27th, we’ve scored 18 goals without reply and gone 498 minutes without conceding. That’s 8 hours 18 minutes.

The Luton fans all stayed to clap us off. Such was their enthusiasm I risked fist-pumping the air at them. That could come back to haunt me if we don’t win any of our next three games. Surely we’ll win at least one of them? We can't blow it from here, surely?

Surely not?

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

FINAL SCORE (att - 1366)

Droylsden 0

Luton Town 3 (Nicholls 36 pen, 43 pen, Easton 45)

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

(other results)

AFC Wimbledon 2-0 Ebbsfleet

Cambridge 4-1 Macclesfield

Fores Green 2-2 Kidderminster

Grays 2-0 Burton

Kettering 2-1 Stevenage

Oxford 3-1 Rushden

St Albans 3-2 Northwich

Tamworth 1-1 Mansfield

Weymouth 1-2 Crawley

Woking 3-2 Histon

York 1-0 Salisbury

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

(table with 43/46 games played)

1 - Luton (95)

2 - Grays (87)

3 - Rushden (83)

4 - York (81)

5 - Oxford (71)

6 - Crawley (70)

[Chao Yang]

*knock on wood* Let's go Luton~

[ectric23]

its good to see easton get himself a goal come on luton back to league 2!

[ScottleeSV]

Closing stages of the season now

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

10/04/10 - Thank God this is real

The atmosphere on the coach heading home was predictably high spirited.

‘The Town are going up! The Town are going up! Oh now you gonna believe us, oh now you gonna believe us, oh now you gonna believe usssssss, the town are going up’.

Nicholls was the instigator, wandering up and down the aisle waving his hand around like a conductor at the opera. In his free hand he had a can of Carling.

Not such a happy bunny was Brian. He returned from the toilet just after we got on the A1 with an awkward grimace on his face. I thought he might be constipated. I wasn’t too far off the mark.

“The toilet’s broken!” he announced, retaking his seat next to me. “Now I’m going to have to hold it in until we get to the next services”.

“I’m sure you’ll cope. Besides, in my opinion better a broken toilet than one you have to pay for”.

“You still refusing to use the ones in the offices?”

“Yep”.

“I’ve used one of them. The ground floor one. Just once, mind. It was the other day after training. I didn’t want to but I was absolutely bursting for a pee. I completely forgot about the 20p thing until I was right outside the door. By that point I couldn’t be bothered going back out into the stadium”.

“Good for you”.

‘We ARE top of the league, say we are top of the league. We ARE top of the league, say we are top of the league!’

It was almost like we were travelling back on some boozed up supporter coach. Brian meanwhile had a new topic of conversation.

“I bought the new Football Manager the other day”.

“New? They come out in about October don’t they?”

“Well okay, I bought the latest Football Manager then. I took a look at some of mine and your stats. Very interesting. Very interesting indeed. In fact, according to Sports Interactive, I’m a better manager than you even though I’ve never managed”.

“That’s only because you’ve been around donkeys years being an assistant manager where as I’m fairly new to the game. The version you’ve got won’t have taken into account my amazing Live Bunny win, or the forthcoming league title. On the next one I’ll probably be labelled as Hot Prospect, or Young Wonder Manager. Something”.

“Yeah maybe”.

‘Champion-ay! Champion-ay! Aw-whey, aw-whey, aw-whey!’

“Hey hey!” I shouted, twisting around in my seat. “I draw the line at that one! We’re not champions yet. Go back to singing some of the other ones”.

Nicholls though was too shagged to sing anything else. With a shrug of his shoulders he slumped back down in his seat and the session was over.

“Those stats on Football Manager are ridiculous anyway” Brian continued, pulling his Blackberry out. “I made a note of some of them. Listen to this. Apparently your best attribute is working with youngsters, for which you score 14 out of 20”.

“I don’t even teach any youngsters. I don’t take the youth team”.

“Exactly”.

“What are my worst stats?”

“Well, you only score 1 for physiotherapy but that’s fair enough I suppose. The one you’re really not going to agree with is their assessment of the way you motivate players. They only give you 1 out of 20 for that too”.

“The way I motivate players?”

“Yeah, your motivation stat it’s called”.

“What a load of garbage”.

“Yeah. And for level of discipline you only got 2 out of 20”.

“Jesus. And you wonder why I don’t play it anymore”.

Just then lots of cheers sounded out from the back of the coach. Keane and Daniels had run to the back to pull a moony (both sets of trousers were already around their knees). This could mean only one thing; an attractive female driver had slipped into a holding position behind the coach.

“Idiots!” Brian muttered under his breath. “Are you not going to say anything to them?”

“Nah, just a couple of lads having fun”.

-----------

Most of the rest of the journey was fairly mundane. I will mention one more thing though. Clint Easton was the man who spotted it. We were just heading back into Luton at the time.

What he drew my attention to, and indeed that of everybody else on the coach, was the new mega complex Luton Lightning will be playing at next season. Even from this distance, it sure as hell looked a lot more complete than the last time I’d seen the place. Whole buildings were erect now, and most of the enormous car park was finished too. And unless I was mistaken, that huge metallic structure I was looking at in the middle there was the back of a very large football stand.

“Seems very real now doesn’t it?” Pilkington pondered out loud.

“You’re telling me” someone replied softly.

Suddenly Nicholls found a second wind. As did everyone else.

'Who are ya? Who are ya? Who are ya? Who are ya?'

[ScottleeSV]

13/04/10 - Plus three

This week has been hectic so far, and it only stands to get even more hectic as we pull closer to Saturday. League title fever has officially swept the town. People keep stopping me in the street wanting to talk about THE big match. What used to be a five minute trip to the corner ship now seems to take twenty minutes at the bare minimum. Often in the past I’ve stated how it doesn’t actually feel like the town has 5000 fans of the club. This week, just from walking from here to there, it feels like there’s 25000.

Everybody’s really excited too. Except for Caroline, who hates big matches as it means she has to deal with more ticket requests. Come Wednesday afternoon though there was finally light at the end of a long tunnel for her.

“Done!” she exclaimed, slamming the phone back down on its handset.

“Done what?”

“Sold all the tickets. There are now officially no more seats left for Saturday. All 10300 have gone”.

“Jesus. I can’t remember that happening since I’ve been here!”

“So if we usually get about 5000, that means we’ve got about 5300 glory hunters coming” Darren pointed out with more than little trace of cynicism. "Great".

“What’s a glory hunter?” Nicky asked.

I decided to take the lead on that one.

“Essentially it’s someone who enjoys football but can only ever motivate themselves to go to the really big games i.e. the big cup ties or the big end of season games like this Saturday. Some of the more regular fans like Darren frown upon such supporters”.

At this point the women in the room all glanced at each other. Then they pulled some funny expressions, Brenda included. I got the impression there was an undercurrent here I wasn’t yet privy too.

“What?” I asked.

“Well” said Brenda. “Going by the definition you’ve just provided, Nicky, Caroline, and my good self are all glory hunters”.

“What do you mean – “

“What she means is, they’re all going to the Wimbledon match” Darren answered before I could even finish the question. “They’ve all bought tickets”.

I didn’t know how to react to that. This lot go to an actual match? Why?

“Why?”

“Because – well - because we’re your friends” Caroline replied. The way she said it was if she thought the answer had almost been to obvious to justify saying it out loud.

“Right” I said slowly, still with a flummoxed look on my face.

“Look, this is a big match, right?” – Caroline.

“Huge”.

“The biggest in the whole two years you’ve been here, right?”

“Definitely”.

“Win this match and Luton have won a big championship, right?”

“Right”.

“That’s what we thought. So, just as a one-off, we’re all coming to support you”.

Nicky and Brenda nodded in agreement. Brenda then reached into her drawer and pulled out a Luton home shirt.

“We kept these from the five a side. We’re going to wear them to game so we fit in with everyone else”.

More nods from around the room. I had to admit I was touched. Very touched. Hoping it wasn’t showing too much, I stood up and cleared my throat. I hoped there wasn't any trace of a tear in my eye because it sure felt like there was one there somewhere!

“Well. Err, I really appreciate that. Thanks. I hope you all enjoy it”.

“I’m coming to support you as well” Darren announced with a cheeky grin. “That’s nice of me too, don’t you think?”

“No, you’re just going along just to watch the team. These three are coming for me. In fact you know what? On the whole I think I prefer glory supporters to the normal ones”.

Darren chuckled and shook his head disbelievingly.

“Yeah we’re gonna be singing ‘Go Luton United!” Nicky declared, fist-pumping upwards like Superman.

“Town, Nicky. Luton Town”.

“Now you see I don’t get that. Southend is a town, but their team has United on the end. Not town”.

“That’s different”.

“How?”

“I don’t know. It just is. Why do you have millions of pairs of shoes? Nobody knows that either. It just is”.

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

Making the excuse that I needed the toilet, I left the office and headed for the player’s tunnel (I was feeling emotional and needed some fresh air). Once outside, I took a few steps forward onto the grass and let the wind hit my face. It was almost hard to believe that just a few short days from now I was going to see this stadium completely packed to the rafters, everyone around me baying for the win that would seal the title. Incredible.

As I stood there, I became aware of movement behind me and to the right. I sensed it was Fred and that worried me. Fred hates anyone who goes on the pitch when it’s not either a match or a training session. When this unspoken rule gets broken, he’s not shy in showing his disdain. There aren’t any airs and graces with him either. He’ll just as quickly threaten you with his pitchfork whether you’re a boot cleaner or the owner of the club.

Imagine my surprise then when today he just walked past my back and carried on his merry way.

“Don’t worry we’ll be fine, lad” he whispered gruffly at the moment of passing.

I really appreciated that.

[Panpardus]

Okay, just read the full 33 pages, I remember reading a fair bit of it before.

Surprised I haven't commented before.

I was going to say that this was a fantastic story and one of my favourites on the forum, but after bagging out Droylsden I hope the Gray's fans find the bus and burn it down with all the players on board.

With the 1300 odd crowd that turned up to the Bloods game, 1000 would have been travelling Luton fans, they don't get the biggest crowds there.

Is Pacey the manager in 09? or the chairman.

[Valo]

Amazing story, just finished it all.

This is the inspiration for me writing my own.

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks, guys. I'm really glad you've both enjoyed reading the story. Yeah I was a touch generous with Droylsden's support lol.

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

16/04/10 - Drinking with the enemy

Tonight I met with Brian and Darren down The Hatters. Me and Darren had a pint of Tetleys, Brian a pint of Elk’s Judgment. I was afraid the pub might be full of Luton fans sneaking in one last drink before the big day. For a Friday night though it wasn’t that lively. Having said that, The Hatters Arms has always been a pub for all days rather than a place like one of those in the centre of town that themselves out on a weekend but hardly get anyone in Sunday to Thursday.

“Have you thought about what the scenes are going to be like at the final whistle when we’ve got it won?” Brian asked me.

“IF we get it won” I corrected him. “Although I have to admit, yes I have thought about it. I had a fantasy the other day that after the win, I immediately quit the job right there in the stadium. Then, just as I’m walking out, Erica chases me into the car park and we kind of copy the last scene from Commando. You know, when Arnie’s walking off the beach with his daughter?”

My two companions both nodded, Darren more vigorously than Brian.

“So anyway, in the fantasy, when she catches up to me she says – ‘stop, we want you to carry on leading the team next season, James. Whatever it takes, you’re coming back”.

“Do you end up sleeping with her in this fantasy?” Brian enquired.

“No. So then I say – ‘this was the last time, Erica’. So she shrugs and says – ‘until the next time’. Then I say – “

“Noooooo chance!” Darren finished, really slowly and in the rough accent of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“Right. Yeah. So then after that, I turn around, get into this helicopter that’s waiting for me, and leave the club forevermore".

“You mean a seaplane”.

“No a helicopter. This is still Luton, not a dictator’s island off the coast of South America".

In the middle of the laughter that followed, a bald man walked up to our table. It was Steve.

“Well if it isn’t the guy who’s gonna try and steal my dreams tomorrow!” I exclaimed, offering my hand out. Steve shook it and sat down.

“Yeah right” he eventually replied. “I doubt we'll win tomorrow”.

The rest of the introductions didn’t take long. Both Brian and Darren had met Steve before. After a minute of light banter, Steve went and fetched himself a pint of Laughter in the labyrinth. The picture of that, by the way, depicted a jester chuckling to himself in the middle of a hedge maze. I’d declined to try it when first coming in, but with Steve’s insistence that it really was good, I took a quick sip. Not bad, I suppose. Still not as good as Tetleys though.

“Where are you staying?” I asked him.

“Some place just outside of town. I’ve already dropped my stuff off there”.

“Why don’t you just let him stay at yours?” Brian asked.

“Too unethical, Brian” I replied. “If the media found out he’d stayed at mine the night before the game and we ended up losing, it just gives them ammunition to say it happened because I got too chummy with the opposition manager. They’ll moan I should have stayed away from him. In fact it wouldn’t be below some of them to start speculating on whether Steve cast his eye over my tactics notes whilst I was in the toilet or something, and that was why we lost”.

“And if we won the game” Darren interjected. “Then they might say it was only because your old buddy rolled over for you as a favour?”

“Yep, spot on”.

As Brian then obliged Darren’s question as to whether he’d consider trying for any more management jobs soon, my eyes bounced over to the group of girls at the next table. There were five of them, and at least three were very attractive.

“So how’s Chantelle?” Steve asked, perhaps in response to seeing where my attention had been diverted.

‘Christ, I thought I’d told everybody. Every time I think I have told everybody, one more person seems to pop up who doesn’t yet know’.

I gave Steve the shortest of short versions, being careful to leave out the sideshow with Eugene. I just couldn’t be bothered with that part. I never can be bothered with that part. Who'd want to tell that part?

“I’m single too now” Steve responded. “Me and Jennifer split up. Long story. Don’t want to go into it”.

“S__t! Sorry to hear that, mate”.

“Nah doesn’t matter” he insisted, shaking his defiantly. He then picked up his beer and raised it four foot off the table. “Who needs women when our destination is the top of world football, right?”

“Absolutely!”

“Yeah!”

“Spot on!”

The rest of us all joined him in raising a toast, even though in Brian’s case he’s happily married. As Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode then came on the jukebox, I glanced at the group of girls again and privately lamented that I would just love to get to know the one with the black hair and red skirt. Still, even attempting such a thing on the eve of this match would be madness, wouldn’t it?

“So err” Darren began slowly, his head facing Steve. “Are you gonna do us a favour tomorrow then, you know, take it a bit easy so we can get home and hosed? It’s not like you’ve got anything left to play for is it?”

“On the contrary, we might not have anything to play for anymore but I still want the prestige of beating Luton on their own turf. If it was the last game of the season then maybe I would roll over for James, but you’ve still got two games more after this, and one of those is at home to bloody Kettering. No we’ll be trying out best, mate, of that you can be sure”.

“Right, no worries”.

I stayed silent throughout this and looked at my beer. So he’d be going all out for a result. I’d already known he would though, hadn’t I? Or like Darren, had I thought he might take it easy just for this one game? I don’t know. Could Steve mastermind two wins over us in the same season? Could he do that? We’d just have to see. He was right on one thing though; if we couldn’t win one out of Wimbledon, Kettering, and Weymouth then we didn’t deserve to go up as champions.

‘Please let’s get it right first time, boys. We don't want a mass panic on our hands'.

[Valo]

You'll smash Wimbledon

[ScottleeSV]

Let's hope!

----------

17/04/10 - Frayed nerves

On the morning of the game I tried to keep everything as normal as possible. First I did a hundred press-ups. Then I got showered and shaved. Then I walked Bambi. Then I came back, had my cereal and watched some Sky Sports News. Nobody mentioned Luton. Lots of promotion and relegation battles coming to a head up and down the country; nothing especially interesting about Luton’s.

My phone was going ten to the dozen but I wasn’t answering anybody. At just past 1pm I went into my bedroom and put my best dark black suit on. That just made me look like a solicitor again so I took it off and put some more normal stuff on. Then I grabbed my car keys and headed for the door. I’d deliberately timed my departure so that I’d reach ground at the last possible minute before anyone started panicking.

Fans hanging out in and around the car park. Lots of fans. Lots and lots of fans. Thank God for the extra stewards there to clear a path so I could park up. I almost had to beep my horn at one point.

Cyril and Lee were clearly doing great business today. Lot of fans were crowded around the port-a-cabin. By the looks of it they had some kind of special edition champions t-shirt on sale. Wouldn’t it be funny if we blew it, and those t-shirts became a lie? Actually no it wouldn’t.

I went into the main building and through to the tunnel area. I could see some sort of organisational commotion going on just a few yards away in the direction of the pitch, but before checking it out I had a peak around the changing room door to see if the players had turned up. They had.

“Alright, lads?”

“Yeah” - Byrne.

“Hey boss” – Pilkington.

“Yeah not bad” –T. James.

Now I checked on that aforementioned commotion. It centred on a giant polystyrene football about six foot wide and six foot tall. I hadn’t noticed it previously because five men were crowded around it, one of them Glynn. I didn’t recognise any of the other men.

“What this?” I asked.

“Ah, James!” Glynn replied merrily. “You’re just in time”.

“For what?”

“The festivities! With it being such a landmark game, I’ve organised some pre-match entertainment. Remember, some of the fans here today won’t be regulars. Some might not even have ever been before. I want to install in those people the subliminal message that Luton Town Football Club isn’t just about football, it’s about entertainment”.

I glanced around the helpers, then to the giant football again, then out into the stadium where half the anticipated crowd had already taken their seats. After a moment’s consideration, I decided I couldn’t see a problem with the concept of pre-match entertainment. Not that it would have made any difference if I had.

“Sounds good. Okay”.

“Right then!” said Glynn. “Take it away, lads!”

The four helpers began to push the giant football out onto the pitch. The moment their feet touched grass, the music on the speakers changed to the opening bars of a rock song I thought I recognised but I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Once in the centre circle, three of the helpers pulled away to set off some party poppers whilst the fourth stayed to open a hatch on the side of the football. Out jumped a weird guy dressed like a mocked up 80’s rock star. He had a microphone in his hand. Right on cue he began to sing and dance.

‘Welcome to the jungle! – We got fun and games! – We got everything you want – Honey we know the names – We are the people that you find – Whatever you may need – We are the people that you find – Whatever you may need – If you got the money, honey we got your disease!’

Now I knew why the intro had sounded so familiar. Everybody recognises that song even if they don’t like rock music.

“Pretty neat, huh?” Glynn asked me. He was nodding his head up and down to the music, a big smile on his face.

“Yeah, real classy that. Have you seen Brian around?”

“What? Oh. Brian. Yeah. He was in the canteen earlier. Mind you, the directors and their guests were planning on using it as a kind of makeshift meeting place just for today, and I saw them all heading up there about ten minutes ago. So maybe Brian’s not there anymore? I don’t know”.

‘In the jungle! – Welcome to the jungle – Feel my – my- my- my – serpentine!’

The way the guy was dancing around out there you might have thought he was on drugs. Still, I supposed maybe that was part of the act. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it. I couldn't hear any booing.

Anyway, without further word I turned on my heels and went to find Brian. Not long until kick-off.

[Valo]

Premature celebrations, don't let it backfire...

[ScottleeSV]

17/04/10 - Frayed nerves (part 2)

Before going upstairs I nipped into the office to make a coffee. There is a coffee machine in the canteen but it costs a pound to use. Down in the communal offices, using the kettle, it’s free. Having said that I still sometimes use the machine when I’m in a rush (or just feeling lazy).

Anyway, mug in hand I ascended to the second floor. Sat at a table with his head facing the window was Brian. There was no sign of any directors.

“Watching the rock star?” I asked him.

“Hey! And err, no. He went off a few minutes ago. There's some stilt men out there now”.

“Eh?”

“Take a look for yourself”.

I went over to Brian’s table. Sure enough, both Axl Rose and his giant football had vanished. Out there now were ten guys running around on giant stilts. They must have been twenty feet high at least. In accompaniment to this merry troupe was a fast version of that cheesy theme music you usually hear at a circus. Not that I’ve ever been to a circus.

“Come on” I said, decidedly unimpressed. “Time’s cracking on. Let’s go down and make sure the lads are ready”.

“Right you are, cap”.

“Where are the directors anyway? Glynn told me they were all using the canteen as a meeting base”.

“Some of them were in here for a while but then they went into the boardroom for pre-match drinks. All of them have turned up again, just like last week”.

Sure enough, as Brian and I walked back through the small stretch of corridor that separates the canteen from the stairwell, we could just vaguely hear the sound of voices from behind the boardroom door on the opposite wall. No doubt the uppers were all in there crowded around each other in their expensive suits clutching champagne glasses and congratulating each other on the league title, even though they’ve contributed practically nothing towards it.

“Decided on the team yet?”

“Yep. I’m not using Pond or Deeney today. Keane can play right back and Gnakpa can play centre half. I want nothing but experience out there today, even if one or two have to play slightly out of position”.

“Are you still going to stick with Bridges?”

“Yeah. Bridges and Cadders up front. Spencer on the bench”.

As we entered the tunnel area again, I could immediately see there had been yet another change of act out on the pitch. The stilt men had all disappeared. In their place was a dog trainer running a couple of border collies through their paces, getting them to jump through large hoops and fences made out of horizontal poles. As a backdrop, who let the dogs out, was playing on the speakers.

“Jesus, Glynn”, I remarked, bowling up to him. “I’ve seen world cups open with less messing about than this”.

“Oh relax!” he replied. “It’s all in the spirit of the occasion”.

“Yeah well please leave just a little of money in the coffers for next season, won’t you? I wouldn’t mind having something known as a wage budget to play with once you’re finished doing The Royal Variety Show”.

“Hey hey” said Brian, intervening by putting his hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Stay focused on the football”.

He was right, of course. Turning around we went into the changing rooms. Everyone was present now. They hadn't all got into their kits yet though so I waited for them to get that sorted and then I moved into my speech.

“Okay, listen up everyone! I’m not going to drag this out too long because I don’t want to overcomplicate matters. We’ve got ourselves into this position by virtue of hard work, good play, good teamwork, devotion to the task in hand, and dedication. We’ve done these things well all season and I don’t want today to be any different.

“Yes there’s a big crowd out there. Yes it’s going to be noisy. Yes we all know the implications of what we’re about to achieve. Don’t let it distract you though. Don’t let it dominate your thoughts too much. Just concentrate on playing your own game and working as a team! Stay focused. Stay on the ball. I don’t mean that literally, by the way. I mean stay focused, basically, like what I said before I said to stay on the ball. Anyway, something else to remember is that – “

Just then the door opened behind me and the Axl Rose impersonator stuck his head around it. Up close he looked more like Alice Cooper. Sweat was on his face and he looked stoned.

“Hey man. Sorry to interrupt. Can I bum a smoke?”

“Out!” I told him, closing the door in his face. “Christ it’s like Grand Central f__king Station in here today. Where was I? Oh yeah. Stay focused and don’t lose the ball! Keep your heads out there because it might get frosty. And watch your tackling! Refs love to make a name for themselves in big games. Right, get out there and make me the proudest man alive! Get out there and make this town proud! Get out there and make this club proud! Get em’ out there, Kevin! Off you go!”

Roaring in unison they all got up and formed a line. Then Nicholls led them out into the corridor.

Wimbledon, playing in their traditional blue shirts, were already out there waiting. Steve was stood at the front of that particular line, and in front of him were a congregation of match officials. Beyond said officials, out on the pitch, there was now a magician in a black cape stood behind a large table. Just at the moment I looked at him, he lifted up a hat to reveal a rabbit. The spectators around the ground roared their approval.

“Christ, another act” I said to Brian, as we took our place at the front of the Luton line.

The referee seemed as unimpressed with Glynn’s pre-match entertainment as I was. In the nervous moments that followed there was a brief hold-up whilst the fourth official removed the magician (and his rabbit) from the pitch.

‘Bring out the champions!’ chanted the crowd meanwhile. ‘Bring out the champions’.

“Good luck, mate” said Steve.

“And yourself, although I owe you one today, remember?”

“Well maybe I’ll make it a season double”.

“We’ll see”.

And then, without warning, the men in black began to lead the teams out onto the field. Hearts on fire, that old Rocky tune, began to play as they walked. The noise from around Kenilworth Road was unbelievable.

I just hoped we didn’t let them down.

[Valo]

Get on with the game

[ScottleeSV]

17/04/10, League Match 44

Luton Town v AFC Wimbledon

GK – Dean Brill (109 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (50 apps, 4 goals)

DR – Keith Keane (93 apps, 11 goals)

DC – Claude Gnakpa (101 apps, 2 goals)

DC – Tony James (53 apps, 2 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (69 apps, 20 goals)

MC – Derek Niven (34 apps, 3 goals)

ML – Clint Easton (28 apps, 2 goals)

MR – Michael Taylor (35 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Michael Bridges (35 apps, 15 goals)

FC – Danny Cadamateri (40 apps, 13 goals)

It was 3.04pm by my watch when we finally kicked off. Not to worry. Bridges and Cadamateri got us started and straight away the ball ended up going out on the far side. I spent most of the first few minutes absorbed in the atmosphere more than I was the game. The noise continued to be deafening. It was also strange to look around the place and see hardly an empty seat.

Rather predictably, with no pressure on their shoulders, it was Wimbledon who started the brightest. Garrard fired over from distance in the 3rd minute before Adjai teased Keane down the right wing two minutes after that. Keane dived in and missed both ball and man. Adjai now had space to pick out a cross. Over it went and Brill flapped at it, getting the barest of touches on the ball as it continued on its way through the crowd and over to the far side of the box.

Finn retrieved it and chipped back into the danger zone. This time Kedwell was there ahead of Brill (and the defence). It was a good chance but Kedwell’s glancing header was downwards and wide. Lucky escape.

More was to come from the Wombles. Not long after, Garrard collected a knockdown from Adjai and dribbled towards the area. What happened next was a bit like one of those American Football plays where loads of people get so absorbed with off the ball stuff they forget about the person carrying the football. So it was here. Garrard somehow managed to dribble his way into the area just left of central. The ball was on his left foot and he had only Brill to beat.

The shot was not caught sweetly. Hit left footed it went across the keeper but, agonizingly for the Dons fans, a foot wide. Steve was a quarter way into a premature celebration at the point it crossed the by-line. Once he’d come back to earth he glanced at me with a smile as if to say – almost got you there!

We had to get better. We just had to. In the 17th minute we had our first sniff, Nicholls ghosting in at the back of a crowded area to attempt a diving header. It was a strange thing to do from that position but I was sort of happy he did it just so we now had a shot on goal under our belts in the stats column. It wasn’t a bad effort anyway. It only went a yard wide and the crowd enjoyed it.

Next up came a very strange moment. Michael Taylor performed some trickery on the right wing and swung in a cross that was hopeful more than anything. Defender Toulson was stationed close to the near post and it was he the ball dipped towards. Toulson swung a left leg at it; an attempted a volley away.

He missed it though. The ball hit Toulson's standing leg and deflected towards the goal line. He recovered to try and swipe it clear but the keeper got in his way and Toulson could only slice it desperately upwards into the roof of the net. Unbelievable. How many own goals have we profited from since the turn of the year? I don’t know but it’s got to be a fair few. The crowd didn’t care of course. They were going bananas. So was I!

All I remember about the next ten minutes were songs about going up, being champions, and getting back to the football league, all the classics associated with unbridled league joy. The actual football was mostly higgledy-piggledy, Wimbledon trying to regain their composure and Luton wondering what on earth the game plan was supposed to be now!

Steve will probably have been disappointed with his side’s efforts over the course of the remainder of the half. Main looped a header two feet wide and one foot high, but that was the best of it after the goal. We on the other hand conjured two more really good chances. The best came in the 38th minute when the diminutive Niven rampaged towards the penalty area before unleashing a monster of a low drive with his wrong foot. Keeper Pullen tipped it wide. But only just.

The other half chance went to Bridges, who eventually collapsed in a pathetic heap rather than take the ball on and try and score. The ref clearly thought about booking him for diving but then decided against it.

On hearing the whistle for half time, the crowd all roared their approval. Myself, Brian, and the players meanwhile shaped to head for the dressing room.

As we neared the tunnel, I saw Glynn hovering nearby with a walkie-talkie in his hand.

“Okay” he spoke into it. “Send out the dragon”.

Moments later a forty foot conga of people all hidden under a Chinese dragon costume waltzed out of the home dressing room and made their way onto the pitch. There must have been twenty sets of legs under that thing, minimum. Just as the dragon reached the grass, on came the circus music again.

“Just ignore it” said Brian in my ear.

“Don’t worry” I replied. “I intend to”.

I was forty five minutes from glory. I didn't care about no chinese dragon.

[STFCDP]

For the only time in my life I think I have to say come on Luton!

[anirishlad]

haha this is brilliant!