Luton Town : Staring into the Abyss

ScottleeSV · November 12, 2011

01/10/10 - Love favours the prepared mind

As mobile phone conversations at the office go, this one was definitely like no other.

“You want to get what?!” I asked.

“Wedding favours”.

“And what are they when they’re around?”

“They’re like tiny little gifts you give to the guests as a thanks for coming”.

“Gifts? Gifts like what?”

“Well, they can be anything. The ones that I’ve spotted though are like little sweets in boxes that are wrapped like presents, and on top there’s a candle for each one. Oh, I thought we could have fans as well. I mean like Japanese type fans that you wave next to your face. The ones on the site I’ve been looking at have your own personalised names on them, and they go next to the desert spoons at the dinner. I thought though we could have the sweet boxes just above the desert spoons and the sweet boxes next to the fans. It'll look ace”.

‘What in the f__king hell is she talking about?’

Originally, when this little chat had started, I'd gone into the corridor. Such was my bewilderment at what she was asking me however, I bizarrely found myself wandering past the corridor and into the player’s tunnel. Out here was Kindra, plus three other people I didn’t recognise. They were standing outside the door to the away dressing room.

“Look, whatever” I eventually told my fiancé. “If these things are reasonably cheap then yeah, okay, fine”.

“Aw cool. Okay then”.

Without saying goodbye, I closed the handset. She wouldn’t be bothered by my lack of phone etiquette though, not now that I’d said yes to the – what was it?

‘Wedding favours?’

Yeah that was it. Wedding favours. Jesus.

“Hi James” said Kindra.

“Hi”.

The three people with her consisted of one woman and two men. My sixth sense of smell told me they were actors.

“We’re just about to do a scene” said the woman I didn’t know.

“In there?” I enquired, pointing to the away dressing room.

“Yeah. Ricky’s just setting everything up again. We kind of messed it up the first two times”.

“Ah. I’ve meaning to speak to young Ricky”.

This was because I wanted to ask him when he was planning on shooting my scenes. Everyone else seems to have been doing their scenes lately except for me. Brenda, Nicky, Darren, Kindra; they’ve all done one. Not me though. It’s like I’ve been forgotten. I’m not saying I actually want to be in this damn movie now. But hey, if I am going to be in it, it would be nice to know when I'm going to get to do something.

Putting my phone away, I opened the door and walked inside. What I saw in front of me made me forget my question.

Lying on the massage table was Kevin Nicholls. Or at least I thought it was him. Hard to tell for sure because he was lying on his front. Sticking out of his back was an axe, except it wasn’t actually an axe, obviously, because that would just be crazy. It was one hell of a clever prosthetic though. It looked very real to the untrained eye.

“Oh, it’s you” said Ricky, before immediately turning back to the cameramen he’d been talking to.

His buddy Gerald was standing in the corner on the phone to someone.

“I would say hey” said Nicholls in the meantime. “But I’ve been told I’m not allowed to move my head”.

“Fair enough”.

Gerald now ended his call and strode up to Ricky with a smile on his face.

“The pyrotechnics crew are all booked for the tomorrow”.

“Excellent! I’ve been looking forward to the toilet scene all week”.

“Listen, guys” I interrupted. “I was just wondering – “

“Not now, James. Sorry. Tight schedule. We’re in the middle of a scene here. Step aside if you will”.

Taking my arm in hand, Ricky guided me to a position behind the cameras at the back. Then Gerald nipped over to the door and called through to Kindra and co that shooting was about to recommence.

“Okay then – axe discovery scene – take three – annnnnd action”.

(Gerald then snapped his black snappy thing)

Kindra and her buddies burst through the door on cue, all with wide-eyed looks on their faces. The woman who’d spoken to me outside was early twenties, well dressed, and gorgeous. The two men were also early twenties. One was blonde and one dark haired. Both also gorgeous (if that’s what you’re into). No ugly folk here.

The well dressed woman suddenly saw Nicholls and screamed. Well, pretended to scream.

“Oh mother of Mary!” then exclaimed one of the men. “It’s Alderman! Looks like someone took him outta the team”.

“Yeah” said Kindra. “Permanently!”

My mobile went off at that point.

Everyone groaned and Ricky yelled CUT. Then Kindra and the others briefly glanced at me disapprovingly before leaving the room again. His neck obviously feeling very stiff meanwhile, Nicholls groaned and rolled his eyeballs.

Perhaps because instinctively I wanted to avoid a lecture from Ricky on what-not-to-do-on-a-movie-set, I did answer my incoming call, despite the fact I could see from the caller I.D it was nobody more important than Chantelle.

“What is it now?”

“That’s a nice way to greet me! Anyway, just one more thing and then I promise I won’t bug you anymore. You know we said we were going to get that gazebo in walnut colour?”

“Did we?”

“Yeah. Well it turns out they don’t do that type anymore. So I thought we could get the maple one? But according to the website, maple costs about fifty pounds more than walnut. I don’t really get why that is but – “

“Yeah okay Jesus Christ fine!”

And with that I flipped my phone closed.

When I looked up I saw that Ricky, Gerald, and his other camera crew were all looking at me sternly. No surprise there.

“Sorry” I said. “I’m turning it off. See? Turning it off. It’s off now. It's off".

A minute later, the lights were rolling, Gerald was actioning, the black thing was snapping, Kindra and co were re-entering, and the well dressed woman was screaming. In that order.

“Oh mother of Mary! It’s Alderman! Looks like someone took him outta the team”.

“Yeah. Permanently!”

“Oh my god!” exclaimed the well dressed woman. “We gotta get outta here!”

Heaving like he was about to throw up, the blonde guy now grabbed the other guy by the shirt collar and thrust him against the wall.

“Dammit, Niall! Tell us what you saw back there!”

Niall counter-pushed the other guy off him and stood up close to his face.

“I didn’t get a good look at him. It was dark! The guy had a hairy face though. I saw that much”.

‘What the hell IS a gazebo anyway?’

ScottleeSV · November 12, 2011

02/10/10 - Away by the sea

Today was our away trip to Bournemouth. I’ve been rather looking forward to this one. When I was kid, me, my dad, my mum, and my grandparents (on my mum’s side) all went there for a weekend during the summer. This was back in the days where going on a seaside holiday in Britain was still a thing families did. It was my grandparents who’d recommended the place. They were living down that neck of the woods at the time, in nearby Wimborne.

What I remember most about the trip is running around on the expansive sandy beaches. All English beaches I’ve seen to since then have been mostly cockleshell-dominated rubbish. Not Bournemouth. Bournemouth actually felt like what a proper beach should be like, the type you might even find abroad.

This being October, I obviously wasn’t going to lie on the beach today. What I did do was use the beach as a starting point for taking a walk through the Bournemouth Central Gardens. There are three of them in total; lower, central, and upper. All three contained many hidden treasures, my personal favourites being the mini-golf and the rock gardens. I carded three over par, by the way. It was hard.

There was also a museum I wanted to go to but I didn’t get around to it. Those gardens are deceptively large. Just when you think you’re going to run out of pathways to go down, another one pops up.

The football team play at Dean Court, a few miles from the sea. They were formed as Boscombe FC in 1890 before changing to Bournemouth and Boscombe Athletic Football Club in 1923. It wasn’t until 1972 that they finally changed their name to what it is today.

For most of their existence they’ve plied their trade in the third and fourth tiers, briefly going up to what is now The championship in 1987 only to drop back down again three years later.

Two years ago they started on minus seventeen points in League Two but still managed to survive. Against us that term they won 3-0 at Dean Court before going down 0-1 at Kenilworth Road.

Prior to today’s game I briefly bumped into Erica hanging around outside the referee’s quarters. That was a turn up for the books. Apparently the Bournemouth directors had invited our directors to a fancy lunch. That’s why she was here. Simon Keast and Gary Lee had also driven down. She was in a surprisingly jovial mood actually. Must have been one hell of a lunch.

I turned my mobile off before I went into the dressing room. The last thing I needed during the team-talk was a phone call from Chantelle about gazebos, or whatever. Usually I have to begrudgingly keep it switched on in case somebody important calls. Very unlikely though that someone in the football world would ring a manager at ten to three on a Saturday, right?

Had to make a few unwanted changes today. Bowditch was out so Dodds and Spencer started together. Not a good omen given how they’ve both been struggling for goals.

I also had Taylor and Buckley missing. Taylor developed a groin strain in training. Buckley slipped on some fake blood during his death scene the other day and bruised his hip.

The net result of this was that Claude Gnakpa would have to deputize on the right wing, a position he’s not very comfortable in at all. This meant McKerr would definitely have to play right back, and the knock-on effect of that was Dorian Moore coming in for another game at centre half. There were no such selection worries down the left hand side where we were unchanged.

“Tough one today” I told the boys. “Bournemouth have only two defeats from seven games so far and sit comfortably in the top half of the table. Do NOT take them lightly. We’re going to have to play very well today to get anything”.

As the teams ran out, Cyndi Lauper was singing Girls just wanna have fun. Bournmouth were in their traditional AC Milan replica shirts and we in our all-white.

ScottleeSV · November 13, 2011

02/10/10, League Match 8

Bournemouth v Luton Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (9 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (59 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Michael McKerr (8 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Tony James (66 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Dorian Moore (2 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (79 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (102 apps, 12 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (8 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Michael Taylor (47 apps, 3 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (33 apps, 12 goals)

FC – Louis Dodds (7 apps, 0 goals)

Although I enjoy visiting seaside towns, I don’t always enjoy the actual games. It’s the wind, you see. There’s always more wind by the sea. It gets in the way of the total football me and Brian try and get the players to play. I remember going to Weston Super Mare last season. The wind there was a joke. It was a constant arsehole when I played for Morecambe too.

As Nicholls tossed the coin today, I picked up a blade of grass and let it drop. Immediately it flew sideways twenty yards down the touchline. Not good.

That said; I can attest from personal experience that you never quite get used to playing in a gale. Conditions were just the same for The Cherries as they were for us. In the first fifteen minutes both sides struggled to make any sort of impression on the opposing goal.

Going back to that nickname for a moment – The Cherries. Just typing it makes me think of the cherries you see on fruit machines. Cherries always seem to be the lowest value line you can get. Makes me wonder if there’s ever been a team called The Lucky Sevens, or The Bells (both of which are usually good for a few quid). Although I suppose if a team was nicknamed The Bells they'd just keep getting called The Bell Ends.

In so far as today’s spinning of the reels was concerned, in the 19^th minute we hit the jackpot. Taylor dummied to cross level with the the area curled one in left footed. The ball evaded everyone because of its swerving, unpredictable flight path. Pulling away to the back post was Spencer. It was he who lifted a high foot up and poked it home. Goal!

If anybody needed that goal it was him. We just needed to lay one on a plate for Dodds now.

But first there was some defending to do. The wind seemed to have died down a touch and Bournemouth were the first to try and make hay whilst the sun was shining. Danny Hollands went on a surge towards the penalty area and laid it off to Hutton. The forward did a step-over and left the ball for Downes, who curled the ball inches wide. In golfing terms that was a pull. Should have at least hit the target.

During the uninspired period that followed, I couldn’t resist a glance up to the Bournemouth director’s box to see if Erica was there. She hardly ever goes to the games so it would have been nice to catch her eye and give her a little wink whilst we were one up. In the time it took my eyes to locate her however, I decided that such an act probably wouldn’t be a good idea just in case we ended up losing. I’d feel stupid then.

In the 32^nd minute Stubhaug proved himself to be a bit of a one-armed bandit. He punched when he should have caught and Price had the chance to blast one from the edge of the box. This was one of those uncomfortable moments where the ball either bulges the net or hits one of the bodies and stays out. Luckily for us, on this occasion at least, it was the latter

The home side were on top but they weren’t really creating many openings. As for our own performance in the final third, I didn’t know whether I should have been concerned or not. We’d had just one attack in the match. But we’d scored from it and were leading. So was it really an issue that needed addressing right now?

As I chewed it over (without gum), Bournemouth almost answered the question for me by going close yet again. This time it was from a free kick just outside the area. I don’t know what happened with the defensive organisation here but it was a shambles. The wall seemed to be on the opposite side to where it should have been. Downes smacked one after the softest of taps by Stewart and the ball flew inches over. Guaranteed goal if it had been a foot lower.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of a lacklustre half of football, the wind seemed to pick up again. Some old guy’s flat-cap flew off his head and went onto the pitch. Very funny. Credit to Michael Taylor for handing it back on his way off.

ScottleeSV · November 14, 2011

“It’s not bad out there, but we need an outlet. We need more counter-attacks, ones that actually look like culminating in a shot on goal. This isn’t a criticism, merely a suggestion for improvement. Bournemouth are obviously going to come at us second half so we need to box clever. We need to defend well, and attack well too. I’m only asking for those two things. It’s not a lot”.

David Bowie’s Heroes greeted the teams as they ran back out. It’s the sort of song that probably would have been more appropriate for when Bournemouth hosted Man Utd in the FA Cup, not Luton in a League Two fixture.

Just as I predicted, The Cherries came on strong at the start of half numeral two. Ashman rose high from a corner and headed onto the crossbar and over. Two minutes later, a wicked deflection off Keith Keane a full thirty yards out almost sent the ball spinning into the bottom right hand corner of Stubhaug’s net. I say almost because it went inches wide.

Perhaps disheartened by the injustice of the score-line, Bournemouth went off the boil. In the 53^rd minute, Poole dribbled infield and then ignored Gnakpa’s pleas for a pass on the right. Instead he jinked left (i.e. straight towards the goal). Dodds was screaming for a pass between two defenders here but Poole delayed and delayed and delayed. Finally, confronted with the edge of the penalty area, Poole released. Dodds then collected and stabbed towards goal. Jalal saved it.

Once again annoyed by the impotence of Dodds, I took him off on the hour and sent Buckley on. It wasn’t long before we created another chance. This time it was Taylor’s turn to go on a spellbinding run, only in his case he stayed close to the touchline. When the cross went in it was an absolute belter.

Spencer strangely decided to meet it with his head when it reached him, despite the ball being only two inches off the ground. Thus, the header inevitably went down into the turf. It also went back across the keeper, stranding him. Sadly the crossbar rescued Bournemouth and the lead remained at only one.

The wind was still blowing hard but it wasn’t a gale. It was manageable. Just! Turning back towards the stand during a break in play, I saw that Erica hadn’t come back out for the second half. She was probably still in the director’s lounge with a mineral water and a prawn sandwich.

A lull in chances was broken when The Cherries again won a free header from a corner and this time got it on target. Stubhaug pulled out a wonder block on the line and James hacked it clear.

Despite this, the overall run of play seemed a lot more even in this half. Bournemouth didn’t have a significant upper hand on us. I just wondered if our luck was going to hold out all the way to the end. I could hardly complain if it didn’t, given our recent run of draws and wins.

“Going to have to work on defending from corners” Brian mused, still dwelling on the Stubhaug save.

“I think the wind is throwing them off a bit, to be fair. If anything we’re going to have to work on defending corners when it’s windy. I’ll try and remember that. Oh, and defending free kick shots too. That wall in the first half was shocking”.

“Agreed”.

It was getting towards squeaky bum time now. In my case – squeaky feet time. As Wallwork failed to control a through ball and it ran through to Stubhaug, I began to fidget and walk up and down the touchline. I sensed we weren’t going to get a better chance to make the game safe than Spencer’s downwards header.

In the final ten minutes I tried to delay matters by making both of my final substitutions separately. First on went Kearns for Keane. Then Byrne replaced Daniels. Bournemouth had already made all theirs by this point. The Cherries fans showed me what they thought of my tactics by booing incessantly. Even the guy with the flat-cap was dishing it out with both barrels.

86 minutes – hearts in mouths as Connell waltzed inside Byrne and looked up to see who was in the area. Just as he was about to cross he seemed to decide at the last possible second to beat one more man. This he successfully accomplished, touching the ball wide of James. Then he did exactly the same to Moore. He was infield enough to shoot on the diagonal now! Was this going to be a wonder goal?

No. Connell squared for Wallwork. Easy goal but not a wonder goal; just a tap-in. Or at least it would have been if Wallwork hadn’t fluffed his kick. The ball hit his standing leg and deflected into Stubhaug’s arms. What a let-off.

And what a win! There were no more opportunities for the home side. We had won three priceless points. What a contrast to the 0-3 reverse at Dean Court two years ago.

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FULL TIME (att - 5079)

Bournemouth 0

Luton Town 1 (Spencer 19)

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(other results)

Accrington Stanley 1-4 Rochdale

Aldershot 2-2 Exeter

Brentford 0-3 Barnet

Chester 1-1 Notts County

Hereford 0-3 Darlington

Lincoln 3-2 Cheltenham

Oldham 1-0 Grimsby

Rotherham 2-0 Chesterfield

Walsall 2-1 Shrewsbury

Wycombe 3-2 Torquay

Yeovil 2-2 Grays

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

ScottleeSV · November 15, 2011

04/10/10 - Alex Polizzi reincarnate

When we arrived at the address, the estate agent was already there. He had oily slicked back hair; he looked like a shark. Me and Chantelle though had agreed beforehand that we weren’t going to let anyone bore us with a sales pitch. We wanted to walk around the house and judge it for ourselves. If we had any questions, we’d ask.

I wasn’t anticipating any major problems (unless there were hidden structural issues – but the surveyor would let us know if there were). The house had looked good on the internet, both inside and outside. It was also just under our budget of £300,000. I was already sold, to be honest.

“I’ve got goosebumps” Chantelle whispered to me, as we followed oil slick up to the door.

“Me too”.

As soon as we were inside, I informed oil slick of our plans to view the house undisturbed. He didn’t look impressed. Shrugging his shoulders, he put his clipboard back under his arm and headed for the kitchen. Because he was staying downstairs, we instinctively headed upstairs.

The first room we went into was what looked like the master bedroom. Good place to start.

“Quite nice” I commented, walking slowly around the bed.

“Hmm, I’m not sure”.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not very big is it? For a parent’s bedroom, I mean”.

I glanced around from corner to corner, evaluating the space. Seemed big enough to me. There was room for the double bed, room for the closets and wardrobes, room for drawers, radiators, a TV, a clothes horse. What more could you want?

“Looks alright to me” I said. “It doesn’t look any smaller than the bedroom we’ve got back at the flat, if I’m perfectly honest”.

“Yeah but that’s an apartment. This is a house. You’d think there’d be more space in the rooms, wouldn’t you? Given the price of the place, I thought there might even be an en-suite toilet or something. With a sink”.

“Does that matter?”

“If you want value for money - yes”.

We headed back to the landing. There were two other bedrooms to see on this floor but first there was the small matter of the bathroom.

As soon as I walked in I knew that this was the money room. What I was looking at was nothing short of irresistible. In the far corner was a large circular bath. The shower meanwhile had its own private cubicle over in the corner opposite. On one of the walls was the biggest bathroom cabinet you’ve ever seen in your life; very useful if you’re living with a woman! All in the all, very impressive. There was lots of 'space' too.

“Fantastic!” I said.

“What? Are you kidding?”

“Eh? No. Why?”

Chantelle walked over to the cabinet but stopped short of it and pointed to the wall instead.

“Look at the pattern of the tiles here, and then look at them on that wall over there. They don’t match. God knows what they were thinking when they did this room up”.

I looked at the two walls. They both looked the same to me. One had a pattern of black and white patterns on it and the other was the same. Was she barmy in the head?

Then I finally spotted it. The squares on the second wall were turned on diagonals, whereas on the first they weren’t. Subtle, but yeah, technically different. Given three or four years of sitting on the same bog I might actually have noticed myself.

Was it a big deal though? No.

“So what?” I asked.

“People will think we’re completely tasteless if they come around and see this”.

“We could always get a decorator in if you don’t like it”.

“Decorators cost money. And besides, if they start making the bathroom a no-go area we’ll have no bathroom for a while, and that’ll be a pain in the arse. That actually happened to me once. I asked the council to sort out my taps and they ended up destroying the whole bathroom for about two days straight. It was a nightmare”.

“Well let’s just keep the tiles the way they are then. You can hardly see the difference. I know I didn’t spot it”.

“I don’t know” she replied, turning away and folding her arms.

Sighing, I moved back to the doorway. I was in need of some serious fresh air now. Preferably alone.

“I’m going to go have a look at the garden” I told her blankly.

“Okay, I’ll have a look at the other bedrooms”.

When I went downstairs I had to give oil slick a second brush-off, which he wasn’t happy about. Stepping around him, I opened the back door and closed it behind me.

I know I’m not an expert but the garden looked alright to me. It was – well – a garden. What more was there to say?

A few minutes later, I heard the distinct echo of Chantelle’s heels coming down the stairs. There were no carpets in the house at the moment so the sound of every footstep seemed to carry a mile. Especially hers.

Another couple of minutes of near silence followed. Then the back door opened and out she came.

“Pretty neat, eh?” I grinned, gesturing towards the flower beds. “Even Alan Titchmarch himself would be proud of – “

“I don’t think we should get this one”.

“Get what?”

“The house”.

“You don’t want the house?”

“No. It’s awful”.

Looking solemn, she put her arms around me in a kind of bear hug.

“Well I think it’s okay” I risked saying.

“You’ve got to be kidding" she replied, stepping away again. "I’ve just looked at the downstairs and that’s not much better either. The dining room’s got redwood flooring. I can’t stand redwood. And the living room’s on the wrong side of the house. I told you the other week; I’ve got a real thing about living room’s facing the front garden. I can’t stand people and cars going past the window looking in at us all day. It's like a phobia I've got. That’s why I don’t mind the apartment that we’re in. Our bit starts on the first floor. Nobody can see in from down below".

“Right”.

"A cul-de-sac wouldn't be so bad. I suppose I could tolerate a front-facing living room then. At least there'd be hardly any traffic or people outside".

"Right".

"And anyway, we don't just want to pick the very first house do we? Not with the amount we're spending. We want to make sure we get it right".

"Yeah".

There really wasn’t much else I could say. Soon we went back inside and informed oil slick the answer was no.

Luckily, there were two other properties of a similar type he said he could show us that same evening.

‘F__k’s sake’ I thought as we headed back to the car.

Just as Chantelle was getting in the passenger side, I quickly began composing a text message as I walked around to my own side.

Sorry mate. Not gonna make that pint after all by looks of it

mark wilson27 · November 15, 2011

A good start to the League campaign Scottlee, hopefully you'll be a couple of places higher come May

Ceirdiff · November 15, 2011

Luton Town, L2 autautomatic :-D

Chantelles harsh, 300000 buys you an average sized 3bedroom house around here, decoration normally questionable as well...

Still loving the story though :-)

The Icepick · November 18, 2011

2 days without an update... Ouch, that hurts.

ScottleeSV · November 18, 2011

No cause for alarm. I've been on a mini-break in Belgium.

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06/10/10 - Toby's bad day

Today was finally my turn to be a film star. The experience really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be though, to be frank. Given the fact my character is only in two scenes, I thought I’d only be needed for half an hour or so. Turned out I was at the film crew's mercy for five or six hours. Most of the working day then.

The first thing I had to do was make-up. Ricky and co have been using one of the empty offices on the first floor for this. They’ve effectively turned it into a temporary make-up studio. A woman works for them called Jean, and basically all she does all day is stay in that room and do up any actor who goes in. In my case, just this process alone took up the entire half hour I thought would cover my whole shoot!

After make-up it was off to wardrobe. This is situated out in the car park, in the back of a huge van that’s been driving in and then driving off again at the end of every single day of filming. I had to be fitted out for a suit in the back of this van. Why I couldn’t just use one of my own suits is anyone’s guess. I did pose this question to one of the crew but they just mumbled something to the tune of - that’s not how it works in films, mate.

Once I was all done up and looking the part, I headed back to the building for actual filming. For some reason, Ricky wanted my second scene – my death scene – to be the one we filmed first. Said scene was to take place in the communal offices. The staff in there had been told they could have the afternoon off (it had all been cleared by Bob and Erica).

“Right, James” said Ricky, greeting me by the door. “Looking good, I see. If you just want to go in and sit behind your desk, we’ll be right with you. Don’t move any items on your desk. I’ve moved things around so they’re just the way I want them”.

“Okay”.

Butterflies inflicting havoc on my insides, I went and sat down. I was like this about five minutes before the cameras were ready to roll. I felt completely out of my comfort zone.

When everybody was set, Ricky gave me the briefest of brief pep talks. He told me to just go with the flow and to see how it went. There were no other actors in this first bit. I was going to be pretty much talking to myself. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Toby Stringfellow death scene take one – annnnd action!”

By the time Gerald snapped the snappy thing, I was already in my start position. This was to pretend I was busy typing something on the computer. As I was doing this, the phone on the desk rang.

“Hello” I said, picking it up. “Oh. It’s you. So go on then, how did it go? – What? – You’re kidding?! – Look, I don’t want to hear excuses, Rob. You should have had this sorted out by now! What exactly is it that you’re doing over there?! Sunning yourself up?! – Look, our next game is in four days. I swear to God, Rob, if we don’t have Messi in a London Lions shirt by then, you can start looking for a new job!”

And with that I slammed the phone down.

I was supposed to continue typing after this but instead I shook my head and looked at Ricky.

“CUT! What’s the matter?”

“Sorry, but I meant to ask you this before we started; why can’t we just be Luton Town? Why do we have to be this stupid made-up club?”

“James, nobody in America has heard of Luton. To Americans, England is London. With that in mind, we’re going with The London Lions. Very important we keep America happy. They're our biggest market".

“Yeah but I thought the whole reason we were letting you film here was for the free publicity. How is it free publicity if Luton isn’t the team in the film?”

“Luton will still get mentioned in the interviews and things around the time the film comes out. You’ll still get some publicity. Now come on, James, we haven’t got all day”.

Begrudgingly I got my head down for take two. I won't bother reprinting most of the first bit.

“ - I swear to God, Rob, if we don’t have Messi in a London Lions shirt by then, you can start looking for a new job!”

I slammed the phone down again. Then I carried on typing. About five seconds later, a noise suddenly sounded out from somewhere off camera. Lifting my head up, I peered through the crew in the direction of the archives cupboard.

“Hello? Is anybody in there?”

No response.

Before my character could think about it further, the phone rang again. Feigning irritability, I lifted the receiver to my ear.

“Hello? – Dammit, woman, I thought I told you never to bother me at work! – No I won’t be home on time! I’ve got things to do! – Molly, just shut up will you? – Look, I’ll be home when I’m home - I said I'll be home when I'm home! - Oh, and make sure my f__king tea’s in the microwave for when I do. Okay?!”

A mere second after I’d slammed the phone down again, another bumping noise sounded out from the same direction as the first.

“Right!” I said, getting up from my desk. “I swear to God, whoever’s hiding in there is gonna get their ass seriously fired! I’m really not in the mood for this s__t”.

The camera crew then parted like The Red Sea, allowing me to walk towards the back of the room where the doorway to the archives cupboard is.

Sadly, Toby Stringfellow had approximately ten seconds left to live.

ScottleeSV · November 19, 2011

08/10/10 - Player boss

“James, despite the good start, the fans continue to be concerned with the lack of depth up front. Any plans to resolve this issue?”

“Well funnily enough, I’ve got a new striker to unveil today actually”.

Cue lots of raised eyebrows and sharp intakes of breath.

“Well?” said Andy, glancing towards the door and then back at me. “Is he going to be joining us at any point?”

“Actually he’s already here. It’s me”.

Another brief pause ensued. Then the whole room (bar Brian) began to laugh its head off.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly. Now look; I know I’m not exactly the future of the international team. However, I am a very experienced campaigner. I’ve played for Morecambe, Halifax, not to mention a whole load of – “

“Those were non-league sides!” Bill Tulip protested.

“Come off it, James” said Brad Scowcroft. "What's going on?!"

After glancing at Brian for support that never arrived, I held my hands up to try and restore order. Eventually I was allowed to speak again.

“It’s only a short term solution” I explained. “I’m probably not even going to be starting! With Cadders long term injured though and Dodds not doing the business, I’ve got to bring someone else in. Seeing as there’s no money available, that someone will have to be me. At least for now anyway. Hopefully, come January, I’ll find someone else to come in and plug the – “

“James” interrupted Andy, taking it upon himself to rise up out of his seat. “Even if there is no money, surely a club of Luton’s size should be able to find a willing loan player to come in? Seems to me this is a prime example of why hiring such a young manager was a mistake. A more experienced manager in this situation would surely have a far bigger range of contacts to call upon”.

“That’s not a question” I pointed out. “Therefore we shall move on to someone else. Yes Victoria?”

“Apart from Bowditch, the entire rest of your strike-force seems very weak this season. Dodds has looked out of his depth, even by your own admission. The loaning of Spencer has long looked like a lazy renewal. And Buckley wasn’t even good enough in the conference. In fact, there’s not even a guarantee Cadamateri would have made the step up if he hadn’t got injured. Do you think, since getting promoted, you’ve taken your eye off the ball in regards to striking options?”

You wouldn’t think we were third in the table, would you?

“No I don’t. These are tough times for signing players, particularly strikers. Besides, in the case of Dodds, his previous records indicated we were getting a good player. And nobody could have predicted what happened to Cadamateri. As for Spencer, he’s just this past week scored a crucial winner so hopefully his luck is on the up”.

The next person to put her hand up was Nadine Gouvell.

“James, many have tried unsuccessfully to balance playing and managing duties. In terms of being able to monitor the more intricate dynamics of a real time football match, don't you think this is going to be much more difficult running around the pitch as opposed to standing on the touchline?”

“No. In times of war, troops on the ground often complain that commanders back at camp have no idea what things are like deep in the heart of the action. By throwing myself deep into the action, I’ll be able to see much more clearly than ever what’s going on. It’ll be like watching a 3D film instead of a normal film”.

Silence around the room as everyone took that one in.

'Christ, I think I've been hanging around Keith too much!'

“Yes, Jonathan?”

“Are the directors of the club onside with your intentions to play?”

“The directors trust in me to make the right decisions on the day to day running of – “

“Oh come on James!” Andy intervened. “Cut the crap will you? No matter how much you throw spin over this, the whole thing smacks of desperation to me. You were never a football league player before your injury and you’re not magically going to turn into one now. Who’s next in line for a game next time you’re short of players? Brian?”

“Well funnily enough, back at school I used to play as goalkee – “

“LOOK!” I interrupted, slamming my fist down on the table. “We’re third in the damn league! Why all the negativity?! As far as I’m concerned, I’ve long earned the right to be trusted on matters of team selection. Now, if I deem it appropriate to pick myself to play, so be it. And that’s the end of the questions for today”.

And with that I supped the last of my water, buttoned up my bottom button, and walked out.

‘F__king journalists. What do they know?’

Ceirdiff · November 20, 2011

More chaos in the press conferences :-D

Love it!

ScottleeSV · November 20, 2011

never seems to get an easy ride does he?

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09/10/10 - An old player returns to play Old ham

It was Oldham Athletic at home today. And I’d decide to play. Well, from the bench.

I arrived at the ground long before anyone else. I wanted to be changed and ready by the time the rest of the squad turned up so to give an impression of enthusiasm and confidence. Humming an old Oasis tune, I finished by putting a tracksuit top over my home shirt and then did some light stretches.

Eventually Brian arrived. By the look on his face when he saw me, he’d clearly expected me to bottle it after yesterday’s press conference.

“You’re really doing it then? You’re really going to play?”

“Yep. From the bench. If I’m needed”.

“Right. Well, good luck with that”.

“Ta”.

Taking my outstretched leg off the bench, I did a little jog on the spot and exhaled.

“Nervous much?” Brian asked.

“Just a little”.

“Well hey. Have a look at this and take your mind off it for a minute. It might give you a much needed laugh”.

Brian sat down and reached into his jacket pocket. Then he pulled out and handed me a CD case which had the unmistakable figure of Prairie Dog Peterson on the front. The picture had him sat on someone’s porch with acoustic guitar in hand. The title of the album was Clip clop rock.

“I took Alice out for a drink last night. Got a babysitter for the kids and everything. Anyway, we fancied somewhere quiet so I took her to The Haunted Cow. Who was there? Prairie. He gave me this. It’s a copy of his new C.D. Well, it was free in exchange for a whiskey shot anyway”.

“I would have said no deal personally”.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to make the guy feel bad. You know how it is”.

Shaking my head, I turned the case over to look at the back.

1 – Hearts and saddles

2 – These cowboy boots won’t pay my gas bill

3 – Michigan Mary

4 – Doodle deedle do da

5 – Moonlight eyes

6 – Aces low

7 – Does your daddy know I feel this way?

8 – Giddyup Gina

9 – Once upon a time in a town called love

10 – Yeehaw Patsy McGrath

11 – You threw a lasso over my heart

12 – Rodeo rock (live at the haunted cow)

“Jesus H Christ” I said, handing it back. “Remind me not to download it”.

As kick-off approached, I was informed by Joe Dunbar that Bowditch was unable to play for some bulls__t reason. It seemed as if fate was conspiring to get me on the pitch from the start, but I didn’t feel comfortable with that. Neither did I feel comfortable persisting with Dodds. So, I handed a golden opportunity to Will Buckley. He would start alongside Spencer and I would be on the bench to come on (possibly) in the second half.

There were other problems elsewhere. Taylor was still out and obviously Buckley couldn’t step in because he was playing up front. I couldn’t use Gnakpa either because he was missing. In the end I had to pick Kearns in the position. At the back meanwhile, Moore continued at centre half after his impressive display against Bournemouth.

I’ll talk about Oldham more when we play them away. They came into this game however on the back of their first win of the season, a 1-0 success at home to Grimsby. Prior to that, they’d taken only two points from seven games. Good time or bad time to play them? You decide.

Chao Yang · November 21, 2011

Debutttt~

Did you put yourself in the game or did you nick name someone?

ScottleeSV · November 21, 2011

That falls in the 'secrets to be revealed after the story's over' category.

09/10/10, League Match 9

Luton Town v Oldham Athletic

GK – Lars Stubhaug (10 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (60 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Michael McKerr (9 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Tony James (67 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Dorian Moore (3 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (80 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (103 apps, 12 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (9 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Daniel Kearns (6 apps 0 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (34 apps, 13 goals)

FC – Will Buckley (46 apps, 2 goals)

The two teams ran out to Rendez-vu by Basement Jaxx. That takes me back. Anyway, we were in orange of course and Oldham in blue. The crowd was decent enough, including a reasonable if not spectacular following from Greater Manchester.

And off we went.

Buoyed by recent results, we started strongly. Kearns thought he’d won a corner in the first minute only for the referee to overrule the linesman. In the 4^th minute we definitely did get one and Moore headed wide. The energy of the players was encouraging, just as it was from the home fans. Good start all around.

Having said that; a slip from McKerr in the 9^th minute gave Oldham a golden opportunity to score. Demontagnac (whose name sounds like a brand of champagne, if you ask me) took the ball forwards and cut into the penalty area near the by-line. Clarke was steaming in down the middle for a potential tap-in but something went slightly wrong with the lay on. Clarke stretched and could only half volley high and wide with the goal gaping. Let-off.

Our overall superiority though began to tell after that. Spencer got his chest on a diagonal cross from Poole to set Buckley up on the edge of the area. It was a chance to try and curl one but Buckley got too much on it and it went high and wide.

Then Poole went one better, dribbling past Black before firing in hard and low. The ball went into the goalkeeper’s arms but squirmed out. Spencer then readjusted his stance quicker than the nearest defender to poke over the line. Goal.

To their credit, Oldham didn’t let their heads down. Almost straight from the kick off, Maher went down the right and crossed for Clarke. It was a difficult chance because he had to volley off his hip to ensure he got a shot away. He kept the shot reasonably low but it went just over.

Then, as the game was starting to get physical, Davies picked up a ball from deep and ran towards our defence. James and Moore backed off and backed off, wondering whether Davies would spread it left or right. Or slip one through the centre for Clarke.

In the end he did neither, blasting one optimistically from thirty yards. It looked like it was going straight down Stubhaug’s throat at first glance, but the ball then appeared to swerve in midair. Stubhaug got a left hand on it but was deceived by the spin and swerve. The shot moved away from him out of his grasp and landed in the bottom right hand corner of the net. Shock equaliser.

I looked for an immediate reply from our guys but the game was becoming stop start (despite the goals). The ref’s whistle seemed to be on auto-play, although strangely he wasn’t giving out any cards. What had looked like an easy afternoon when Spencer had scored was now turning into a dogged battle.

“Come on, Martin” shouted someone in the crowd behind me. “Nothing’s happening. Get yourself on, lad!”

A bit early for that, me thought.

And yet, it was Oldham finishing the half the stronger. Our final attempt on goal - a prod from Nicholls straight into the keeper’s arms - happened in the 31^st minute. After that it was all Oldham. They weren’t creating too many actual chances, but they were making life difficult. I really couldn’t pin down why we were faltering. Unless of course Kearns being on the right was upsetting the natural balance.

‘Probably. We’re not exactly doing much down that side’.

In the final minute of the half, a sloppy pass from James went straight to Westwood. The midfield man immediately slipped a pass through to Maher and he was away, as in clean through on goal. Stubhaug spread himself as wide as he could and the crowd held its breath. Maher then rolled one low and left.

And wide.

Lucky escape! Much work needed in the dressing room at half time.

Ceirdiff · November 21, 2011

The stories not coming to an end is it? :-(

alucasa · November 22, 2011

You certainly have good writing skills bundled with good creativity. Keep it up. And when you are done with the story, I'd like to request a PDF or a DOC version of it to keep it.

ScottleeSV · November 22, 2011

Thanks, Alacusa. I'll try and sort that for you when I'm finished.

..which is some way away off yet, Ceirdiff : )

--------

I didn’t give much of a half time team-talk today. I was too distracted with thoughts of putting myself on.

Anyway, for a while it didn’t look like one was needed. We began the second half as we’d begun the first – on top. First Kearns curled a shot just over from twenty five yards. Then Buckley linked well with Spencer on the edge of the box. Smith actually nicked Buckley’s leg as he was about to shoot here, but rather than go down and take the free kick, Buckley readjusted his legs and shot anyway. Even though the keeper caught it comfortably, the ref deemed it a worthy attempt. Frustrating.

Back came Oldham. It was just one of those games this where you can never truly get on top of the opposition. Well, if we’d had a proper right winger; who knows?

“Remind me never to sign that guy” I told Brian, as Clarke shot over from twelve yards. Wasn't the first time he'd missed today when well placed.

“Will do”.

They weren’t to be denied though. 55 minutes and you could hear a pin drop around Fortress Kenilworth, as Oldham finally got the second goal their supporters would probably argue they deserved.

It originated from a free kick given away by McKerr. Not having a storming game was McKerr. A cross was sent in by Demantagnac, and after a nerve wracking spot of head tennis back and forth across the six yard box, Stephens got ahead of Moore to nod in from no more than a yard away. Oh dear.

Now there really was an air of expectation going around that I would shortly be sending myself on. Buckley wasn’t helping matters by playing poorly.

In the meantime I sent two other subs on. On went Niven for Nicholls (who was on a yellow), and Byrne for Daniels. I made that latter change because we were obviously struggling defensively and Daniels is probably the weaker of the two when it comes to defensive duties. What Daniels offers by compensation is more going forward. Sometimes it pays offs to be more attacking and sometimes it doesn’t. Today it definitely wasn’t.

Barely had the changes been made did Oldham score again. Maher was the man to profit, capitalizing on a couple of lucky ricochets to slot low past Stubhaug from the edge of the area. The guy could hardly believe his luck. Three-one to the visitors. What a turn up.

Cue booing and general discontentment all over the place. The crowd seemed to think that rising to third place and then losing straight afterwards was just plain teasing, and that it wasn’t on.

Now I really was under pressure to get my ass onto the field. I was reluctant however because there was still thirty five minutes to go. Having said that, once I’d watched another ten minutes of humdrum, I had little choice. Taking my tracksuit off, I began to warm up.

Sod’s law, we almost scored a couple of times before I went on. Keane practically pushed everyone out of the way like William Wallace to create an opening in the 67^th minute. Shame he then scooped over the bar. Then Poole raked one low across the area that was half shot half cross. Nobody got a touch on it so Oldham were allocated a goal kick.

Finally, it was time.

“Replacing number ten, Will Buckley, number fourteen, James Martin”.

An ironic cheer sounded out around the ground. It was the type of cheer you hear when a really p!ssed up bloke decides to go up and have a crack at the karaoke.

And yet, I had some beginner’s luck, at least in terms of me being on the pitch when something good happened. I must stress I didn’t actually touch the ball when Spencer side-footed home to give us hope!

It started with Keane setting Poole away down the left. Tired Oldham legs tried to get back but Poole was fitter than all of them. He had room to spare when eventually hitting one left-footed across the box. Steaming in full pelt as I was, I thought for a second I was heading here towards a truly magical moment. I couldn’t quite get there in time though (maybe ten years ago, eh?). The ball ran through to Spencer instead and he almost burst the net from two yards. Get in.

Football fans are fickle. From booing and moaning and cussing, they were now cheering us on with all their might. Oldham’s best football seemed to have already been played. They were sitting back now trying to hold onto what they had. The only question remaining was whether we could break them down.

But nothing else was going our way. I was trying my damnedest to make an impression but it was harder than I thought. Or harder than I remembered anyway. I just couldn’t quite gain the extra step on my marker, or find that inch perfect pass to send someone away. Before I could blink, another ten minutes had passed and we were running out of time.

Oldham’s fitness seemed to be suspect. The closer we got towards the end, the more and more they seemed to be making mistakes and just generally looking sluggish. Myself, Spencer, and Poole all missed half chances within a three minute period prior to the board for injury time going up. Mine was a volley from another cross by Poole. I caught it sweetly but hit it a yard over the bar.

There was only to be two minutes of injury time.

Poole was the man here. We had to get the ball to Poole. Receiving a pass from Keane, Spencer held the ball up and then switched it out to left to the man of the moment. Poole then teased Soley but decided not to push his luck any more than he already had with the whole dribbing thing, instead sliding me in through the channel.

My first touch was slightly loose. In fact, unintentionally, it carried me all the way into the area. Black cut me off but when I dummied to go right only to end up jinking left, Black was fooled and mistimed his lunge. A split second later and my face was down in the dirt and a roar was going up around the ground.

Penalty.

If this had been a Ricky Page-Tansell script I would have dusted myself down and hammered it into the top corner. As it was, I had to consider the ramifications should I have taken the kick and missed it. As such, I quickly ruled myself out of the running. Nicholls was definitely out of the running because he was off the pitch.

The next logical taker then was Spencer. He was on a hat trick so why not? What’s more, he looked keen and confident. He had a look on his face as if he thought the gods were with him today, so who was I to argue when he volunteered? Keane might have been another candidate but he seemed to have shrunk out of sight. Strange.

Spencer put the ball down and then backed up. The crowd held its breath. Score or miss, this would pretty much be the last kick of the game.

Up he ran – a slow jog – a right footed side foot effort – to the right and waist high – keeper guessed correctly – and pushed it away to safety with a firm parry. Grr.

--------

FULL TIME (att - 6778)

Luton Town 2 (Spencer 18, 72, m/p 90+2)

Oldham Athletic 3 (Davies 25, Stephens 53, Maher 55)

--------

(other results)

Barnet 0-1 Yeovil

Chester 1-3 Lincoln

Darlington 2-0 Accrington

Exeter 2-0 Chesterfield

Grays 0-1 Wycombe

Grimsby 2-2 Rotherham

Hereford 1-1 Brentford

Notts County 2-0 Bournemouth

Rochdale 1-0 Walsall

Shrewsbury 4-1 Aldershot

Torquay 2-1 Cheltenham

--------

(table)

1 - Exeter (23)

2 - Rochdale (20)

3 - Notts County (19)

--------

4 - Lincoln (18)

5 - Luton (17)

6 - Rotherham (17)

7 - Darlington (15)

--------

8 - Walsall (14)

Ceirdiff · November 23, 2011

I'm planning a drive-by on that keeper, don't worry :-)

ScottleeSV · November 23, 2011

Don't do anything that's going to cost us another points deduction.

--------

11/10/10 - The bruise.

I was summoned to the palace of Dilic today. You can probably imagine what I thought this was about! But just in case you can’t, here’s a clue; we shoot up to third in the table after a great run, then I pick myself, then we lose.

Here’s the clue one more time; we shoot up to third in the table after a fantastic run, then I pick myself, then we lose.

The trip to see him initially ran a familiar course. First I drove out there (obviously). Then I rolled the car through the gates and up the gravel track. Then, finally, Hedges greeted me and showed me through the front door. I was sort of relieved at this point he didn’t begin to lead me down into the cellar.

Instead we went up to the top floor. Here Hedges indicated towards an open door that had Brute stood outside it. The tall Serbian motioned with his arm for me to enter.

Inside was a bare kind of almost indescribable room really with not much in it. It almost looked like a waiting room only several floors up. In the room’s epicentre was a table. Dilic was lying on this. Apart from the towel around his waist, he was naked. Stood over him was an oriental woman giving him a back massage.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, James” said my host. “Come in, come in”.

There was a couch against one of the walls facing Dilic. I moved to this now and sat on the edge. Brute meanwhile stepped just inside the room and closed the door. Then he joined his hands together above his balls.

“Look” I said. “Before you say anything, let me just point out that it was my run that won the penalty. I also fared quite well in the pass completion statistics. Me and Brian checked them out after the – “

“I didn’t bring you here to talk about ze football. I want to talk about Cassie”.

“Oh. Okay. Go on then”.

“I vill be direct to ze point. Recently she has acquired a new boyfriend. His name is Tony. Zeeing as she is now almost twenty years old, normally I vud not be bothered by zis. Not like I vud of been in zer past anyway. However, ze other night she came back from seeing zis Tony with a bruise on her face. She vill not say anything about how she got ze bruise, but I suspect zis Tony may have been ze one to inflict it. Otherwise, she vud have just told me how she got it, yes?”

I delayed in responding to that. For a few moments the only sound in the room came from Dilic’s masseuse as she karate chopped her hands down onto his back in quick, repetitive movements.

“Have you met the guy?” I asked.

“No, but I know who he is. Him and his family own Fat Tony’s. It’s an Italian restaurant. It’s just next to ze theatre in town”.

I knew the place but I’d never been in it. I’d come close to going in it; me and Chantelle had once driven there but then had an altercation with a parking attendant and ultimately turned the car around. God that seems a long time ago now. That had been during our first relationship.

“So what are you going to about this?”

“Not me. You. I vant you to go visit zis place. Cassie has been sitting in it every evening recently, sometimes with Tony, other times with her friends. She never leaves ze damn place! I vant you to go there and I vant you to see if you can find out if ze bruise came from Tony. If it did, maybe you can talk Cassie into getting rid of him?”

“Talk her into getting rid of him?! I’d have thought that if you found out for sure this guy had hit her, you’d want to send some guys round to do him in”.

“You vant me to start a war vith ze Italians?! No no. You don’t understand. Zis family is not just a bunch of restaurant workers. Ze restaurant is merely – how you say? – a cover, for zer more criminal activities. Certain political niceties must be considered here”.

“Well why me? Why don’t you just get Brute to go around there, or someone else?”

Dilic clapped his hands really loudly and sat up on the table. The masseuse responded by fetching his dressing gown from a hook near the window. Then moving forwards onto his feet, Dilic held his arms out so the masseuse could put the garment on him. She then left the room.

“Because if ze Italians see even a hint of a bald head talking to Cassie, it might stir up unnecessary trouble. No. I need more of an unknown to go around there, someone zat von’t be connected to me so easily, someone I can trust".

“Use Towzer”.

“Towzer? Ha! Towzer is no use to anyone now he doesn't have his lapdog. And also, Cassie has no respect for Towzer. She vud not speak to him about personal matters. Vith you, zis is perhaps different”.

I shook my head and sighed. I also looked at the floor.

“Go tonight” continued my host. “Brute vill give you ze address”.

With that, he turned away from me and moved to a cigar case by the side of the room. I watched him light one and then rose from my seat. When I got to the door, Brute held a piece of paper out for me. I knew where the restaurant was but took the paper anyway.

Then I returned to my car.

ScottleeSV · November 25, 2011

11/10/10 - Predico una rivolta

Thankfully there were no productions taking place at the theatre tonight. I was able to park up next to the restaurant without any bother. There weren’t many other cars around so I wasn’t surprised to see only a thin spread of customers on the inside. It was only seven in the evening, mind. Early days.

None of the customers was Cassie.

Standing in the doorway for a moment like a stranger new to the town saloon, I surveyed the rest of the scene. It wasn’t much different from Pizza Hut really. There were lots of reds and greens; lots of different sized tables; menus on every one. Seriously, seen one pizza-themed restaurant and you’ve seen them all, right?

Acting nonchalantly, I weaved my way through some of the tables and took a booth by the window. I sat facing back towards the door because I wanted to be able able to see Cassie if she came in.

Before that, a smartly dressed guy with a quiff came over.

“How ya doin?” he asked with more than a trace of an Italian accent. “Ready to order?”

“Yeah. I’ll have a coffee, please”.

“And your main?”

“No main. Just a coffee”.

No point eating here; I was having dinner at home later and it was Chantelle’s turn to cook. Besides, if the owner really had raised a hand to Cassie, I didn’t want to put any more money in the establishment’s pocket than I absolutely had to. A coffee would do.

The waiter though, if that’s what he was, didn’t seem impressed.

“Just a coffee, huh? Look, I don’t mean to rain on your parade, buddy, but this joint will be getting pretty busy soon. Usually we ask the non eaters to sit over there by the bar. I mean, if that’s okay by you that is”.

His tone of voice indicated that it was very much expected of me to be okay with it. Had this been any other occasion and I would have been. However, there was a cocky underbelly to this guy’s speech pattern I didn’t much care for.

“Nah I’m alright here thanks. I tell you what though; if it starts to fill up, I’ll move”.

“Now listen, buddy” he responded, putting his notepad down on the table. “Did you see the sign outside that said Fat Tony’s?”

“Err - yeah”.

“Well I’m Tony. And that means I get to call the shots in here. So I tell you what, why don’t you take up that offer of a seat by the bar, and who knows, just maybe your coffee won’t taste a bit funny”.

With customer service like this, it wasn’t hard to believe Fat Tony’s was less about the restaurant side of things than it was the other side of things. Still, at least I’d identified who Tony was a lot quicker than I’d anticipated.

Could I have believed this guy would hit a woman? On first impressions, yes. Although admittedly good looking (in that typically dark haired Italian way), he was also slimy and mouthy. He was also over thirty, unless I was very much mistaken. What was Cassie doing messing around with a thirty plus?

‘Not the first older guy she’s ever fancied though is it, James?’

Very true.

“Okay. You know what, buddy, if you’re not gonna move, I could always just move you myself. You know what I’m saying? Kind of like a security guard".

He rolled up his sleeves as he said this. Funnily enough, I welcomed the idea of him trying to manhandle me. That would mean I’d have license to smash his face against his own cash register, and my job for the night would be done without me even having to see Cassie.

Just then however, another guy appeared from outside. He was slightly older then Tony. He was also going bald. In his hand he held some car keys, perhaps indicating he was some kind of driver for the restaurant. He certainly didn’t look like a customer. Or sound like one.

“Hey, what’s going on, Tony?”

“This wise guy here wants to drink coffee in the meals section”.

“Well hey, if that’s what he wants then let him. The customer’s always right, Tony. You remember that”.

The guy with the keys walked up to us now and faced Tony imposingly. In response, Tony stared back blankly for a second before then producing a wry smile.

“Hey, I was just messing with the guy, you know that. What’s the matter witchoo?”

“What’s the matter with me?! What’s the matter witchoo? I’m not the one picking on the customers when there’s hardly any customers as it is”.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. I suppose I can sort of see that. Okay. Doesn’t mean you haven’t got a big mouth though, Tony”.

‘Woah! Hang on a second. This other guy’s name is also Tony? That kind of throws a spanner in the works’.

“Hey” the original Tony then said to me, twisting side-on and slapping me on the shoulder. “No hard feelings, okay?”

“None at all” I replied.

“Ba-dah bing! Okay then, one coffee coming right up”.

The two Tonys then made to walk off.

“Hey” I called after them. “Just out of curiosity, which one of you two is actually the owner then?”

“Does either of us look fat to you?” original Tony posed.

“No, but before you said – “

“Yeah well I was just messing witchoo. The real fat Tony won’t be around until later".

ScottleeSV · November 26, 2011

11/10/10 - Family

Halfway through my coffee, she arrived. I can’t remember the last time I saw her but it must been several months ago. She’s really come on in that time (in looks, I mean). Like a player on one of those Football Manager games, her stats seem to be shooting up in all the right directions. Lots of green arrows. No red ones.

I’d placed myself so she’d spot me straight away and this she did. Five seconds later and she was sat at my table. Across from me.

“Fancy seeing you here” she said.

“Well it is a small town”.

“Yep”.

There were two ways I could play this. I could pretend the meeting was a coincidence and slowly work my way up to asking about whom she was seeing and what he was like. Or, I could just tell her the truth. There were pros and cons to both but ultimately I ended up just telling the truth. Win or lose, it would be quicker.

At least she took it well. Rather than get offended, she laughed instead.

“I take it this is the bruise he means?” she chuckled, moving some of her long ebony hair away from one side.

“I presume so”.

“Well, as much as it’s nice to see you again, you wasted your trip. I refuse to say anything about how I got the bruise, and I most certainly shall not be dumping my boyfriend over it. And before you ask, the reason why I won’t say how I got the bruise is the principal of the thing. If I say the bruise isn’t worth talking about then people should respect that and not carry on insisting there must be something sinister behind it”.

It had been a very long day so I yawned at this point and leaned back.

The logical response of course was to point out that victims of domestic violence often suffer the hits a while before they come clean about what’s gone on. I didn’t think that to make said response though would change Cassie’s stance (IF she was lying to me). Not tonight anyway.

Maybe if ever a second bruise pops up, I’ll have more cause to interrogate her. Fact is though; anyone can get a damn bruise. I’ve got about four on me at the moment just from playing those ten minutes against Oldham.

“Okay, I’ll take that” I replied. “Just tell me one thing – who actually is your boyfriend? I know he’s called Tony but there are loads of people here called Tony”.

‘I bet it’s original Tony, sadly. The driver guy had no hair; definitely not attractive. Fat Tony doesn’t sound up to much. Must be the original’.

“He’s the manager’s son”.

“Right. So which one of those two is that then?”

Subtly, I nodded in the direction of original Tony and driver Tony. The pair were having some kind of discussion about something behind the bar.

“Neither of them! My Tony is a lot younger than those two!”

“There’s another Tony?!"

“Yeah. Well, my Tony’s actually called Anthony, but people call him Tony. He’s twenty. He only works here a couple of nights a week to help pay for university. He’s not here tonight though. Well, not until later anyway. He’s meeting me at about eight thirty”.

“That’s four Tonys! Are there any people in this place who aren't called Tony?”

“Well, there’s an Angelo, and one Paul. And obviously the women aren’t called Tony. But yeah, now that you mention it, most of the men are either Tony or Anthonys”.

Finishing the last of my coffee, I glanced again at original Tony. This was because out of the corner of my eye I’d noticed he was looking at me suspiciously. I knew what he was thinking; he was wondering what Cassie was doing sat with me. Just when I thought he might come over and start being a smart ass again, a bunch of customers came in and he got distracted.

“Well, I’d better be getting home for my tea. If you hang out in here a lot though, I might pop in and see you from time to time. Hell, maybe next time you can introduce me to all the Tonys I haven’t yet met”.

“That might not be the best idea. Fat Tony doesn’t like outsiders getting friendly with his family unless they’re 100% Italian. It’s like an unspoken family rule. I think it's so the bloodline stays pure. Or something like that”.

“But you’re not even 0% Italian”.

“No but I’m woman. The rule doesn't apply to women”.

I tried to ponder that one as I put my coat on but it made my head hurt.

“Okay. Well, goodbye Cassie”.

“Goodbye, James”.

--------

Next - Cheltenham v Luton (JPT Last 32)

tenthreeleader · November 27, 2011

Continuing to enjoy this excellent long-term read. You're still putting out high-quality product and it's a testament to your ability. Well done.

alucasa · November 27, 2011

I shall wait for the day James actually gets a transfer fund. lol

JoeLatics · November 27, 2011

That falls in the 'secrets to be revealed after the story's over' category.
09/10/10, League Match 9

Luton Town v Oldham Athletic

GK – Lars Stubhaug (10 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (60 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Michael McKerr (9 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Tony James (67 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Dorian Moore (3 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (80 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (103 apps, 12 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (9 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Daniel Kearns (6 apps 0 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (34 apps, 13 goals)

FC – Will Buckley (46 apps, 2 goals)

The two teams ran out to Rendez-vu by Basement Jaxx. That takes me back. Anyway, we were in orange of course and Oldham in blue. The crowd was decent enough, including a reasonable if not spectacular following from Greater Manchester.

And off we went.

Buoyed by recent results, we started strongly. Kearns thought he’d won a corner in the first minute only for the referee to overrule the linesman. In the 4^th minute we definitely did get one and Moore headed wide. The energy of the players was encouraging, just as it was from the home fans. Good start all around.

Having said that; a slip from McKerr in the 9^th minute gave Oldham a golden opportunity to score. Demontagnac (whose name sounds like a brand of champagne, if you ask me) took the ball forwards and cut into the penalty area near the by-line. Clarke was steaming in down the middle for a potential tap-in but something went slightly wrong with the lay on. Clarke stretched and could only half volley high and wide with the goal gaping. Let-off.

Our overall superiority though began to tell after that. Spencer got his chest on a diagonal cross from Poole to set Buckley up on the edge of the area. It was a chance to try and curl one but Buckley got too much on it and it went high and wide.

Then Poole went one better, dribbling past Black before firing in hard and low. The ball went into the goalkeeper’s arms but squirmed out. Spencer then readjusted his stance quicker than the nearest defender to poke over the line. Goal.

To their credit, Oldham didn’t let their heads down. Almost straight from the kick off, Maher went down the right and crossed for Clarke. It was a difficult chance because he had to volley off his hip to ensure he got a shot away. He kept the shot reasonably low but it went just over.

Then, as the game was starting to get physical, Davies picked up a ball from deep and ran towards our defence. James and Moore backed off and backed off, wondering whether Davies would spread it left or right. Or slip one through the centre for Clarke.

In the end he did neither, blasting one optimistically from thirty yards. It looked like it was going straight down Stubhaug’s throat at first glance, but the ball then appeared to swerve in midair. Stubhaug got a left hand on it but was deceived by the spin and swerve. The shot moved away from him out of his grasp and landed in the bottom right hand corner of the net. Shock equaliser.

I looked for an immediate reply from our guys but the game was becoming stop start (despite the goals). The ref’s whistle seemed to be on auto-play, although strangely he wasn’t giving out any cards. What had looked like an easy afternoon when Spencer had scored was now turning into a dogged battle.

“Come on, Martin” shouted someone in the crowd behind me. “Nothing’s happening. Get yourself on, lad!”

A bit early for that, me thought.

And yet, it was Oldham finishing the half the stronger. Our final attempt on goal - a prod from Nicholls straight into the keeper’s arms - happened in the 31^st minute. After that it was all Oldham. They weren’t creating too many actual chances, but they were making life difficult. I really couldn’t pin down why we were faltering. Unless of course Kearns being on the right was upsetting the natural balance.

‘Probably. We’re not exactly doing much down that side’.

In the final minute of the half, a sloppy pass from James went straight to Westwood. The midfield man immediately slipped a pass through to Maher and he was away, as in clean through on goal. Stubhaug spread himself as wide as he could and the crowd held its breath. Maher then rolled one low and left.

And wide.

Lucky escape! Much work needed in the dressing room at half time.

LANCASHIRE! We're in bloody Lancashire!!!

Otherwise, this story is simply amazing. I've only ever been able to get into 2 stories on this board, and this is one of them. Gutted to have finally caught up, waiting for updates is gonna kill me :lol: Amazing stuff, KUTGW!!!

ScottleeSV · November 27, 2011

Thanks, guys. And sorry about the Lancashire thing : )

For those only recent to the story, the following is a link to a story involving some Staring Into The Abyss characters. It takes place around about August 2009 in the timeline, I think. I'm writing another one soon.

http://community.sigames.com/showthread.php/204444-Too-young-the-manager-(short-story)?daysprune=-1

--------

12/10/10, Johnstone's Paint Trophy (Last 32 round)

Cheltenham Town v Luton Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (11 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Richie Byrne (49 apps, 1 goal)

DR – Michael McKerr (10 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Tony James (68 apps, 4 goals)

DC – Dorian Moore (4 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (81 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (104 apps, 12 goals)

ML – Charlie Daniels (61 apps, 5 goals)

MR – Will Buckley (47 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (35 apps, 15 goals)

FC – James Martin (1 app, 0 goals)

Fate had given us yet another away game in a cup competition. This made it three for three for the season. Because it was a midweek, and also because we’ll be going back to Cheltenham before Christmas, I decided not to do any exploring.

As you can see from the team sheet, I decided to give myself a start. Bowditch and Cadamateri are still missing, Buckley was required for duty on the right wing, and Dodds is just someone I’d rather not play ever again, to be frank. I seriously don’t believe the man is capable of scoring. He couldn’t even score in a reserve team match last night. As soon as I can ship him out, I will. Hopefully in January.

In light of how good Poole has been recently, I gave him a rest tonight and moved Daniels up to left wing. This of course enabled Byrne to go at left back.

In total then we had four first teamers out – Gnakpa, Taylor, Poole, and Bowditch. Lots of big game players there. At least it was only the Johnstones Paint if anything went wrong.

And it did go wrong. Big time. What a nasty first half. Our woes began in the 10^th minute. A cross from the left deflected off a crowd of bodies out to the edge of the area. The strangely named Hudson-Odoi hit one and it sailed into the back of the net without Stubhaug even moving. The crowd of bodies had completely blinded him.

The crowd for this match was shocking. Barely 1500 were packed into Whaddon Road to watch it, about 100 of which were from Luton. The clubs in it might be bigger but the competition doesn’t feel that much different from The Live Bunny. Having said that, the absence of Nadine’s film crew and all the bollocks that used to go with it is a bonus.

I was struggling to play as well as I had on Saturday. Maybe Saturday was just beginner’s luck? In any event, Spencer and I were struggling to make any sort of passing combination work. And we didn’t have Taylor or Poole to help us out either. What’s more, Daniels looked out of practice on the left wing.

Cheltenham added their second in the 23^rd minute. It was such a simple goal. Finnegan drifted out to the right and accepted a ball from Brown. Finnegan’s low centre was controlled by Thompson on the edge of the six yard box. James lunged in to try and tackle him but Thompson’s anticipation here was first rate. He dragged the ball out of the oncoming train and then slotted left footed into the bottom corner. Two-nowt.

In talking to various managers over a glass of wine after games, I’ve heard some of them say things like – it’s days like this I wish I could have been still been out there myself. I felt completely helpless on the touchline today. Things like that.

For me it’s the other way around. Whenever things are going wrong, I feel much more helpless if I’m playing than if I’m just managing. If I’m playing, and we’re losing, I’ve usually already given it my all by the time we’re two or three behind. What more could I possibly give? On the other hand, if I’m not playing, I know that those players out there might still turn it around somehow. Probably doesn’t make that much sense but I’m only saying how I feel. It’s a psychological thing.

Our best chance came straight for the second restart. The move didn’t involve me much, which may be a good thing or a bad thing. Not sure.

Daniels it was who teed it up. Too rusty yet to go on weaving Poole-like dribbles, he played one in firm and hard to the edge of the area. My sole contribution was to take one of the markers away. Somewhere away from my diagonal run, Spencer collected, without much pressure, and smashed one over the bar from eighteen yards. Despite the distance he was from the goals, that was a good chance to score.

That was as good as it got. Aside from that, we were restricted to long range efforts that never looked like going in. We didn’t even have a single corner the entire half. We didn’t collect a booking either but that’s not much consolation.

The home side almost made the tie safe on 44 minutes, Vincent forcing Stubhaug to tip over after good work from Thompson. They even had time after that for another chance, Hudson-Odoi scooped over from a tough diagonal. Thankfully, I was glad for the half time whistle.

(And keep this hush-hush, but I was already dead on my feet)

ScottleeSV · November 28, 2011

I didn’t have a fecking clue how to handle the half time team-talk. Everything was set to be we instead of you. I found that hard to get my head around.

“We need to play better out there!” I insisted, instantly feeling like a tit. “I know that also means me, and mark my words; I’ll be doing some soul-searching of my own before we go back out for the second half. Just make sure you lot do yours! Brian, anything to add?”

“Err, well, I thought you had a really good first half. Held the forward line together really – “

“Thanks, Brian” I interrupted, before then turning back to the team. “Remember. Soul searching! We don’t need fancy tactics against this lot. We just need soul searching. That’s the keyword tonight – key two words, I mean - soul searching. Them lot in the home dressing room probably think we’re going to crumble second half because it’s the Johnstone’s Paint. Let’s show em’ different!”

The two teams, Cheltenham in red and Luton in orange, ran back out to Katrina and the Waves singing Walking on sunshine. I wonder if they still play that whenever Cheltenham are getting beat?

Unbeknown to my team, I didn’t intend on staying out there long at the start of the second half. As previously indicated, I was shagged. I needed off. I didn’t want to substitute myself after 45 minutes though in case the papers made a big deal of it. I’d developed a horrible image in my head of The Bulletin putting a picture of me on the back page with the headline – Anybody got a respirator?

So I decided to wait until the 55 minute mark. Big difference between 45 and 55 minutes. Nobody bats an eyelid if you go off after 55. It looks perfectly normal.

On in my stead went Kearns. This means Buckley going up front so Kearns could slot on in the right hand side of midfield. At the same time, I arranged for Beavon to go on for James. Officially, this was so that James, our star defender, could get some rest ahead of Saturday’s league game. Unofficially, I didn’t want to be the only guy going off in case it reflected badly on me.

The changes only served to make our formation even more unviable that it had been in the first half. In the 58^th minute, Cheltenham made the game safe. It was a simple goal. Bird drifted into the area from the left and chipped one over Stubhaug into the far corner of the net. It might have been intended as a cross. Not that it matters.

Now there was no reason not to shove my third sub straight on and actually rest somebody deliberately. Nicholls was the best player left so off he went to be replaced by Gill.

Just to annoy me, we played some nice football after going three down. Turns out Kearns and Gill have some chemistry. I’ll have to remember that. Gill turned like Messi in the 64^th minute and slid Kearns in through the smallest of gaps. If he hadn’t delayed on the shot, things might have got interesting. As it was, his hesitation allowed Wiggins to wiggle his way back and block it.

Soon a better chance. Daniels lofted in a ridiculously high cross that eventually landed on Buckley’s head at the back post. I wouldn’t have headed that one for fear of developing brain trauma later in life. Buckley risked it and was rewarded by seeing his header fly into the side netting.

If one of those had gone in; who knows? The final twenty minutes though was largely a complete bore. The home side didn’t help matters by making all three subs one by one by one. Even the Cheltenham fans began drifting off before the end! It was literally like watching Johnstone's Paint dry.

At least those departing fans didn’t miss any further goals. Bird almost doubled his money for the night late on but saw his ferociously swerving effort tipped acrobatically over. At the other end, Spencer prodded home from close range only to have it ruled out for offside. It was just one of those nights.

“Well that’s one of our routes to Wembley blocked off for the year” I said to Brian after the final whistle.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. We could get away with cup runs more last year. This league is harder. It’s not the worst thing to have gone out”.

“I suppose”.

God I felt sore.

--------

FULL TIME (att - 1539)

Cheltenham Town 3 (Hudson-Odoi 10, Thompson 23, Bird 58)

Luton Town 0

--------

ScottleeSV · November 29, 2011

13/10/10 - Give us a U

Not long before lunch today, Darren came back from the toilet with a big grin on his face.

“What’s with you?” Brenda asked.

“Those new cheerleaders are here. I’ve just seen them going out into the tunnel”.

Excellent news. Privately I’d been really looking forward to the cheerleaders turning up. I couldn’t help it! I’m a red blooded male. And besides, looking isn’t cheating is it?

I desperately wanted to go take a sneak peak but thought it best to wait a few minutes. If I went straight away, Brenda, Kindra, and Nicky would all make a jokey fuss about me being a despicable chauvinist (or some rubbish like that). If I waited a while, on the other hand, everyone would soon forget and then I would be able to slip off almost unnoticed.

I gave it ten minutes in total, the exact amount of extra time I’d left myself on last night after half time. Then I slipped out. Just as I’d hoped, nobody paid much mind.

Just as I walked under the This is Kenilworth Road Sign, I saw them in all their glory.

All their primary school glory that is.

The cheerleaders weren't women! They were kids! Kids! Every last one of them! I don’t know their exact age here but they must have been in the nine to twelve age range. Something like that. They weren’t here to practice either, by the looks of it. It looked like they’d just come to have a quick look at the stadium. A middle aged dark haired woman was with them. She was keeping them all closely herded like a flock of geese.

It crossed my mind to march straight to Glynn’s office and complain, but I just didn’t think there would be much point. I could just imagine how the conversation would play out. Something like this..

“Cheerleaders are supposed to fully grown WOMEN, Glynn, with fully formed breasts and legs! How are a bunch of kids meant to pull more punters in?!”

“What can I say? Best I could find. Strange to think it, but there aren’t as many grown up cheerleaders in Luton as you'd think. Anyway, it’s only meant to be a bit of fun. The regulars will find the kids amusing. Oh, and did I mention that they’re doing it free of charge? Every cloud has a silver lining, eh?”

Just as I finished playing this likelihood out in my head, the teacher and her kids began to storm past me down the corridor.

“Orderly fashion!” said the teacher sternly. “Whoever needs the toilet may go now. Then quickly out to the reception area again please”.

The toilets of course were out in the main corridor, so the girls (together with the teacher) all shuffled through the connecting door at the back of the tunnel and disappeared from view.

All except one little girl who for some reason stayed put. She had a bobble hat on and looked a bit dippy to me.

“Are you not going with them?” I asked her.

“No. I don’t need the toilet”.

“Well, you should probably head to the reception area then”.

Ignoring me, the girl began to do some kind of weird hopscotch dance on the same spot, all the time with eyes looking down at her feet.

Barely had she been doing it for more five seconds, though, did she slip on the wet floor. Instinctively I reached out and steadied her with my hands. Just at that moment, the teacher opened the door to the tunnel area again. Feeling awkward, I straightened the girl up so she was standing on both feet and then cleared my throat.

The teacher flashed me a really dirty look. Then she practically threw her arm around the girl before leading her back to the door.

“Come on, Anna” she said. “Do keep up with the others”.

I felt like saying something to explain but didn’t in case it looked a bit dodgy.

‘Oh f__k it. Like I have to explain myself to some wheeze-bag school teacher’.

Feeling agitated, I went back to the communal office.

“God knows why you were grinning, Darren” I said. “Those cheerleaders are all little girls”.

“I know. I think it’s funny in a way”.

“Well I don’t see why”.

“You will when you find out what they’re calling themselves” Kindra indicated.

“Why? What are they called themselves?”

“The Hatterettes” grinned Nicky.

‘Oh for the love of Mary’.

ScottleeSV · December 1, 2011

14/10/10 - House viewing (part 26)

It was the first truly cold night of the autumn, and here I was sat outside in the blooming car. I wasn’t going inside though. I’d retired from house-hunting after Chantelle had rejected her eleventh. That was a week ago. Ever since, whilst she did the scouring, I sat in the car.

Holding my hands out over the heating vents, I glanced to my right to see if I could see either her or the estate agent through the windows. Nothing doing. Obviously she was somewhere deeper inside, probably getting whiny that the base of the bath was made of limestone and not sandstone. It’d definitely be something. Always something. That was why we’d hit number twenty six and still didn’t have a place sorted.

I’d even had to increase the budget! Chantelle had long exhausted all the available houses in the £250,000 to £300,000 range that matched her specifications. We were now into the £300,000 to £350,000 bracket, this latest one being on the market for £335,000.

Still, as long as the living room ends up being on the correct side and the bathroom tiles match, what’s an extra fifty grand, right?

To help pass the time, I had the radio on. Radio Bedfordshire. A trashy rock song was coming to its end.

“Great stuff!” announced presenter Dirk Langley over the fade-out. “That was of course Zombie Orgy and Let’s all eat the liberals. Later on we’ll be hearing their new single, but first we’ve got Zombie Orgy bassist Robot Mathers live in the studio! Robot, welcome!”

“Thanks, dude”.

“First of all, I have to ask why on earth you’re called Robot?”

“Well, it’s kind of a nickname I picked up on our tour of Suffolk a couple of years back. Some of the guys were telling me my drumming was so good I was like a robot. So, instead of Robert, they started calling me Robot. I guess it kind of stuck”.

“Right. So tell us about the new album! For those at home who don’t know, you’ve got a new album out. It’s called err Crunch and munch. And it’s err, your third studio album. So what can we expect this time out from Bedfordshire finest export?”

A silence ensued as Robot cleared his throat, clearly trying to think of something interesting to say. He also made a sniffing sound like maybe he’d done a line in the studio bogs before going in.

“Well, we decided to experiment a bit with this one. We decided we didn’t just want to do the same old same old, so with this one we’ve taken a kind of – new direction – kind of. I guess you could say we’ve kind of – reinvented ourselves. Kind of. Type of thing. You know”.

“But presumably the aim will still be to try and reach a more wider audience with this one”.

“Yeah we really wanna crack Wales this time. Maybe even Scotland”.

I tuned out (mentally) for a moment to take another look at the house. Still no sign of Chantelle. She’d been in there almost ten minutes now. Only another seven to go and it would be a new record. Previously, she’d never taken more than sixteen minutes to dismiss a property.

"And err, I hear you were headlining somewhere very local recently".

“Oh yeah – that – that was fun – let me tell you. We absolutely loved doing the goth festival”.

He had more to say there but was cut off by the sound of a chicken going cockle-doodle-dooo!

“Goth festival!” Langley shouted straight after.

“What?”

“Oh. Let me explain. Every week when we have a live guest in the studio, we set up a secret list beforehand of ten words, or phrases, we think will come out over the course of the interview. Then we assign each of the words to a different listener. If their word gets said, we call them up and give them a mystery prize!”

“Oh – ok – cool, dude. Cool”.

Just as Dirk then got Paul from Luton on the phone, I noticed Chantelle come out the front door. Time to go home.

‘Hang on a second, she’s smiling! Surely that doesn’t mean – ‘.

With purpose I exited the car and jogged up the huge garden path. If anything, Chantelle’s smile became even wider once she saw me coming. The estate agent followed her out of the door at that moment and he was also smiling.

“You have GOT to see this place!” Chantelle announced, putting her hands on my shoulders. “It’s perfect”.

“You mean you like this one? You mean you actually actually like it?”

“Yep. It’s perfect. Come on, I’ll show you”.

“No no!” I said, refusing to let myself be pulled towards the door. “I’m not risking you spotting something bad on your second look around. I’ll take your word for it that it’s good”.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Come on, let’s go”.

I whisked her off her feet and spun her round so she was facing the car. She giggled at this and so did the estate agent.

“You won’t regret this, guys” he said. “I think you’ve made a great choice”.

“Thanks” I replied. "So do I".

‘Thank f__k this is finally over’.

ScottleeSV · December 2, 2011

15/10/10 - Tierney's tears

Taking a break from work, I stood at the window of my private office and looked out at the stadium. The Death Count crew were all out there, Kindra included. I didn’t know what scene they were setting up but I wondered if it was something to do with the finale. I’ve a heard a rumour, you see, that the gorilla killer eventually gets killed on the pitch.

Anyway, a knock on the door distracted me. It was Brenda’s knock. No doubt about that. Four small raps with exactly the same gaps in-between. Brenda all over.

“Come in!”

“Detective Inspector Maynard to see you” she said, popping her head around the door.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks”.

Out from behind Brenda he then appeared, like a jack in the box, and my secretary subsequently vanished in his wake. Both giving each other fake smiles, I shook Maynard’s hand and beckoned him to the seat in front of my desk. Then I did up the bottom button of my jacket before retaking my own seat.

“So what can I do you for today?”

“Well, it’s kind of on awkward business I come here today, I’m afraid. Are you familiar with a young lady by the name of Beatrice Gray?”

“Never heard of her”.

“What if I told you she’s the schoolteacher leading the new cheerleading group based here at the football stadium?”

“Oh. Her. I think I might know who she is. We’ve never actually been introduced though”.

A knot tightened in my stomach. I had a horrible feeling I knew roughly what was coming, even if I knew it to be bullsh_t.

“Well she claims she saw you act inappropriately with one of her pupils, an Anna Tierney?"

“Inappropriately how?”

“Well, James, I’ll be blunt. She says she saw you attempting to molest her”.

I laughed heartily and shook my head. It was probably the most obviously fake laugh that’s ever protruded from my mouth.

“Load of rubbish” I followed up with, quickly going on to explain what REALLY happened.

“Well, I figured as much” Maynard responded. “But you can see how it would have looked to Mrs Gray. She says you were pressed up against the girl and you had your hand on her breast”.

“Utter bullsh_t! I put my hand on her shoulder, not her breast! To steady her! And I wasn’t pressed up against her! I was just re-straightening her, to stop her from falling down. It all happened really quickly. I was just reacting by instinct! And anyway, why don’t you just ask the girl what happened? She’ll tell you nothing dodgy was going on”.

“We already did ask her. Miss Tierney doesn’t seem to have much recollection of what happened. She certainly didn’t mention slipping. All she remembers is practicing one of her dances and then having your hands suddenly appear on her”.

“Well she’s full of it too then. She slipped! Either that or there was a weird part to her dance that involved jerking forwards with her head down”.

Cue a few moments of silence. Maynard tapped his fingers together quietly, his eyes never leaving my face. He seemed to be silently judging me. As for me, I fidgeted and glanced around uncomfortably, occasionally looking at Maynard to see if he was still studying me.

“So what now?” I asked.

“Well, on Miss Gray’s advice, the mother of Miss Tierney wants to press charges. She wants to see you in prison. She also wants you placed on the sex offender’s register”.

“That's nice of her”.

“The good news for you is, it’s highly unlikely this case will see the inside of a courtroom. There’s just not enough evidence. Also, I’ve had a look at your record. There’s nothing on it”.

“Well hallay-friggin-luyah! Let’s wrap this bullsh_t up then and move on”.

“But that doesn’t mean Mrs Tierney can’t make life extremely awkward for you! If she really wants to push this, she could appeal above my head - maybe even get the press involved on her behalf”.

“Well how can I stop that?!”

A few bangs sounded from outside. Distracted, Maynard got up and headed to the window. He briefly studied whatever it was the film crew were up to but didn’t make comment on it, instead turning back towards me and leaning his elbow on the sill.

“You can stop it by giving me something to take back to the station with me, a gesture to show you’re co-operating fully and have nothing to hide. Then maybe I can persuade Mrs Tierney she’s got you pegged all wrong”.

“What kind of gesture?”

“Let me search your computer. Statistically, over 90% of all paedophiles keep inappropriate materials on their hard drive”.

“You mean kiddie porn? You want to search my computer for kiddie porn?”

“Yes”.

“Forget it! I’ve got sensitive company information on this computer! Transfer targets – player notes - wage budget information – the works. For all I know you could be a bent cop wanting to get what I’ve got and sell it to the highest bidder. No. Nobody goes on this computer but me".

“Oh come on, James. You’re running a two bob football club in the fourth division, not Tokichi Robotics”.

"Fine!"

Feeling thoroughly offended, not to mention embarrassed, I got out of my chair and let Maynard sit in it.

"It's locked itself" he then said. "What's the password?"

‘Christ’s sake this is ridiculous'.

"Nikita. N.I.K.I.T.A".

"Got it".

'I need some air’.

Excusing myself, I crossed the room and opened the door. I then got a fright because Katrina was right outside, clearly having been just about to knock.

“Oh! Sorry, James. I vos just going to knock to zee if you vud take a look at my radiator. It’s – “

She paused, spotting Maynard past my shoulder.

“Oh yeah” I said with a smile, slowly sliding the door closed so myself and Katrina would be on the outside. “I just said he could check his emails whilst he was here. So where’s this radiator?”

--------

Next - Luton v Yeovil (League Match)

ScottleeSV · December 4, 2011

16/10/10, League Match 10

Luton Town v Yeovil Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (12 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (62 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Keith Keane (105 apps, 12 goals)

DC - Richie Byrne (50 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Dorian Moore (5 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (82 apps, 22 goals)

MC – Matthew Gill (44 apps, 1 goal)

ML – Glenn Poole (10 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Will Buckley (48 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (36 apps, 15 goals)

FC – James Martin (2 apps, 0 goals)

Orange against green today in what was a crucial game for trying to get back on track. The only problem was we were ravaged by injuries. Today’s absentee list – Bowditch, Taylor, McKerr, Gnakpa, and James. At least four of those would definitely play if fit. Because we had both right backs missing, Keane had to provide temporary cover in that position. Gill meanwhile replaced him in centre mid.

This was our first ever game against Yeovil under my command. Two years ago, when we were getting relegated from League Two, Yeovil were busy getting relegated from League One. They’re currently mid-table.

We began with an early penalty kick. Again it was me who won it, although this time the rash tackle wasn’t proceeded by a glorious weaving run. Instead it was a simple case of Gill playing a short pass into me before Smith sticking the boot in just after I controlled. The incident did however take place in exactly the same spot, more or less, as the one against Oldham.

Up stepped El Skip to ram the ball home for one-nil. Actually he side-footed this one. It went the same side the keeper dived but was too far in the corner to stop. Good penalty.

On the downside, our team was simply too under-strength to go on and dominate from here. Yeovil showed they weren’t giving up just yet by missing through Schofield in the 8^th minute. The striker turned Moore inside and out before firing over from twelve yards.

After 12 minutes, Schofield linked up with Postlethwaite to create another opening. Some neat interplay took place in and outside the area from an angle before Postlewaite tried, presumably, to fire across Stubhaug into the far corner. He sliced his effort though and the ball skimmed low and harmlessly into the advertising hoardings. It was the board for Tesco.

Still they came and eventually they got us. Moore and Byrne really should have been tighter on Tomlin as he controlled with his thigh just inside the area and volleyed blindly. Stubhaug parried but the ball popped out to Daniels - far too quickly for him to control and the ball deflected off the inside of his leg. And two yards left to Postlethwaite. Easy task from here. The guy just smacked it into an unguarded net from six yards.

Disappointing but fair.

Yeovil must be used to playing for draws away from home because they retreated back after the equalizer. Nicholls was allowed to carry it about forty yards in the 26^th minute. It wasn’t as if he was motoring either; he was just ambling along like a playmaker in Serie A on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Anyway, he pulled the trigger eventually and Wagenaar in the away goal didn’t even move. The ball pinged against the stanchion behind the left hand post and almost broke it. Whisker away.

One thing I realised at this point was just how absorbed in the contest I was. In both the previous two games I found myself concentrating just as much on evaluating my own performance as I went along as I did the actual game. Today I just play-played, as Tom Cruise might have said in The Colour of Money, and my performance was stronger as a result. I was also more match-fit of course.

A better chance followed as myself, Spencer, and Poole managed to earn a three on two against the Yeovil defence. Poole was the one in possession here but dallied too long when it came to releasing the final pass. He picked Spencer to pass it to in the end but the striker was offside by this point. Never the less, the linesman was so slow to put his flag up I practically threw my arms up to celebrate a goal before I realised it wasn’t going to count. Good finish that, albeit in vain.

The away side dug in deep late in the half to ensure the scores were level at the break. We got some late crosses in but nothing landed on an orange head. Still, I would have taken this at the halfway stage today.

ScottleeSV · December 5, 2011

I had nothing but words of encouragement at half time. I could hardly criticise too much given the team we had out. Mark my words; I encouraged, I cajoled, I bribed, I even praised them. It just seemed the way to go.

And it worked a treat. I know we also scored early in the first half, but the way we scored early in the second was so much more satisfying, at least from a personal perspective. There was just so much more comradeship involved in the build-up. Players tackled. Players got in where it hurt. Players went up bravely for headers. Players talked with each other. And it culminated in Poole getting to the by-line before cutting one back into a crowded area.

Everyone missed it but the ball went out to Keane. The stand-in right back smacked it as hard as he could and his luck was in. His shot went like a rocket, diagonally across the keeper and into the far corner. Great goal. And of course, if anything was worth the Tardelli, this was. Keane thus ran towards the corner flag shaking his head from side and side and crying like a baby (probably). The ref even booked him for taking too long to get back to the centre circle.

They say you’ve never truly broken serve until you hold your next service game. In football that means going at least five minutes after you’ve scored without conceding. Anyway, we did that on this occasion without even allowing Yeovil a shot. Our tails were firmly up. Yeovil’s tails, by contrast, were dragging against the ground.

Still, a one goal lead is a never a safe one. We had to keep our wits about us. On the hour mark, I freshened up the midfield by bringing Kearns on for Gill.

It was just after this point the visitors finally registered a second half attack. Tomlin did the donkey work before sliding Schofield in twenty five yards out and left of centre. The striker took two touches, looked up, then tried to chip Stubhaug. It wasn’t a bad effort; two feet wide, one foot too high.

It wasn’t the first of many such efforts. Driven forwards by an extremely vocal home support, back we came through Poole down the left. Overlapping was Daniels. Into the middle went a low cross and yours truly was right there to get on the end of it. Well, kind of. There were too many bodies crowded around me for me to connect properly. My first ‘effort’ was like one of those drop ball situations where two players kick it at the same time and the ball hardly moves.

My second effort hit a leg and travelled maybe a foot to the left. Just as I swung to have a third go, Irving cleared desperately for Yeovil. As I then got off my arse and jogged back up the pitch covered in mud, the crowd applauded me for my spirited efforts.

The match’s final third wasn’t an exciting one, at least until very late on. Yeovil just didn’t seem to have the quality to create regular opportunities, and we were in the same boat really. Time ticked on slowly and uneventfully. In the 74^th minute I replaced Byrne with Beavon. That was my second substitution. I didn’t make a third because it would have meant sending an unexperienced kid on. That’s how decimated we were.

We almost made the game safe on 83. A short corner was eventually whipped in by Poole and the ball curled across the fringes of both Spencer and Kearns. One of them should have headed that in.

So, onto that exciting finale I hinted at. Turn away now if you love Luton though.

In the fifth and final of the added on minutes, substitute Alcock controlled with an arm in the centre of the pitch and chipped over the top for another sub, Robinson, to run onto it. To our credit, nobody in orange stopped and held their arm up. Once Robinson had easily lofted over Stubhaug for an undeserved leveller however, those same people went bloody ape! Me included.

Much chaos ensued as the ref defended his decision to let the goal stand. The Yeovil players meanwhile ran to their travelling support and shared a very special moment with them. It was all too much for Keane. He called the ref a cheating c__t and out came the red card. Keane then proceeded to call the ref quite a few other things as myself and Nicholls manhandled him (Keane) off the pitch.

By the time we kicked off again, there was no time to do more than make a single solitary backwards pass. To the sound of deafening boos, the ref blew for time.

Two points thrown away.

--------

FINAL SCORE (att - 6317)

Luton Town 2 (Nicholls 6 pen, Keane 50, s/o 90+6)

Yeovil Town 2 (Postlethwaite 23, Robinson 90+5)

--------

(other results)

Barnet 0-0 Accrington Stanley

Chesterfield 3-3 Cheltenham

Darlington 2-0 Chester

Exeter 2-2 Rotherham

Grays 1-1 Walsall

Grimsby 1-0 Wycombe

Hereford 0-0 Lincoln

Notts County 1-0 Brentford

Rochdale 2-0 Bournemouth

Shrewsbury 1-0 Oldham

Torquay 1-1 Aldershot

--------

(top of table)

1 - Exeter (24)

2 - Rochdale (23)

3 - Notts County (22)

--------

4 - Lincoln (19)

5 - Darlington (18)

6 - Luton (18)

7 - Rotherham (18)

--------

8 - Walsall (15)

ScottleeSV · December 7, 2011

18/10/10 - Sacked

When I arrived at work this morning, Brenda had some rather disturbing news.

“Morning, James. One of the directors – Daniel Travers – told me to tell you he wants to see you in the boardroom the moment you arrive”.

“Did he say what for?”

“No. Sorry”.

“Okay. Don’t tell the other staff about this until I know what it’s about”.

“Sure”.

The reason I made that request was so people didn’t start gossiping and speculating when they should have been working. Lucky really I’d beaten most of them here.

As for what could possibly be required of me in the boardroom today, well, could have been several things. Possibly I was going to be chewed out for picking myself (and not winning). Or it could have been about the Maynard stuff. Probably one of those two. It’s not often the directors just invite me up to chew the fat. Not at this time of year anyway.

When I got up to the second floor and entered, I was dismayed to find only Daniel sat at the boardroom table. Then Erica followed me in carrying a large Starbucks and my dismay doubled.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Take a seat, James” – Erica.

Daniel said nothing, just eyed me with contempt. Switching my eyes between the pair of them, I waited until Erica had taken a seat by the window and then sat directly opposite her. Daniel was at the head of the table, in the middle of us, as it were.

“Let’s cut straight to the chase” he then announced. “We are here today to discuss whether or not we need to ask you to step down as manager”.

“What?!”

“In light of the EXTREMELY disturbing allegations that have reached our ears over the past twenty four hours, we have a big decision to make here”.

“What are you talking abo – “

“I’m talking about the girl!” Daniel snapped. “The cheerleader! Anna Tierney! And we know everything, so don’t even think about pretending you don’t know what we’re talking about!”

I looked at Erica. Strangely, she wasn’t looking back at me revelling in the moment. She was staring down at her A4 notes. What was that I detected in her expression? Nervousness? Awkwardness?

“I didn’t touch up any girl. It’s all bull. A misunderstanding. The policeman who came here the other day believes me too. What’s more, no charges are going to be brought. So you can both back off”.

“Just because you’re not being charged, doesn’t mean you didn’t do it” Daniel responded. “Mud sticks in a town like this. Like I said, we’ve got a decision to make today, for the good of the club, and we’ll make it once we’ve conducted our own private investigation thank you”.

“Fine! Ask anything you want. But it won’t change the fact I didn’t do anything”.

Daniel hesitated in replying again whilst he first consult some notes. He seemed to have momentarily become calmer, as if my reluctant acceptance of the ‘private investigation’ had pacified him.

“What were you doing in the tunnel area that day? There wasn’t a training session scheduled for the time that the alleged incident took place”.

‘I was hoping to get a glimpse of some fine young booty. Young as in over sixteen though’.

“I’d lost my shin pads. I was having a look for them”.

A brief pause as Erica scribbled that down. Daniel waited for her to catch up and then continued.

“You’re engaged aren’t you, James?”

“Yeah. So?”

“To a woman called Chantelle?”

“Yeah. So? So what?”

“And as we understand it, Chantelle has a young son from a previous relationship. An eight year old lad called Luke?”

“The f__k has that got to do with anything?!”

And yet, it’s probable that some sort distant part of my brain had already figured out what this was building to. I say that because I could feel myself getting sweaty. And angry.

Erica meanwhile was also looking uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as me, but still uncomfortable. She was still taking notes but they were being intertwined now with awkward glances at Daniel.

“Just strikes me as an interesting coincidence that Luke is the same age as Anna” the main man opined, a devilish glare on his face.

That wasn’t technically a question though, so I didn’t say anything.

(But I did get just a tiny bit more angry on the inside).

“Did you know that Chantelle had a young son before you began seeing her?”

I stared at him deadpan. Underneath the table, roughly two feet apart, my fingers and thumbs were beginning to twitch. I was losing my cool here.

“How does Luke make you feel – when you’re around him? Describe to me how you feel”.

And that was it. I flipped.

Totally flipped.

First I jumped out of my seat and grabbed him around the throat. Then I pulled him up onto the table and began to drag him along, his head and shoulders knocking all sorts of things out of the way as we went. I think Erica gasped and rose from her chair at this point but I can’t be sure.

Although of average height and build, I discovered he’s not a strong man is Daniel. He didn’t put up much resistance to what was happening to him. Not unless you count the squeaky protests from his mouth.

At the far end of the table, I pulled him onto the floor just in front of the water cooler. Then I put my foot on his chest to keep him steady. After that I picked the water barrel off the cooler (it was a good two thirds full) and began to empty it over Daniel’s head. He gargled and spluttered when the water began to connect with his face but found it difficult to move out from under my foot. Only when I pulled it away once the barrel had been fully emptied did he succeed in getting free.

“You – you – freak!” he shouted, sitting up and wiping his face. “You’re finished, Martin! Finished! Pack your - stuff and - clear out! You’re - fired!”

Ceirdiff · December 7, 2011

Oh, wow. Didn't see that coming, more of just the Inspector finding some stuff that got the club in trouble...

Loving the story, can't wait for what happens next (I hope not the end of the story?)

alucasa · December 8, 2011

Well, find a better club than Luton. Maybe, a league 1 club this time.

STFCDP1990 · December 8, 2011

Wow.

Didn't see that coming.

ScottleeSV · December 8, 2011

18/10/10 - Reprieved

I barely had time to take this in before Erica stepped up next to me and intervened.

“No he is not, Daniel! You brought this on yourself. I told you I wasn’t in favour of this course of action, but you went ahead with it anyway! This club will not be made to suffer because of some childish vendetta! If and when he is to be sacked, it will be done via the proper procedures!”

I don’t know who was more taken back at this, me or Daniel.

“But – he just – assaulted me!”

“I’m not surprised! I would have done the same! Look, I’m not being a witness to this. I didn’t see anything. And even if you can convince the other directors it did happen, mark my words, I WILL intervene and point out what you did to goad him!"

'Jesus. Go girl!'

Looking completely stunned, not to mention dripping wet, Daniel rose to his feet and took a step towards Erica. He looked like he wanted to do to her what I’d just done to him.

“Don’t take another step” I warned.

“James, go and wait in my office” Erica then told me.

First glancing at Daniel one more time, I did as instructed and took my leave. Then I walked up the corridor past Katrina and into Erica’s office. I left the door ajar in my wake. Instinct, I suppose. It meant I could hear Erica and Daniel remonstrating with each other in the distance.

Eventually I heard the sound of heels on the hard carpet approaching. Erica. Without pausing to explain what had happened to Katrina (someone was going to have to at some point – she must have heard all the argy-bargy), she slipped in through the door and closed it behind her. I noticed she had one hand attached to her chin.

“Hey” I said, moving towards her. “Did he – “

“No. You did this. His foot caught it when you pulled him onto the table”.

She moved her hand so I could see. There was a small gash just right of centre on the bottommost part of her face. It must have made her feel uncomfortable to show it off because no sooner had she revealed it, she covered it up again.

“No, let me see” I said, reaching for her hand.

“No. It doesn’t matter”.

I took her hand away anyway. Doing so brought me extremely close to her. As I then further studied the gash, I noticed she was breathing heavily. Was that a delayed reaction to the stress of the boardroom shenanigans? Or something else?

I didn’t have time to properly consider the answer. Before I knew what was happening, our eyes connected close up and then we were kissing. Yep, bizarre isn’t it? It wasn’t the slow, searching type of kissing that two strangers might normally start off with either. From the word go it was heavy, pressing, and wholly in-yer-face. Passionate, you might say. Talk about a turn-up.

In the seconds that followed, Erica’s arms went behind my neck and mine went behind the waistline of her pinstriped suit. Then we did some kind of a weird unplanned two-step to end up over by the wall – Erica up against it and me keeping her held there. And all the while we hadn’t stopped kissing for more than half a second at any one time. I won't lie. This all felt amazing.

My subconscious brain was just beginning to wonder how we could logistically take it further, when a knock on the door sounded.

We reacting by pulling away from each other. But we remained standing in the same spots. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing..

‘Shall we just ignore that?’

But then Erica decided we probably shouldn’t. Touching her hair up and straightening the creases in her suit, she walked past me and up to the desk. Playtime was over.

“Come in” she said, once behind the desk.

In came Katrina.

“Hi. Sorry. I just vanted to ask if everything was okay. While you ver in ze meeting, I heard some bad noise”.

Erica finished listening to this and then switched her glance towards me.

“I’ll leave you to it” I said.

Sighing, I walked out and closed the door behind me. Although initially I’d come from downstairs, I went from here into my private office just across the way from Erica’s. I wanted to sit and ponder in silence what Erica was likely to tell Katrina had happened in the boardroom. It was also worth pondering whether Daniel would take the details of our little skirmish to the other board members. Or had Erica already well and truly talked him out of that?

Just as I sat down at my desk though, something else came to mind.

‘Jesus! Chantelle!’

I’d seriously forgotten about her when I was in Erica’s office! Honestly I had! I hadn’t given it a moment’s thought! It was as if it had still been the summer, before we got back together, and anything was still possible. What the hell had made me forget? Had we just not been back together long enough? Or had things with Erica simply happened too fast for me to process them properly? And what the hell was I going to do now?

“Get on with planning the Walsall game” I answered out loud, turning the computer on.

Total pro I am.

EvilDave · December 8, 2011

I don't comment nearly often enough, but wow. Did not see that one coming, well written indeed. I was about to say that I'm not convinced he's actually gone, that Martin usually has something up his sleeve - not quite what I had in mind though!

alucasa · December 8, 2011

I was hoping him to be sacked though and find another club and, well, change the title of this thread to <insert clubname> : Staring into the Harem.

Patone · December 9, 2011

Amazing. Simply amazing.

ScottleeSV · December 10, 2011

Thanks to everyone for the kind words

--------

19/10/10 - Stakeout

I thought it might be good on the soul today to spend some time away with women.

Hands down the best place I could think to achieve this was Cyril and Lee’s souvenir shop.

I got a mild surprise when I arrived; there was a closed for lunch sign over the door. That was a bit odd. Given the fact there were three of them running the place these days, why on earth close for lunch? Why not operating a rotation system so the lunch hour wouldn’t be lost? Didn’t make sense to me. The door was locked so I couldn’t just walk in either.

Moving to the window, I cupped my hands on the pane and peered inside. No sign of Cyril, but Lee and Albie were in there. They were both leaning on the glass counter tucking into burgers and chips.

“Hey” I called out, rapping on the glass.

Once they’d both turned to look at me, Lee went and unlocked the door. Seconds later and I was out of the cold and lecturing them about the lunch hour thing.

“We don’t need to be that stringent” Lee responded. “Business is doing really well! We’re getting loads more customers than we used to. We’re actually making decent profits for a change instead of just scraping by”.

“Oh. Fair enough then. Where’s Cyril?”

“He’s err – “

Lee broke off, seemingly unsure as to how to answer.

“He’s in the observatory” Albie finished for him, half a quarter pounder sticking out of his gob.

“Albie!” Lee gasped. “I don’t think Cyril would want anyone to know about – “

Again he broke off.

“Know about what, guys?” I enquired. “Come on, out with it. What’s the observatory?”

“It’s – it’s – oh, well, you can just see for yourself if you want. Second floor and then second furthest door from the left”.

I left them to it and headed up the stairs. Once I reached the second floor, I followed the directions given to me and pushed open the correct door.

Inside was what looked like a normal living room. Normal except for one thing. Over by the window was a large telescope facing outside. Cyril was behind it, looking through the hole. He flinched away from it though once I came in.

“A telescope, Cyril?”

“Err – yeah – how did you – never mind”.

“What are you doing?”

“Well I’m err – I mean I’m just – well err - ”.

Fed up of all the hesitations, I crossed the room and took hold of the telescope to see for myself. If it had been pointing upwards when I’d come in, I probably wouldn’t have bothered. If that had been the case I would have just assumed Cyril was bird watching or planet watching, or some other crap, and not even asked. As it was, the telescope was facing downwards, into the street. That aroused my curiosity no end.

When I looked through however, all I could see was a close-up of the cafe across the street. Not very exciting at all.

“What am I supposed to be looking at here?”

"Well - errr - "

"Cyril?"

“The girl behind the counter. With the brown hair”.

“Okay”.

Eventually she came into view. It was a girl of maybe twenty. Five foot six. Slightly chubby but not in an off-putting sense. Probably a student, I judged (although I don’t know why). Average looking on the whole. Nothing special.

“Isn’t she a goddess?” Cyril asked rhetorically, and without even looking I could tell he was smiling a beaming smile.

“Who is she?” I asked, turning away from the telescope.

“Oh – well – she’s - just a girl”

I looked back into the telescope briefly. Then I looked at Cyril again. Then I read between the lines.

“You don’t know her do you? You’ve set up this whole telescope thing up to perv on some girl you’ve never even met! I bet you don’t even know her name”.

A flash of anger went across Cyril’s face and he rose to his feet. Then he began to animatedly pace the room.

“Don’t take the Mickey! You know what? You always take the Mickey out of me for things like Star Wars and stuff, and yet the moment I start talking about something cool, you still take the Mickey! I can’t win”.

He did the inverted commas thing with his fingers on the word 'cool'. I’ve started to hate it when people do that. I know so many people who do it, it’s unbelievable.

“I’m sorry” I replied, and meaning it. “So what’s the deal with this girl?”

“Well, I like her. I really like her. I mean don’t get me wrong; running the business is fun. In fact sometimes it’s all-consuming. But there comes a point in every man’s life where he has to – I don’t know - go in search of new frontiers. And that’s what I’m doing here”.

'Well at least he seems to have forgotten about Nicky'.

“Cool. So are you going to ask her out then?”

“Ask her out?! You mean like on a date?”

Cyril sniggered, as if the prospect of actually speaking to the girl out was the craziest notion he’d ever heard. Then he crouched down next to me in front of the telescope and had another quick peek.

“Don’t be daft” he continued, quickly turning back to face me again. “Well, maybe in the future I’ll ask her out. But first I’m going to study her. I’m going to study her and learn more about her”.

“Jesus, Cyril! She’s not an alien species! Just get chatting to her and ask her out. Go in for a coffee or something”.

“No, I can’t do that. This has to be done properly. Lots of study first. Copious amounts of study. And that’s where this telescope comes in”.

“Well I think you’re being daft. You’re just putting it off”.

Now he positively scowled at me.

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank-you very much! What? You think because you’ve got a good looking fiancé that you’re the be-all and end-all when it comes to knowing about women? Well let me you, you’re not. And let me assure you, Operation Coffee Shop Girl WILL be a success, just as everything else I’ve ever dedicated my life to has been”.

“You’ve set an actual mission name for this?!” I asked (and I really couldn’t help grinning as I did).

“Okay that’s it! Out you go! I can’t concentrate when you’re bugging me! You shouldn’t even be in here. Up here isn’t part of the shop. Only authorised souvenir shop personnel are allowed in the observa – “

“Okay okay! I’m gone!”

Needing no further encouragement, I got up and headed for the door. Cyril meanwhile turned back to the telescope and began to look through it again.

‘Good luck with this, Cyril, I guess'.

Patone · December 11, 2011

The virginity is strong on that one, lol

ScottleeSV · December 11, 2011

21/10/10 - Banished

I was summoned to Erica’s office this afternoon. This took me by surprise, as it had been a full three days since water-cooler-gate and I thought the whole thing had been going to just drift away with nothing further said. Not so.

Bracing myself outside the door, I took a deep breath, knocked, and walked in. As per usual, she was sat behind her desk looking smart and business-like. No smile, but not traces of disdain either.

“We need to have a quick follow-up about the Anna Tierney situation” she said, beckoning me to sit down in front of her.

“Go on”.

“Well, even though no charges are to be brought, we still have to safeguard you from arousing further unnecessary suspicions. The woman who runs the troupe is clearly overly paranoid. We need to keep you away from both her and her girls”.

I raised my eyebrows at that choice of words, and Erica noticed me do it.

“Not because you’re a danger to them, James, but simply because we can’t afford anymore accusations. False or otherwise".

“Well that’s fine. I’ll stay away from the tunnel area when they’re here, I guess. That’s no problem”.

“I’m afraid you’re going to need to do more that. For the next few weeks I don’t even want you in this building”.

“What?!”

“You heard me. The Hatterettes don’t just use the pitch; they use the toilets, the canteen, and probably most of the corridors and stairwells in-between. Therefore, to offset any risk of you running into them, I don’t want you anywhere in the building for a while, at least on non match days. Obviously you’ll still need to come in here when there’s a match on. No getting around that”.

I couldn’t help frowning and looking put out.

“But how I am supposed to get my work done?!”

“You can always do some at home. I trust you have a computer and the internet at home?”

“Yeah but – “

“And anyway, you’ll still have access to a computer here in the grounds. It just won’t be inside the building. I’ve made arrangements to have one set up for you inside that port a cabin Cyril and Lee no longer use. That way you’ll still have access to our servers. I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to set something up remotely”.

“That port a cabin is full of old Star Wars memorabilia!”

“There’s still room enough to fit a computer in there. I looked in there this morning”.

The whole thing was still a right royal pain the arse I didn’t need. However, knowing Erica as I do, I didn’t protest the issue any further past this point. Instead I nodded reluctantly and stood up to leave.

“Wait” she said, gesturing for me to sit again. “Before you run off, I think we should probably just clear the air about that other thing that happened the other day”.

“You mean – the thing happened between me and you?”

“Yes. I trust you haven't told anyone about what happened?”

“No. Of course not”.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Now look, I don’t really want to have a big inquest into how it came about in the first place, so why don’t we just agree to forget it happened and move on?”

“Yeah I can do that, although maybe we should also agree not to wear aftershave and perfume around each other from now on. Just in case”.

I grinned after saying this, but Erica didn’t look amused.

“James, what happened was a mistake. And I can assure you it definitely will not be happening again”.

“That’s fine by me. I’m very happily engaged. But you already know that”.

“We’re in agreement then. Oh, and if you want you can finish out today working here in the building. The cheerleaders don’t have another practice session until tomorrow”.

‘You’re too kind’.

“A few weeks and that’s it!” I emphasised, rising and turning.

“Agreed”.

Wondering if it would be cold in the port a cabin, I opened up the door to the office again and left.

Cyril and Lee survived in there okay though, didn’t they? Or did they have a portable heater set up or something? Maybe I would go check.

salkster2102 · December 11, 2011

I think Erica is keeping wants him away for other reasons...

alucasa · December 11, 2011

I don't like this pedo harassment thing though. It shouldn't have been introduced in the story.

Patone · December 12, 2011

I think Erica is keeping wants him away for other reasons...

Very much what I thought... and Erica must be totally pissed for acting impulsively... given how cold and calculating she normally is.

ScottleeSV · December 12, 2011

Yeah I almost had James voice that theory but decided on a post without aggro. Alacusa, sorry you don't like these latest parts.

--------

23/10/10 - A playoff war in walsall

Worst title I've ever come up with.

Anyway, first things first. Just to be polite, I thought I’d better phone Cyril yesterday to tell him I would temporarily be commandeering his port-a-cabin. It would also give me chance to re-enforce that I hadn’t intended to take the Mickey over that telescope thing etc.

As it turned out he’d apparently not taken any offence. Neither was he bothered about the port-a-cabin (just so long I pledged to look after the place with care, and always remember to lock up).

What I did find out though, inadvertently, was the real reason for his sudden assault on the world of women. Apparently Lee was the man who started it all; a couple of months ago he finally saw the light and decided to do something about his non-existent love life. So, he did two things; first he joined a dating website and second he began to go clubbing. This in turn galvanised Cyril to become more active himself.

But here's the really interesting part..

Lee is gay.

He just doesn’t tell that many people. Personally I never would have guessed he was gay. He hides it well. Anyway, obviously Cyril hasn’t wanted to go to gay clubs with Lee, so that partly explains the crazy telescope antics. Cyril might have jumped on the love bandwagon but he’s still very much doing his own thing.

I’ve no idea what orientation Albie is and I’m not going to ask.

The office staff have predictably not reacted well to the news of my banishment. The level of uproar in fact reminds me of when Margaret Oakenbridge briefed joined the club. Most of the staff blame Erica but privately I can’t quite make my mind up. She did save me the other day after all. It’s hard for me to automatically think the worst of her like the others do.

Today was our trip to Walsall. With us being in 6^th and them 8^th, obviously this was a big game. It was also my first against The Saddlers, either as player or manager. Two years ago when we were in League Two, Walsall were in League One. They finished fourth bottom that year and got relegated, despite a respectable point tally of 51. Last season’s attempt to bounce straight back was a lame one; they came 14^th.

Historically they’ve always more or less been a lower division side. In 108 years of they’ve never once been in the top flight, but have always bounced around between the second and fourth tiers.

The town of Walsall is in the West Midlands – population 174,000. I did have a look around and see some places whilst I was there. First I went to the imaginatively named Walsall museum, a modern looking glass structure that shares its premises with a library. It contains all manner of items from world war gas masks to medieval clothing. It’s one of those really random museums with no real theme.

I also frequented the Walsall arboretum. This is basically a huge public park with close to a hundred acres in it. I only scratched the surface of this place due to time constraints, but I did find a nice lake to sit in front of and have my lunch. A few guys in Walsall F.C shirts walked past me at various points but none of them recognised me. I don’t care. I like it that way.

Team news today was a definite improvement over previous weeks. James and Gnakpa were were still out but McKerr returned. This meant we didn’t have to play Keane at right back. We couldn’t play Keane anyway, truth be told, due to his sending off against Yeovil.

In midfield I gave Kearns a chance to partner Nicholls instead of Gill. Taylor was able to come back in on the right wing so this freed up Buckley to partner Spencer up front. That’s right; I’d decided to drop myself. I have to earn my place as much as the next guy and the bottom line is I just haven’t found the net yet. Bowditch is back from injury now but I only put him on the bench today because I don't want to rush him back.

We jogged out into a stadium that was only a third full to When you’re gone by Avril Lavigne. Don’t ask me how I knew the song. Walsall were in their home red and we in our away white.

Good luck Hatters!

alucasa · December 12, 2011

It's not that I dislike the concept. It's just that the whole incident seems to have blown out of proposition. Basically, I felt that it was done over the top.

ScottleeSV · December 13, 2011

23/10/10, League Match 11

Walsall v Luton Town

GK – Lars Stubhaug (13 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Charlie Daniels (63 apps, 5 goals)

DR – Michael McKerr (11 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Richie Byrne (51 apps, 1 goal)

DC – Dorian Moore (6 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (83 apps, 23 goals)

MC – Daniel Kearns (9 apps, 0 goals)

ML – Glenn Poole (11 apps, 1 goal)

MR – Michael Taylor (48 apps, 3 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (37 apps, 15 goals)

FC – Will Buckley (49 apps, 2 goals)

After taking just one point from two home games in the league, suffice to say we were desperate for a result.

We got off to a bright start. Two minutes in and Taylor immediately showed us why we’ve missed him with a little jink past Westlake on the corner edge of the area. Unfortunately his crossing skills were a little rusty. The attempted reverse chip back across the area drifted high and over the far post for a goal kick.

Being back in the dugout gave me the chance to study the performance of stand-in central midfielder Daniel Kearns. As good as Keith Keane is at this level, his poor disciplinary record makes him a constant liability. If I can find a player as good as Keane but without all the baggage that goes with him, I’d be seriously tempted to finally get rid.

To sum Kearns up in short, he seems to be more skilful than Keane but with much less of a physical presence. They’re both relatively slight of frame, but Keane is more, well, hard! Kearns by contrast tends to let the opposition steamroll through him quite regularly. He’s good on the ball; not so good off it. I can only really trust Kearns so long as Nicholls is alongside him to mop up his errors.

Anyway, it was Kearns who had our first serious attempt in the 13^th minute. He drifted neatly past two men before rifling in a low shot from thirty yards. It didn’t look dangerous to begin with, but goalkeeper Pernecky seemed to take an age to dive. When he did, he could only scramble it around the post.

Further attempts quickly followed as we really took the game to our hosts. 16 minutes and Moore almost scored his first goal for the club. It was a header from a Nicholls corner which fizzed narrowly over the crossbar. 18 minutes and Buckley went close; a whipped shot – again over the bar – after some good footwork by Spencer in the area. I think I would have done better there. I definitely would have made the keeper work.

The goal didn’t come and eventually our hosts came into it.

They even found the back of the net with their first attack. A corner from Zadkovich took several ricochets in the area before eventually Hughes prodded home. Up went the linesman’s flag though to rule the goal out for offside. Given the fact we’d had men on either post (at least to start off with), that was a controversial decision. Several red shirts surrounded the referee to protest. To no avail.

A period of stalemate followed. Zadkovich and Ashraf of Walsall were largely to blame for this. The pair of them possess an unbelievable amount of ball skill but they never seem to do anything with it. Half the time they’re both just dribbling around in circles inadvertently running the clock down.

We had a great effort on 35. It was the closest either side had come to scoring. A free kick from Nicholls over on the right was curled in and Spencer got a flicked headed on it. The ball hit the far post and bounced back into play. Defender Smith then hacked it away. Agonizing.

And then it was Walsall’s turn again. This time Ashraf played a one-two with Hughes to get in the middle of Moore and Byrne, twenty five yards out staring down at the keeper. He didn’t back himself to go all the way without being intercepted so tried a cheeky first time side-foot. He hit it okay but the ball went a foot wide. Not sure if Stubhaug would have saved it. He might have.

Even though we were away from home and still drawing – always a decent feat – I still felt a touch of frustration inside, mainly because of the previous two results. I was also annoyed we’d dominated the early stages only to now drift into a pattern of one attack for us, one attack for you.

Much food for thought at half time.

ScottleeSV · December 17, 2011

I don't usually prefer to go 4 days but I've been bedridden with a very bad case of the noro virus. I'm very happy to make a new update today.

--------

“Do more of what you did near the start of the match!”

But we didn’t. Walsall came out playing well. Ashraf soon had another chance, this one as close in as the penalty spot. The ball got stuck under his feet though and Stubhaug managed to save and hold onto what ended up being a very tame low shot.

The stadium might not have that full but the home fans were making tons of noise. Our mob were subdued by comparison. I knew what the problem was of course; it was nerves. Nothing quietens down fans like a few poor results.

More trouble brewed in the 53^rd minute. Zadkovich slipped a beautiful ball through to Hughes and the player was in on goal. At least he would have been if his first touch hadn’t been poor. Still, Byrne hacked him down from behind just to be sure and the ref had a decision to make. Would Hughes, had he retained his balance, still managed to score (despite the poor touch)? Or would he have drifted too far wide?

“Off, off, off, off!” cried the Walsall fans.

Out came the yellow card. Let-off.

For the first time in a while we then forced some pressure of our own. Poole won a corner off the strangely named Bacchus and a load of Hatters all jogged forwards. Nicholls curled one in and a Walsall player headed behind. From the second one, again a Walsall player headed. From the third one, the goalkeeper caught it. All that effort for not even a shot.

Disappointed we hadn’t managed even one proper attempt in the first fifteen minutes of the second half, I made changes. On the hour mark, on went Niven for Kearns and Bowditch for Buckley.

I wondered whether Buckley had looked poor enough for me to overtake him again in the pecking order for the next game, assuming that Spencer and Bowditch are going to be the first choice again from now on. Then I felt guilty for even thinking about that now when there was a game still going on.

He’s like a little Maradona is Zadkovich. 62 minutes and he almost pulled off a Gascoigne move circa Euro 96. Over Niven’s head he chipped it. Then Moore’s. Then he let the ball drop before belting in a half volley. In truth it was a fantastic stop by Stubhaug. He deflected the ball down into the ground right in front of him and the ball bounced away.

Now it was our turn to go forward. It really was a game of my turn, your turn, at least for prolonged periods. On this occasion Poole made a nifty run down the left before cutting inside. He might have gone for the hammer shot on the angle but instead cut it unselfishly back across. The ball went agonizingly behind Bowditch and too far in front of Spencer. Close though. Making openings without actually shooting seemed to be a recurring theme for us this half.

Unfortunately, when Lady Luck shoves you onto the bad run train it can be hard to get off it. When we played Bournemouth a few weeks ago, we were on a great little run at the time. We then went to Deans Court and sneaked the three points when a draw was probably the least Bournemouth deserved. Today, in a similarly even game, but on the back of a bad run, the scales tipped a different way.

It was the boy Ashraf who got the goal. His mazy run forwards was much better than his shot. The defence backed off and backed off, half of them worried about the runners. When Ashraf ignored them in favour of a pot-shot, Stubhaug undid his good work of earlier by diving too late for a low skidder that wasn’t even hit that far in the corner. It beat the keeper’s dive despite crossing the line a full yard away from the right hand post. One-nil Sadlers.

As The Bescot celebrated, I looked at the clock. 76 minutes gone. Not long left.

Time then for drastic measures. I took my tracksuit off and began my warm-up. Unfortunately, at least two minutes went by whilst I actually did warm up. Then I took Byrne off and shoved myself on. Ten minutes left now. We’d gone 3.4.3. All or nothing.

Well, it would have been nothing extremely quickly if the Walsall strikers could have shot straight. It didn’t take them long to expose our gaps at the back. With practically no recent practice of the 3.4.3, at least with this eleven, we just didn’t gel. How Breckin and Ricketts didn’t wrap the game up before time, I will never know.

As it was, full time was reached with no further damage to the scoreboard (but more critically, with no further points to our league tally either). Having three players up front achieved absolutely nothing. Kind of reminded me of my early days at Kenilworth when I experimented a lot with unorthodox formations only for hardly any of them to be effective.

--------

FULL TIME (att - 3831)

Walsall 1 (Ashraf 76)

Luton Town 0

--------

(other results)

Accrington Stanley 2-0 Notts County

Aldershot 0-1 Grimsby

Bournemouth 1-1 Barnet

Brentford 1-2 Darlington

Cheltenham 1-0 Exeter

Chester 1-1 Hereford

Lincoln 1-3 Chesterfield

Oldham 1-2 Grays

Rotherham 1-1 Torquay

Wycombe 2-2 Shrewsbury

Yeovil 3-1 Rochdale

--------

(top of table)

1 - Exeter (24)

2 - Rochdale (23)

3 - Notts County (22)

--------

5 - Darlington (21)

4 - Lincoln (19)

6 - Rotherham (19)

7 - Luton (18)

--------

8 - Walsall (18)

salkster2102 · December 17, 2011

I don't usually prefer to go 4 days but I've been bedridden with a very bad case of the noro virus. I'm very happy to make a new update today.

Can't be as bad as man flu

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Luton Town : Staring into the Abyss

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