The Life and Times of Michael Strang (Mk II)

[Terk]

"Are we looking for anything specific?" Our newly signed scout Nick Wotton was trying to gauge what I'd need from him.

"I wouldn't mind a new striker. I'm not totally convinced by anyone other than Matty yet. But anyone really. Is there anyone we should be keeping an eye on?"

"Keep an eye on Joe Ledley on Saturday. He's definitely a Premiership player." I had heard good things about Cardiff's young Welshman, though admittedly mainly through the media.

"There's Armand Traoré at Plymouth as well."

"I thought he was an Arsenal lad."

"He is. Loan until January. There's word that they might be willing to sell though. And he's quality."

"All right. You keep an eye on him, watch their next two or three games, see if he's worth the shot. Any strikers?"

"There's a few could be available on loan from the Premiership. Craig Lindfield at Liverpool, Ben Sahar at Chelsea. Bendtner's already joined Charlton."

"I don't really want a loan. I want someone I can bring in permanently, not someone who's going to be here for six months and couldn't give much of a ****."

"I've heard good things about a young Argentinian lad playing in Qatar, Mauro Zárate."

"I can't send you guys outside Europe. It's not really cost effective."

"It's a shame. There's real talk about him and he might just accept any move to Europe rather than be stuck out in Doha. He's in the Argentina under twenties. Maybe Emiliano knows him."

With that Nick left the office, off to make arrangements for his extended visit to Plymouth. Whilst I was happy with the squad that I had, I was well aware that it could be improved in just about every area. And indeed, if we were to push on in the second half of the season and bag even a play-off spot, we'd have to reinforce in January.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Cardiff, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 23rd September 2006

Training on Friday hadn't much been concerned with the tactical elements of the game. Simply lifting the players' spirits after three straight defeats and a draw before that took up enough of our time. We played a lot of five-a-side, had a quick chat about that match and let the lads leave early in the hope that they would be in the right frame of mind for the match on Saturday afternoon.

Once more I felt it prudent to tinker with the line-up as little as possible. Richard Stearman finally made his return from the gash which took him off against Plymouth whilst Levi Porter came back in for Stephen Glass on the left wing. Otherwise the team was the same one who had given Newcastle a run for their money and which was beginning to get a very settled look about it.

The Welsh side's fans brought with them something of a reputation for being trouble-makers, but in all honesty they were quiet as a mouse throughout. That may have had something to do with their players not quite being up to the challenge for much of the afternoon, but no doubt the noise created by near thirty thousand home fans did its bit in drowning them out.

The first half hour of the match was very cagey - some would even go so far as to call it dull. It certainly wasn't the sort of football that you expect to find at this level of the English game, there seemed little fight or desire in either side to test the other to the limit. The closest we came to breaking the deadlock was when Porter took an early shot from twenty-five yards, but under pressure from Riccy Scimeca, the ball sailed a good three feet wide of the far post.

The clear class of their field was, as suggested to me during the week by Nick, young midfielder Joe Ledley. Playing on the left of the four across the middle, Joe seemed to spend most of his time coming inside for the ball and working it onto his left foot before trying to find a teammate. He didn't appear to have much trust in Whittingham inside him, but was more than willing to make up for his teammate's shortcomings and whenever his foot was on the ball we had to be alert in closing off his options.

To say the game burst into life at any point during its ninety minutes would have been misleading, but there certainly was more goalmouth action after the half hour mark had passed. It began when we were awarded a very dubious penalty, adding strength to the claims that I should have kept my mouth shut after the Newcastle match. Mark de Vries took a pass from Biscan on his chest and under the very slightest of nudges in the back from Lloyd Doyley, fell comically to the ground. The referee was fooled, however, and Kenny Pavey stepped up, sending Michael Oakes the wrong way and giving us the lead.

Being honest, I would have expected more of a response from Cardiff. Their manager, Dave Jones, was going crazy on the sidelines, trying to get them to up their tempo and take the game to us, but he couldn't get anything other than a distinct lethargy from his players. On the other hand I was having to calm a few of mine down, they had finally picked themselves up for the game but when Seth Johnson went flying through Trevor Sinclair in a manner that could have easily merited a red card I felt it might be better if they eased off a fraction.

As so often in these situations, however, I felt that we had to get a second sooner or later as at some point it would be inevitable that Cardiff created something akin to a chance. With just a minute left before the forty-five were up in the first half, that second goal came and put my mind at ease, believing the game safe. The goal was a classic example of what I was trying to instill in the players; Kenny Pavey took the ball on the right and beat Cardiff's left back Eckersley as he hugged the touchline. He whipped a cross into the box as he moved forward, and Fryatt edged half a yard in front of his marker, jumping well to meet the ball and direct it inside the far post, leaving Oakes with no chance.

The second half brought a better reaction from the visitors, Ledley was moved in to central midfield with Paul Parry sent on to replace Whittingham and charged with getting at us down their left flank. The combination of the two gave us far more problems than they had managed in the first half, and Stearman was forced to earn every penny of his wages in a busy half, but earn it he did. The young Englishman put in some top class tackles to ensure that, as much endeavour as Cardiff put in, they came away from the match with nothing more than an overriding sense of frustration.

Leicester 2 - 0 Cardiff

(Pavey pen 31, Fryatt 44)

Man of the Match: Matty Fryatt (8)

[Terk]

There was a renewed sense of enthusiasm when the players gathered for training on Monday morning. Bristol City's downing of Wolves at Ashton Gate whilst we were beating Cardiff meant that, for a short while at least, we sat atop the table again. West Brom would have a chance to leapfrog us on Wednesday evening when they played their game in hand against Sheffield Wednesday at The Hawthorns.

There were a few welcome sights during Monday's training session. Hosain Kaebi finally got the all-clear from the medical staff to return to competitive action, he had been training fully with the squad since before the Plymouth match, but doubts had remained over his ability to participate in a full-on game. Finally they were happy with him though, and I already had him penciled in for the bench on Saturday.

Paul Henderson was another to be back with the squad. He had spent the best part of two weeks out with a wrist injury. He had ousted Jimmy Nielsen from the bench role and was cleared to resume it when we visited Hull at the weekend, but we would have to make that trip without Seth Johnson.

The former Leeds and Derby midfielder had been limping slightly towards the end of the Cardiff match, though with all three substitutions made we couldn't take him off and give him the rest that he looked like he needed. It turned out that he had taken some nasty bruising on his thigh and the prevailing opinion was that he would simply need rest, but that it could take up to two weeks before he could risk a knock on it again.

[Terk]

I had only ever seen the Hawthorns from pitch level, the atmosphere during our opening day win had been a bit muted and I was sure the West Brom fans could do better. I took my seat in the impressive, single-tiered East Stand just a few minutes before kick-off of their match against Sheffield Wednesday, hoping that the Yorkshire side could provide us with a nicely timed shock.

Our crushing victory remained the only time West Brom had been beaten. Tony Mowbray's move from Hibs had seen them adopt a style of play that was simply wonderful to watch and told clearly that they'd be the ones most likely to adapt successfully to the Premiership.

The game got off to a slow start, the pitch was a little boggy after a few days of rain in the area, but West Brom were soon into their stride and playing some one-touch stuff which belied the conditions. They had to wait until the stroke of half time to take the lead, and when it arrived it was hardly the most startling of strikes, Zoltan Gera bundling home an effort from six yards, but it counted just as much.

The second half was just as much one way traffic, and if you were being critical you could say that the hosts should really have won by four or five. Neither Kevin Phillips nor Roman Bednar had their shooting boots on though, and it was only a minute before the end that they got the clincher, Robert Koren driving home a low shot from ten yards after being set up superbly by Jon Greening.

The drive back to Leicester was a quiet one, we had lost our lead at the top of the table and on the evidence of what I had seen, West Brom would end up strolling to the title. It perhaps concentrated my mind, I knew from that point that there would only be one automatic promotion spot up for grabs, and we'd have to be at our very best to claim it.

[Terk]

Hull vs. Leicester, The Circle Stadium

Saturday 30th September 2006

For two managers taking their first steps in management, neither Phil Brown nor myself were making a bad fist of it. Whilst we were embroiled in the early battle for supremacy at the top of the table, Hull were making light of those who said they would struggle at the wrong end, they were firmly ensconced in mid-table and if they were going to go any way it was up.

Our league record of two wins, two defeats and a draw in September meant that some of the bookies had Hull as slight favourites, based entirely it seemed on the fact that they had home advantage in the match. In the attacking third of the pitch they had plenty of experience in Jay Jay Okocha, Henrik Pedersen and Dean Windass, but they were sorely lacking any pace and I was reasonably confident we could manage to hold them out.

After forty-five minutes of the most mind-numbing football imaginable, however, I was just about ready to batter my head off the changing room walls and be done with it. We were not playing exciting football, the pace and width with which I wanted the players to play was none existent, instead we just looked scared. It meant we were pretty solid defensively, and Hull had fashioned as few chances as we had, but that was not what I wanted.

The requisite rockets were shoved where they needed to be, the lads told in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't stand for another half of such stunning lack of ambition. Their response was to get the ball as far forward as possible in the shortest possible time and adopted an unsightly long-ball game. Somehow it was this which provided us with our goal though.

Fülöp's booming long clearance was flicked on by De Vries, but with Damien Deleney picking up the ball, the danger looked cleared. Unfortunately for Hull, Deleney's back pass to Richard Lee was under hit and Fryatt nipped in, taking the ball round the Hull 'keeper and sliding his shot home.

That should, I was certain, have been enough to see us on the road to victory. And I should have been proven right. The players began to come out of their shells and play a bit more, though as soon as they did Hull pulled level, Pedersen stealing in behind N'Gotty and firing past Fülöp. Still, we were the better side and deserved to be back in the lead when Fryatt's header pinged back off the cross bar just after the hour mark.

My frustration was growing as time began to run out on us, the consolation being that at least we would pick up a point rather than suffering our fourth defeat in five games. That confidence lasted into injury time. A nasty blow picked up by Hull's Michael Turner meant that five extra minutes would be played, but Hull needed only two of them for Okocha to curl in a free kick right on target. Fülöp could do nothing about it, it was perfect in every aspect of its execution.

That, however, should not have been the end of it, and I had more call to complain about penalty decisions with four of the extra five minutes gone. Levi Porter, skipped away from challenges down the left and when his cross dropped in the penalty area, Fryatt thumped it goal bound. Standing on the line was Chris Eagles, and the midfielder clearly blocked the shot with his arm, though neither the referee nor his assistant saw the offence and Hull were allowed past with their stolen victory.

Hull 2 - 1 Leicester

(Pedersen 57, Okocha 90+2)

(Fryatt 51)

Man of the Match: Jay Jay Okocha (7)

[Terk]

| Pos   | Team           | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 1st   | West Brom      | 11    | 8     | 2     | 1     | 20    | 9     | +11   | 26    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|
[b]| 2nd   | LEICESTER      | 11    | 7     | 1     | 3     | 19    | 10    | +9    | 22    |[/b] 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 3rd   | Wolves         | 11    | 7     | 0     | 4     | 21    | 11    | +10   | 21    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 4th   | Watford        | 11    | 7     | 0     | 4     | 20    | 14    | +6    | 21    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 5th   | Burnley        | 11    | 6     | 2     | 3     | 21    | 19    | +2    | 20    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 6th   | Ipswich        | 10    | 6     | 1     | 3     | 23    | 20    | +3    | 19    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 7th   | Crystal Palace | 11    | 6     | 1     | 4     | 14    | 12    | +2    | 19    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 8th   | Hull           | 11    | 5     | 3     | 3     | 20    | 16    | +4    | 18    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 9th   | Southampton    | 11    | 5     | 3     | 3     | 17    | 16    | +1    | 18    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 10th  | Charlton       | 11    | 5     | 2     | 4     | 16    | 13    | +3    | 17    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 11th  | Sheff Utd      | 10    | 4     | 3     | 3     | 16    | 18    | -2    | 15    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 12th  | Sheff Wed      | 11    | 4     | 3     | 4     | 16    | 18    | -2    | 15    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 13th  | Barnsley       | 11    | 3     | 5     | 3     | 9     | 10    | -1    | 14    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 14th  | Stoke          | 11    | 3     | 4     | 4     | 17    | 16    | +1    | 13    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 15th  | Scunthorpe     | 11    | 4     | 1     | 6     | 14    | 15    | -1    | 13    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 16th  | Blackpool      | 11    | 4     | 1     | 6     | 14    | 20    | -6    | 13    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 17th  | Plymouth       | 11    | 3     | 3     | 5     | 16    | 13    | +3    | 12    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 18th  | Cardiff        | 11    | 2     | 6     | 3     | 11    | 13    | -2    | 12    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 19th  | Bristol City   | 11    | 3     | 3     | 5     | 11    | 14    | -3    | 12    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 20th  | Preston        | 11    | 3     | 2     | 6     | 18    | 18    | 0     | 11    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 21st  | Norwich        | 11    | 2     | 5     | 4     | 10    | 15    | -5    | 11    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  | Coventry       | 11    | 3     | 1     | 7     | 17    | 17    | 0     | 10    | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 23rd  | Colchester     | 11    | 2     | 3     | 6     | 7     | 24    | -17   | 9     | 
| ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  | Q.P.R.         | 11    | 1     | 1     | 9     | 6     | 22    | -16   | 4     | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|

[Terk]

"I guess what we want to know, Michael, is whether you think this is merely a good start to the season or whether you think we can realistically make a bid for promotion." The monthly board meeting had mainly been focused on the better-than-expected start we had made to the Championship campaign. The board could see the sackfuls of money promised by life in the Premiership being dangled tantilisingly in front of them.

"Honestly, I think we have a shot. With the squad as it is, I believe we can reach the play-offs. But if we can bring in one or two during the January window, we could make a push for an automatic spot." I wasn't just saying what I thought they wanted to hear; I truly had begun to believe that the squad at my disposal could bring the top flight back to the Walkers Stadium. "For my money West Brom are going to pull away and win the league pretty easily. They're a class above everyone else. But that second spot is really up for grabs. There's no other outstanding team."

"What would you be asking for in January?" Ah, I should have guess the all-important money question was just around the corner. At least it would give me an idea of whether the board's ambitions matched my own.

"We're two players away from having a really good side for this level. I'd be looking at brining in a striker and a goalkeeper. I'd like to bring in a left back as well, both Clive and Emiliano are only on loan, but that's of less importance until the summer. To get players better than we have though, you could be talking a couple of million on each."

"Well that's not necessarily out of reach. We made good profit again this month, over one point seven million, so the club is financially healthy. We'll talk in more detail nearer the time but we want to give you the tools to do the job." I left the meeting with a spring in my step, fully confident that the money would be there come the New Year to bring in the players that could make my first season in football management a wonderfully successful one.

[Terk]

I don't like Hampden. In general I don't like 'bowl' stadia, I much prefer the stands to be right up against the pitch. Somehow though, despite there being plenty of space between the fans and the pitch, the atmosphere during a Scotland international is still something to behold. The 'Hampden Roar' had perhaps gone missing under Berti Vogts but, with the national side now prospering under Alex McLeish, it was back with a vengeance.

I had a ticket for the south stand for the France match in the Euro 2008 qualifiers. About halfway up the first tier, the view was better than I had expected and the noise was indescribable. I'd had a wee flutter at one of the bookies inside the stadium before I took my seat, Scotland weren't fancied to win but my patriotism got the best of me and I had a tenner on a two-one success for my countrymen.

As soon as the game began it was clear that my faith in McLeish's men was horribly misplaced. France were toying with the home side, giving them a lesson in just how football should be played. I shouldn't have expected anything less from the World Cup finalists, but as a Scotsman it still hurt to watch. Franck Ribéry and Florent Malouda were terrorising us down the wings; Alan Hutton and Gary Naysmith looked like rabbits caught in the headlights.

It was astonishing that it took the French twenty-five minutes to open the scoring, and that when it came it was in such a scrappy fashion. Malouda delivered a corner in from the left and Thierry Henry's header cracked off the foot of the post. Stephen McManus tried to clear but swung a fresh air shot at the ball; Louis Saha stabbed the loose ball goalwards but found Craig Gordon in its path. The Sunderland 'keeper could only push the ball back out into the mêlée and Saha's second attempt found the roof of the net to the collective groan of fifty thousand people.

The second, and it turned out clincher, was much more fitting to the game France had played. Frédéric Piquionne had replaced Henry on the hour and just seven minutes later, picked the ball up thirty yards from goal, touched the ball to the side to give himself a little room and then lashed a shot beyond Gordon. Unlike the first, Craig had no chance of stopping it, he'd barely even left the ground by the time it was ripping into the back of the net and the three points were heading to Paris.

--

"You remember Eileen. You met her at New Year a couple of years ago."

"Vaguely. Why?"

"She's split up with her husband. I thought you two might hit it off."

"Give it up. I'm happy on my own." Sarah's desperation to see me coupled up had intensified since she herself had tied the knot, but I wasn't biting. My moving down to Leicester hadn't deterred her, and when I visited after my trip to Hampden, she seemingly had plenty of prospects.

"I've invited her to dinner tomorrow night."

"You're actually the devil, aren't you?"

--

When I turned up for dinner the following night, the standard bottle of winner proffered to my hosts, I began immediately to think Sarah had hit on a winner. I remembered Eileen as soon as I saw her, she reminded me of a girl I'd dated when I first joined Rangers as a young player. Light brown hair rolled down past her shoulders, an emerald green top drawing attention to her eyes of the same colour.

To make things that much better, she spoke with an intelligence and charm that had me captivated all evening. As I drove south the following morning I could think of nothing other than her and I resolved that I had to meet her again, even if it did mean putting up with Sarah's unbearable smugness.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Coventry, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 14th October 2006

Much of the week after I got back from Edinburgh had been spent agonising over who I would choose to step in for Patrick Kisnorbo. The Aussie had been away on international duty and had come back fully in the throes of food poisoning. There was no chance he'd be available for the match, nor would he be considered for the Wolves game on Tuesday. Insúa and Kenton were the two vying for his place alongside Bruno, and when it came to the crunch the young Argentinian just edged it.

Iain Dowie's Coventry side had not begun the season well. Mired in debt and having to sell their better players whenever a decent bid came along was hardly an environment conducive to success, but I had still been a little surprised that they weren't further up the table. They certainly showed across ninety minutes against us that they had the talent to be so.

The fact that the first chance which fell our way in the match was converted with reasonable ease perhaps suggested why they were doing as poorly as they were though. In just the sixth minute Glass was allowed to get in behind David McNamee and cross in for Mark de Vries to head home, unmarked, from eight yards.

I'd have liken to have seen us keep the pressure on Coventry, not allow them to come after us in search of an equaliser and be ready to pounce, putting the game beyond any doubt when any mistake happened to be made. It's needless to say that wasn't what happened, indeed by the forty-fifth minute I was pryaing that the whistle would go whilst we were still, somehow, in the lead.

The main cause of my worry for what remained of the first half after Mark had put us in front was Dutch winger Ellery Cairo. A bursting fountain of ceaseless energy, Cairo terrorised Clive Clarke, flying past the Irishman at will and giving him cause for many a nightmare. But it was on the occasions when he drifted infield that he caused most damage; neither of his strikers were offering an outlet, forcing him to do the work himself.

He came close to leveling the match on a number of occasions, but none more so than in the thirty-eighth minute. Taking a pass from Stephen Hughes, he skipped between Clarke and Insúa, neither getting a challenge anywhere near the Dutchman. He took a moment to steady himself and size up the angle, a moment that should never have been afforded him, but by the time a challenge was thrown his way, he had crashed the ball off the underside of the crossbar. For a moment he thought he had scored, the ball bouncing down on the line, but a firm shake of the referee's head made sure he knew that protests would be useless.

The half time chat was focused entirely on finding a way of shutting Cairo down. I asked Glass to forgo his attacking responsibilities and simply track the Coventry winger wherever he went. With Clarke doubling up when they entered our defensive third, I was hopeful that we could keep him quiet. With the lead in our pocket, I just wanted to get to full time with it still in tact and get out.

The plan worked beautifully. Cairo barely carved out a single opportunity even for himself in the second forty-five minutes. Stephen shadowed every movement he made and was there to make the tackle every time he got the ball. As time wore on towards the final whistle, Malcolm Christie was thrown on for the tiring De Vries, who had worked a tireless shift to give and give our defence some respite. It proved to be a game-winning change.

With twelve minutes remaining, Clarke had the ball in a situation with little threat about it. Just inside the Coventry half, wide on the left, the Irishman was untroubled by anybody from either side making a hurry to take the ball from him. One player did make a run, Christie moving across the edge of the penalty area and when Elliott Ward dropped back to play him onside, Clarke launched a scything ball forward. Christie took it without breaking stride, turned in on goal and swung a boot viciously at the ball. Andy Marshall got a hand to the shot nad quickly wished he hadn't as it almost ended up in the back of the net with it, but I was more concerned with turning to the fans and showing my relief.

The Coventry players now had the stuffing knocked well out of them, and we could have had five before the referee brought the match to a close. We only picked up a third, however, but it acted as something of a statement from Malcolm that perhaps I should play him more often. Taking Biscan's pass just inside the eighteen yard box, he rode Ward's challenge and slid his shot underneath the diving Marshall to put a glass on the scoreline that Coventry did not deserve to be the wrong side of.

I made sure to pick Cairo out as he trudged off the pitch and shake his hand. He deserved to be playing amongst better players and I told him so, the wry smile he gave back saying he thought exactly the same.

Leicester 3 - 0 Coventry

(De Vries 6, Christie 78, 90+2)

Man of the Match: Malcolm Christie (8)

[Terk]

Wolves vs. Leicester, Molineux

Tuesday 17th October 2006

Having topped the table during September, Wolves had been in bad form over the past three games. A defeat at Ashton Gate was followed by a home loss against Watford, and they had only narrowly avoided dropping points on Saturday at relegation favourites Colchester.

With Kisnorbo still not at a hundred percent, the Aussie was left on the bench with Insúa keeping his place in the starting line-up. Christie's two-goal performance as a sub against Coventry had bought him a starting place alongside Matty Fryatt and Levi Porter came back in on the left for Stephen Glass.

To be perfectly honest, I wasn't confident going into the match, and throughout it I was proven to have every right not to be. During the ninety minutes of play Wolves fashioned themselves no less than fifteen clear chances on goal; from the very first whistle it was merely a case of hanging on as long and hard as we could.

"**** this. Concede the match." After Wolves created their fifth clear opening in the first thirteen minutes of the match, I was deadly serious about letting Mick McCarthy's side walk away with the points. Freddy Eastwood had wasted two of the chances, battering both miles over the crossbar, prompting McCarthy to give him a look like he wanted to march onto the pitch and throttle the Welshman.

Another two chances passed the home side by before we got in on the act. Eastwood was guilty for their worst miss, just before the half hour he broke clear when Michael Kightly played a ball in behind Insúa. After rounding Fülöp, Eastwood seemed to slip striking the ball and his shot bounced wide off the outside of the post.

With seven minutes remaining before the break, Martón larruped a goal kick high upfield. Karl Henry missed his clearing header and Porter was free down the left. He cut in towards goal as the Wolves defence tried to scramble back, but when Levi rolled the ball across the six yard box, only Malcolm Christie was there to tap in for the most unlikely of leads.

"I can't take this anymore. I can't watch." Fülöp had just pushed Keogh's free header onto the bar, only seconds after he had been one-on-one with Mahon and managed to push the ball wide as the midfielder tried to take it round him. I felt I was in danger of a heart attack given the ease with which my defence was being parted, it was simply a matter of time before the inevitable.

"We need to tighten up. You're giving their midfield way too much time on the ball. Eastwood's dropping back, sometimes they don't have anyone up front. Don't get dragged back with him, pick up whoever makes the runs, we're making this too easy for them. Martón can't work miracles forever."

Three minutes into the second half, and if they had paid any attention to me during half time, they certainly weren't showing it on the field. Kightly was allowed to drift in from the right as Eastwood dropped back to pick up the ball and the winger could have easily placed his shot either side of Fülöp but instead tried to chip the Hungarian, sending his effort clearly wide of the post.

In the fifty-fifth minute the troublesome Eastwood was removed from the fray, presenting us with an entirely different problem in the form of battering ram Stephen Elliott. He, however, seemed to posses no better a pair of shooting boots than his Welsh teammate and within ten minutes of being on the field he had wasted two chances at least as good as those Eastwood had spurned.

I barely had any fingernails left by the sixty-eighth minute, somehow we were still in the lead and finally we managed to launch another attack. Our one outlet had been Levi Porter, his quick feet had been too much for Karl Henry to handle. And they were once again when Levi got by him to the byline. Cutting back onto his right foot, Levi nipped past Henry again before floating a ball over to the back post. Arriving at speed and with serious intent was substitute Hosain Kaebi and the Iranian stunned Molineux into silence with a hammering volley back across Matt Murray into the corner of the net.

Hosain's goal battered the creative stuffing out of the hosts and until injury time, Fülöp had nothing more to deal with. In the first of the three extra minutes, he did have to pick the ball out of his net, but there was nothing he could have done to keep it out. Stephen Elliott picked up a loose ball thirty yards from goal and unexpectedly unleashed a searing drive which was past Martón almost before he knew it.

Wolves 1 - 2 Leicester

(Elliott 90+1)

(Christie 38, Kaebi 68)

Man of the Match: Martón Fülöp (10)

Walking back up the tunnel after the whistle, I could hardly believe that we had escaped with three points. Officially the man of the match award had gone to Martón, and it was hard to argue given the Hungarian's heroics, but I felt Levi deserved a look in. The winger had shown just why he was beginning to attract interest, his set up of both goals spoke of a player who could play at a higher level and had been vital in our taking anything from the game.

[Terk]

from Damien77:

Terk: Enjoy reading...KUTGW

[Terk]

Thanks for the support, Damien

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"So he's trying to do the whole redemption thing?"

"We always knew he would at some point."

"Figures he'd call you first." Callum let out a sigh of frustration, it was an argument he'd heard a million times.

"Can we not do this now." He gave Andy an angry look, one that he had perfected and that he knew would cease his moaning. Moved into action by their father's attempts at reconciliation, Callum had looked to warn his brother first.

"Just don't let the ****er wear you down. Don't let him back in." They moved onto the more standard pleasantries, Andy had yet to meet Callum's first child, his life was spent too many miles away to make regular contact a feature.

Andy had moved to America not long after finishing university. He had been in Chicago when the storm surrounding his father gathered but with his young family had moved to California soon afterwards. The climate made a nice change from the years he had spent growing up in Glasgow, it was where his wife had grown up and he had no desire nor intention to return to his native shores for more than a week at a time.

They parted with promises to keep in closer contact and assurances that neither would let their father worm his way back into their lives. They would not let him believe for one second that he could atone for what he had done to their family.

[Terk]

A two-hundred mile round trip for dinner might not have been something most sane people would consider, but when Eileen had called to say she would be in Manchester for a few days, I couldn't turn down the invitation for a Friday night get-together. She had picked the restaurant, a nice little Italian place that she had frequented when she lived in the city and somehow I managed to find it and arrive on time.

The dinner was unspectacular, at least in comparison with the company. As I drove home, with Friday night giving way to Saturday morning and a promise that we would stay in contact, I couldn't escape a large grin making its way across my face. I arrived back home in the small hours, only a short while left for sleep before I would have to be at the ground. It was no matter though, there was no way I would be able to close my eyes and rest that evening.

--

"Jesus, you look awful. You look like you've been up all night."

"Pretty much." The smile had still not left my face by the time I arrived at the ground, at least it let everyone know that it wasn't troubled by my lack of sleep.

"Good for you."

"Thanks. Any news on the Traoré deal?" After our wins over Wolves and Coventry, I had been left a little underwhelmed by Clive Clarke's performances. The left back seemed troubled when he came up against someone with real pace - the sort that both Cairo and Kightly had possessed - and I had asked the chairman to see if Arsenal were willing to part with their young Senegalese player.

"They want a buy back clause. Two point four million."

"How much are they wanting for him in the first place?"

"One point seven."

"I'm not going to let him go for just seven hundred grand profit. I don't know, tell them if they really want him back they can pay four million. If we're just going to give him first team games for them, I want us to get proper reward."

Milan had no problem with my insistence that we not bow to Arsenal's will on Armand's deal, indeed he seemed happy that my thought was of the effect such a deal might have on the club rather than simply my team. I still had to finalise my eleven for the game that afternoon, however, and so I left him to fight the matter out with the Premiership club's hierarchy and went back to my office to discuss selection with Craig.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Blackpool, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 21st October 2006

"Patrick's fit. No problem, he can fit back in."

"Emiliano or Clive at left back?"

"Let's give Clive one last chance. He should be able to keep Taylor-Fletcher in his pocket." The rest of the selection was easy enough. Richard Stearman had picked up a foot injury which would see him miss at least a fortnight, possibly as much as a month, so Alan Maybury came in on the right, and other than Patrick's return we fielded the same side that had mugged Wolves.

Blackpool were a team always likely to be battling the drop back to League One, and their start to the season had suggested no different. They had talent in their squad though, not least in diminutive striker Keigan Parker, and I was as confident that they would avoid relegation as I was that we would put them away in front of thirty thousand of our own fans.

What I couldn't have predicted, however, was just how mental referee Mike Riley was going to go during a three minute spell deep into the second half. By that time we were pretty well in control of the game, we had been from very early on as Biscan excelled in shutting down their midfield whilst Pavey and Porter caused them endless problems down the flanks.

But no matter how much the two wingers tried, it was route one football which saw us take the lead just seven minutes before the break. The crosses coming in from Kenny and Levi were being well policed by Evans and Gorkss in the centre of the Blackpool defence, so it was something of a surprise when a hopeful long ball from Maybury caught them sleeping and let Fryatt clear in behind them. Gorkss tried to recover but Matty shrugged off his challenge and clipped a shot past Rhys Evans to give us what, at that point, was a more than deserved lead.

There seemed little trouble to our lead as we progressed through the second half; Clive had even less trouble that we thought in keeping Gary Taylor-Fletcher quiet and neither Parker nor Burgess could get a sniff of a chance with N'Gotty and Kisnorbo on top form in the centre.

In all honesty, the game was getting a little on the dull side with our lads safe in the knowledge that the points were theirs, but it exploded to life in the seventy-second minute. Cutting in from the left, Levi Porter ghosted past Gorkss but stumbled and fell just as he was about to pull the trigger. Mike Riley deemed that contact had been made and awarded a penalty, despite there being a clear foot of air between the Blackpool defender and Porter. Matty stepped up to take the kick, but Evans guessed right and pushed his effort back out.

Even though justice had been done, I was fuming at having passed up such a great chance to seal the points. And my anger was dialed up even further within sixty seconds. Keigan Parker had latched onto Parkhurst's long clearance, and raced in towards goal, one-on-one with Fülöp. The former St Johnstone striker deemed that hurdling the Hungarian then diving to the ground was the best course of action, and was proven right when again Riley pointed to the spot. Parker brushed himself down and lined up the kick, but Márton got his own back, tipping his shot round the post.

The madness had just about died down when Bruno headed the resultant corner back towards the halfway line and everyone looked to get back on with the game. What was going through Riley's head, however, no one could guess. Evans pumped the ball back towards our penalty area, and as he tried to get a head on it, Ian Black claimed a shove in the back from Seth Johnson. It looked to us like he had merely mis-timed his jump, but evidently not as Riley awarded a third penalty in as many minutes. This time John Hills made his way forward to take the kick, but he couldn't beat Fülöp either, planting his kick straight in the 'keeper's midriff.

Both sides were incensed. We were far from happy at the award of either spot kick whilst Blackpool's fans and bench raged at their side for twice missing from twelve yards. Few players had any composure left and the rest of the match was just foul after foul after foul. From one of them though, out on the left wing, Stephen Glass got his delivery to the back post spot on and Bruno N'Gotty rose above Gorkss to head home and finally, once and for all, ensure that the three points stayed with us.

Leicester 2 - 0 Blackpool

(Fryatt 38, m/pen 72, N'Gotty 87)

(Parker m/pen 73, Hills m/pen 75)

Man of the Match: Alan Maybury (8)

[Terk]

.....

Strang on Blackpool, promotion and Ipswich

leicetery city fc

congratulations on the blackpool win on saturday, the team is in good form at the moment.

thank you. We've won four of the last five league games so yeah, we're playing well at the moment but we can't afford to get carried away. The game on saturday was a little hectic towards the end, but i thought we thoroughly deserved the three points.

it can't be often that there are three penalties awarded in as many minutes.

i can't ever remember it happening before, and to be honest i'm not sure any of them should have been penalties. I didn't think there was any contact in the first two, levi insists he just stumbled and didn't dive and the third was just two players challenging for the ball. At least he didn't send anyone off and in the end it didn't change the result.

when you joined the club in the summer, did you believe you would be so near the top of the table at this stage?

honestly? No. The target for this season was to have a respectable season, earn ourselves a position in mid-table and then make a run at the premiership over the next two seasons. I guess we're having to re-evaluate now, but it's still very early in the season. We should keep in mind that most teams have a bad patch at some point in the season and i'm sure it'll come our way before may.

have any players particularly stood out for you this season?

i don't really like to single out individual players for praise, but i'll make an exception this time. I think levi porter has been outstanding whenever he's been called upon. Our idea was to use him sparingly this season, have him learn from stephen glass, but his performances have, more often than not, demanded a place in the side; his form has been wonderful and i think he's definitely a player who can step up a level from here.

before much longer your thoughts will surely turn to the january transfer window. Can foxes fans expect to see new faces at the walkers stadium in the new year?

we're already working on a few targets, there's one in particular we hope to have signed and sealed so that he can join us as early in january as possible. At this level there is always work you can do to improve your side, but they'll have to be quality players who come in.

i don't suppose you're going to name names?

no.

what are your thoughts on the ipswich match this saturday?

it'll be a tough game. Ipswich have started the season well, they had a fantastic result against colchester on sunday. Jim magilton's got them playing some really nice football, so we'll have to be at our best to beat them. It'll be a big game for them as we're five points clear of them, so if we come away with the three points we'll be opening up something of a gap. I'm confident we can do that though.

any injury worries?

richard stearman's still out, he'll probably be out for a few more weeks. Dj campbell's getting closer and closer to returning to action. Saturday might come a bit quickly for him, but he could be in contention for the crystal palace game on tuesday night.

.....

[Terk]

Done with the interview for the club's website, I made my way to Milan's office. The old man had never been shy with his money at Portsmouth, and it seemed he had no intention of being so at Leicester either.

"We've done the deal with Arsenal. They've removed the buy-back option." At that news, I couldn't help but break into a smile. I had been a little worried at giving Arsenal the option of whisking Armand back down south without us being able to do anything to stop them.

"They want a forty percent sell-on instead. We've agreed to that. The fee is one point eight million. Point eight up front, the rest paid over six months. I've spoken to Armand's agent, they'd like you to go down to Plymouth on Sunday and speak to them after the Q.P.R. match." That was a lot of driving, but with every passing day I was anxious to tie up the deal. Other clubs were beginning to sniff around the left back, alerted by our talks with Arsenal and the sooner we got pen on paper, the happier I would be.

--

I couldn't sleep. I didn't particularly want to. I lay in bed and watched Eileen as her chest rose and fell slowly, the occasional snuffle of a snore escaping her lips. She had come ostensibly to visit friends she had in the area with whom she had gone to university but from the moment I met her at the train station, an afternoon off training that I perhaps shouldn't have taken, we would spend little time apart.

For the next few days I only turned up at the club for as few hours as I could get away with. Imparting my ideas for Saturday's game to the players in short, sharp training sessions and then jumping in the car to get back home. We were acting like kids in school but enjoying every moment of it, when she left on Friday evening it took every ounce of my strength not to follow her back north of the border.

[Terk]

Watching a cup final from the bench was proving to be the most frustrating experience of Michael's still young career. It was the spring of 1991, most of Michael's Rangers career had been spent warming the bench, but against Celtic is was particularly galling.

Knowing he would get a medal for his non-participation felt like even more of a slap in the face, it had been the same at the league championship celebrations the summer before. He felt like an intruder, gate-crashing other people's success. He had always hoped his first experience of Hampden would go much better than this.

The league title had come to Ibrox again, the third consecutive season it had done so, and part of a dominance of the Scottish game that is still well remembered. It was Michael's first cup medal, however, the first of six that he would win during his time at Ibrox. Sitting on the bench though, watching his teammates secure an extra-time win over Celtic, he only hoped he could have more involvement.

[Terk]

Ipswich vs. Leicester, Portman Road

Saturday 28th October 2006

Ipswich had fallen far from the heights they had reached under George Burley. Even further from those that Bobby Robson had led them to. Just five years previously, they had been denied a place in the Champions League by Liverpool's last day win at Charlton, an astounding first season in the top flight after Burley had led them to promotion. Relegation followed in 2002 and the club's finances were put under threat with players still on huge Premiership wages. Jim Magilton had them back on track, and promotion - a play-off place at least - looked a realistic possibility.

Man-for-man, I was convinced we were the better side though. The only exception was in goal, I was still to be convinced by Martón Fülöp despite some good performances, and if Jim had offered me a swap deal there and then, I'd have taken Neil Alexander off his hands in a second.

So, for the life of me, I couldn't fathom how, after twenty minutes we were down a goal and could have been four or five. Any time Ipswich had the ball, any time they attacked with the pace of Peters and Roberts down the wings or the power and trickery of Miller and Legwinski through the middle, we had nothing in response. We backed off challenges, we gave them all the time and space they could need. We didn't close down shooting opportunities and we defended set pieces like a team of blind men.

It was quite astonishing that by that point they had only a one goal lead, it was far more to do with their inept finishing than anything positive on our part. Their one goal came in the eighteenth minute and was a case of some of the slackest marking I have ever seen from Alan Maybury. With Legwinski and Peters working space for themselves on the right, Gary Roberts began a move for the back post. Maybury, on his shoulder when he began to move in, may as well have been having a nap for all the good he did, leaving Roberts free to easily meet the cross Peters had swung in to where he was heading.

The goal hadn't provided anything like the kick in the backside we needed, indeed as time passed on our poor play turned merely into frustration and the inevitable yellow cards began to follow. Ipswich bagged a second before the break, far less than they deserved for their domination, when yet more slack marking left the striker alone just outside the six yard box when Legwinski's corner was delivered. Lee would have had to been spectacularly bad to miss the opportunity, but he wasn't, directing the cross beyond Fülöp's dive.

It was high time for the hairdryer treatment when the half time whistle sounded, and I hoped the players would heed my calls for them to show pride in the shirt, to at least give our traveling fans something to sing about. What I hadn't meant was for Patrick Kisnorbo to crunch his way into every Ipswich player who came near him and manage to earn himself two yellow cards in the first two minutes of the half and disappear down the tunnel for his early bath.

With Emiliano on for Malcolm Christie, we withdrew Biscan and Johnson into very defensive roles, sitting just in front of the back four and abandoned any slight hope of pulling the game back. All our focus now was on not getting beaten by five or six. It worked, not that there was much comfort in its success, as when the referee ended the game Ipswich were still only two goals to the good, but it had certainly been a wake up call that questioned just whether we were good enough.

Ipswich 2 - 0 Leicester

(Roberts 18, Lee 39)

Man of the Match: Sylvain Legwinski (8)

[Terk]

Plymouth's Home Park was a surprisingly neat little ground. The terracing at the front of the main stand had been converted to an all-seater section since last I had visited - when I had last played at the ground the entire place had been terraced but was now nicely enclosed and awash with green plastic seats.

I sat towards the back of the grandstand as they faced Q.P.R. with the Sky cameras in attendance. The game itself passed me by without too much interest, the sides played out a one-one draw whilst my attention was focused on Plymouth's energetic left back, Armand Traoré. Bustling up and down the left side all day, he was for my money the best player on the park. His crosses were delivered accurately, but done without dereliction of his defensive duties; Q.P.R. got no joy down their right flank at any point in the match.

Sitting down that evening with Armand and his agent in the hotel room I had taken for the night, he came across as a confident lad. To be honest he didn't seem overly thrilled at the thought of leaving Arsenal and on more than a few occasions mentioned that he had hoped for a Premiership move if he were to leave the Emirates permanently.

I did my best to sell Leicester to him. Letting him know my vision, that before long he would have the Premiership football he craved, he could be a vital part of ensuring we reached that level. For a player who didn't overly want the move, his wage demands were surprisingly low, only £2,000 per week on a two and a half year deal. I guess the fact that he was being paid comparative peanuts by Arsenal meant that a hundred grand a year would be a big step up in lifestyle.

We parted with him in no doubt that we'd be more than happy to match his demands, I guess he left thinking he should have asked for more. I couldn't tell whether we had our man or not though, he promised to get back to me inside a week, so all I could do was hope.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Crystal Palace, Walkers Stadium

Tuesday 31st October 2006

"Come on, guys. You're throwing your season away. I don't want to hear excuses, you know what's going wrong, we worked on it in training. Sort it out between yourselves, go out there and ****ing put it right." There was no sense in reading the riot act for a second game running. It hadn't worked at Ipswich, I doubted it would now. After my few words I left the players to talk it out between the and headed back out to the pitch with Craig.

The situation we found ourselves in was the same as we had against Ipswich. Half time had arrived with us two goals down, only this time we were in front of our own fans. With Patrick Kisnorbo suspended, Insúa came in to parter N'Gotty and did little better than the Aussie he replaced. Again it was a case of us not closing down our opponents, giving them far too much space and time to find ourselves anything other than well behind.

Palace's strength was their midfield; Freedman, Fletcher, Watson and Ifill were a good quartet and with the space we afforded them they were providing more than enough chances for frontmen Dickov and Morrison. The former took fifteen minutes to bag his side's first goal, controlling the ball from Ifill's cross and firing low past Fülöp.

It should have been two less than sixty seconds later. Ben Watson won the ball after the restart and fired the ball out left to Ifill. Again his cross was good and Dickov controlled it well, but this time the veteran Scot's shot was a foot wide of the post.

Their second did come, though they had to wait until just two minutes of the half remained. Clinton Morrison had been buzzing about without causing us anywhere near the problems that Dickov had. Pay too little attention to him, however, and you will be punished as we found out to our cost. Left alone when Fletcher played a ball into the box, Morrison turned quickly and slammed his shot beyond Martón's reach.

As the players lined up for the second half, our boys had grim looks on their faces; I couldn't tell whether it was determination or resignation. I had my answer within six minutes. There was a renewed energy about the players, they were chasing the ball and managing to hold onto possession for more than two passes.

When Bruno N'Gotty took the ball ten yards inside his own half, there didn't seem much on. The Frenchman looped a ball over the top of the Palace defence, and Matty Fryatt reacted quickest. The former Walsall striker was clear in behind with only Scott Flinders in his way. He pushed the ball around the keeper and slid his shot into the empty net. Suddenly thirty-two thousand people in the stands woke up.

For the next thirty-six minutes we battered Crystal Palace black and blue. Chance after chance came our way but either we found Flinders in obdurate form or we found the stands behind the goal. With three minutes remaining our efforts seemed to have been in vain, but Matty Fryatt was determined that we weren't finished.

Found by Stephen Glass' simple pass thirty-five yards from goal, Fryatt took one look up and saw he had few options. He took a touch to give himself space and then unleashed a screaming thunderbolt of a shot, catching everyone off guard and not least Scott Flinders. The 'keeper barely moved as the ball tore past him and into the net, a roar erupted around the ground and we had salvaged a point. Going into the game I would have been disgusted with a draw, but circumstance ensured that I was nothing short of delighted.

Leicester 2 - 2 Crystal Palace

(Fryatt 51, 87)

(Dickov 15, Morrison 43)

Man of the Match: Matty Fryatt (8)

[Terk]

There was a real buzz around training on Wednesday morning, the players were delighted with their performance in the second half and the staff were just happy that we hadn't lost a second game on the run. There was some bad news, an over-enthusiastic challenge left Matty Fryatt with a nasty gash on his arm which would definitely keep him out of the trip to Sheffield United.

--

"We really cannot express how delighted we are with the team's performance this season, Michael."

"Ipswich and Palace aside, of course." I was quickly finding that humour didn't go down well in the boardroom, but a few of the suits raised a smile.

"We ran a profit of just under a million pounds in October; the profit for the season is up to three and a quarter million."

"Nice to know we're in a healthy position."

"Well it's largely down to your efforts. Getting the team playing good football, getting the ground full every home game. We really want to capitalise on this, we want promotion if at all possible."

"I can't guarantee, but I think we've a good chance."

"Of course, but we're going to do everything we can to help. We're going to up your transfer budget for the January window. We're willing to let you spend six point seven five million on new faces." It was fantastic news, I'd still have just shy of five million to spend if the Traoré deal went through, and when I got back to my office there was a message on my phone with good news about that.

--

"They've agreed? No negotiation?"

"None. The terms we offered them first up. He's on loan at Plymouth until the fourteenth, he join us on the fifteenth. Just make sure you get everything signed with Arsenal." I felt like dancing my way back home, I was that happy to have the deal for Traoré signed and sealed. He was already a Premiership quality player in my opinion, and I was convinced he would help our charge to get there.

[Terk]

from CAFAIan:

I am loving the story Terk, it is certainly giving me the inspiration to get off my backside and start a story of my own. Keep up the great work.

Ps Shame you did not beat the scum (Palace! haha)

[Terk]

Thanks for the very kind words, CAFCIan I look forward to reading your story if indeed you do get off your backside I'm guessing by your username and my rudimentary knowledge of London rivalries that you're a Charlton fan. My apologies if I got that wrong

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

Sheffield United vs. Leicester, Bramall Lane

Saturday 4th November 2006

Of the squads in the Championship, Sheffield United's was one of the best. From those with plenty of Premiership experience such as Lee Hendri and James Beattie to players more than capable of making the jump up, like Matthew Kilgallon and Michael Tonge, they were a team everyone expected to be at the sharp end of the table.

In all honesty, I'd have swapped my squad for their's in a moment despite our relative success over them in the early months of the season. With Matty out, DJ Campbell stepped back into the starting line-up whilst Patrick Kisnorbo reclaimed his place in defence ahead of Insúa. The players were in good spirits and took to the field with my encouragement that a good start was needed ringing fresh in their ears. After the first half performances against Ipswich and Palace, we simply had to get off on the right foot.

On that note, scoring twice in the first ten minutes could be considered a good start. It took us just a hundred and eighty seconds to get in front; the returning DJ Campbell banging in the first goal with a rocketing shot from ten yards. Mark de Vries had been charged with dropping deep and linking the midfield and attack, and the Dutchman did just that, playing a ball into Campbell which let him unleash an Exocet missile of a shot that left Paddy Kenny with no chance.

DJ was having great fun back in the side, he looked happy just to be back on the pitch and his pace was giving Chris Lucketti no end of problems. It was the former Birmingham man's pace and direct running that brought about our second, though perhaps slightly more indirectly than he would have liked.

Sent away down the right, Campbell arched a cross into the box; Derek Geary's clearing header reached only the edge of the penalty area and Kenny Pavey reacted quickest, toe poking the ball into the path of De Vries. The Dutchman had time for only one touch, and with the inside of his right foot he prodded the ball beyond Paddy Kenny and in off the far post.

With a two-nil lead in the bag so early, there was an air about our players that said they expected the rest of the match to come to them just as easily. It was far from that in reality, however, and indeed for eighty minutes the match was a very even affair. The signing of James Beattie in the summer had been something of a coup for the Blades and he had started well with nine goals to his name by the time they kicked off against us. The former Everton and Southampton man seemed determined to up his tally to at least ten, his physical approach to the game winning him a number of chances but some excellent last gasp defending ensured Fülöp was rarely called upon.

United's best chance of the match came three minutes into the second half, when our minds were still clearly back in the nice, warm changing room. With the driving rain making the surface ever slicker, Bruno N'Gotty mis-judged the pace of Igor Biscan's pass. Beattie nipped in behind the Frenchman and played a square ball to Jon Stead, ten yards from goal. Since a burst of goals when he first joined Blackburn, Stead has found the net difficult to find, and as he spooned his shot over the bar whilst under no pressure at all, I was delighted the chance had fallen to him and not his strike partner.

Sheffield United 0 - 2 Leicester

(Campbell 3, De Vries 10)

Man of the Match: Mark de Vries (9)

[Terk]

"A manager in three different countries, the titles Michael Strang won from the dugout eclipsed even those he brought home as a player..."

He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off; he had no interest in watching a programme about his career, if he wanted memories he could simply spend time in the basement with his dust-covered medals.

Looking around the room he couldn't help but feel it was bigger, emptier, lonelier. Eileen hadn't spent much time in the living room since the second stroke had robbed her mobility, but the fact that she was no longer anywhere in the house made the atmosphere feel colder. He eased his old frame off the sofa, a maneuver that took him longer with every passing year and slowly made his way out of the back of the house into the garden.

--

His relationship with Eileen had barely been deserving of that term over its last few years. After the second stroke the doctors had insisted that she needed twenty-four hour care, but Michael was equally stubborn. There was no way he could care for her, but he had hired a home help to come round for hours each day, leaving only when Eileen had been tucked safely away in bed.

The cold, hard reality of her death had still hit him hard, however. It had been inevitable for some time, but the truth of someone with whom he had been so in love being gone was crushing. In the days afterwards he had felt truly alone, as much as he had when the world had found out about his infidelity. At the funeral, his two sons had stood on the sidelines, stony-faced in their determination not to make eye contact with their father.

Even now, two weeks after she had breathed her last, Michael was struggling to come to terms with it. He had watched two women he had loved dearly die, and the fact that he had loved both of them cost him everything else he had in his life. There was nothing he could think to do or say that could take away the pain of what he felt.

[Terk]

"****ing hell, Rich! Take it easy, son." Richard Stearman was taking part in his first full training session since he had picked up his foot injury nearly three weeks beforehand. To be honest, he hadn't looked after his fitness too well whilst he was out and looked to be carrying an excess pound or two, but I was sure a week to ten days of intense training would sort him out.

The problem, however, was that he seemed intent on at least injuring himself if not others before he got back on the field. Flying into challenges against his teammates he had to be pulled aside and told in no uncertain terms to calm himself down before he caused serious harm. It was nice to see the players up for their training rather than going through the motions, but a line had to be drawn at some point.

The rest of Tuesday's session went well, Matty Fryatt playing a part in some non-contact stuff towards the end and putting himself back in contention for the trip to Barnsley at the weekend. DJ Campbell was doing a passable impression of someone far more talented than himself, battering shots into the net from all angles, making everyone wonder just why he hadn't been a success at Birmingham.

[Terk]

"I'd love to bring you in as a coach."

"**** off, I'm a boss man now. I'll take your job off you." The chats with John Robertson were becoming quite common. He was spending his time scouting around games for when he was offered a new job, and was back in Leicester with an intention to travel to our game against Barnsley.

For much of the afternoon we spent time in the pub arguing over just how it was that I, a clearly inferior footballer, managed to amass a medal haul far greater than Robbo's. It was an argument we'd had since I'd made the move to Ibrox, and one that we could never settle as I wasn't going to concede my ground, but I knew full well that it was one of football's injustices.

For most of that Friday evening I was consumed with trying to figure out who would make up my starting eleven at Oakwell. I was tempted by a number of changes to the side that had run from Bramall Lane with three points in their pocket, I argued with myself for hours over the various merits of each and how they would help counteract a strong home side. With my selection eventually finalised around one in the morning, I made my way to bed for the few hours of sleep that could be afforded.

[Terk]

Barnsley vs. Leicester, Oakwell

Saturday 11th November 2006

My long deliberations had led me to the conclusion that we should name an unchanged side. With seven days having separated the two games, there were no fitness worries on any of the players who had taken to the field against the Blades and only Matty Fryatt of those injured had brought himself into contention. My biggest decision was whether to bring Matty straight back in, but given how well Mark and Dudley had played together, Fryatt had to settle for a spot on the bench.

Barnsley were a side more than capable of taking the points off us on their own turf. Their last two home games, against Watford and Preston, had been won comfortably and it was only their away form that meant they were on the outskirts of the play-off positions rather than up with the pacesetters in the league. They didn't have any particularly big name stars, but had been playing well as a team with Heinz Müller a rock for them in goal.

I was hoping for a start in the manner of that we had managed at Bramall Lane, but I was to be disappointed. To be honest I couldn't help but get caught up in the mistakes we were making, even though I'm sure Barnsley fans would have said it was the performance of their team that was forcing our mistakes.

Mistakes they were though, and they were handing Barnsley control of the game. I had never seen so many misplaced passes from Igor Biscan and Seth Johnson, the two seemed harried out of any space by Rohan Ricketts and Grant McCann as soon as they got the ball and far more often than not their attempts to rid themselves of the ball found not their teammates but players in Barnsley shirts.

By the half time whistle it was a minor miracle that we weren't behind. Despite the hosts' domination, they had failed to carve out any real clear-cut chances; the one player saving us was Clive Clarke, who seemed to be on a mission to prove me wrong in signing Traoré. On three separate occasions the Irishman moved across the backline to cover a mistake by one of his defensive partners, and we had only him to thank that Martón had yet to really be called upon.

Some might say that it was my team talk that flipped the game on its head. Certainly in the post-match interviews the media wanted to know what was said at the break, but the truth is there were no tea cups flying and no hair-dryer treatment. I merely asked the players to stop giving the ball away quite so much and actually build some attacks of our own.

The plan was wonderful in its simplicity, holding onto the football tends to help you play the game, and worked its magic inside the first two minutes of the half. Biscan fed Levi Porter on the left and the winger, about whom rumours of a move to a bigger stage had begun, skipped past his marker. He delivered a cross from just short of the eighteen yard box and Mark de Vries was waiting. The Dutchman took one touch to control and then shot towards goal. His effort should have been saved by the normally reliable Müller, but instead was just parried into the roof of the net and we had a lead that we barely deserved.

We were playing with much greater confidence after the goal, we stopped giving the ball to Barnsley's midfield and cut off the supply of ball to their strikers. We could have had a second when Campbell broke clear on fifty minutes, but he fluffed his lines and his shot bounced tamely wide f Müller's goal. Shortly afterwards, Dudley was hauled off and Matty sent on in his place to see if he could wrap the match up.

With thirteen minutes left on the clock, and with the home side looking less threatening as time ticked ever further on, we did finally wrap up the three points. Matty had caused more problems in his time on the field than DJ had, and it was fitting that he be involved in the clincher. Taking a pass from Johnson, he closed in on Müller's goal with their defence floundering. Most expected him to shoot, but he unselfishly squared it to the unmarked De Vries who tapped home into the empty net.

Fryatt's contribution wasn't done there, though as we had a third up our sleeves which again he was involved in. Iain Hume had replaced Kenny Pavey on the right and the Canadian sent Fryatt away down the right. He got to the byline just inside the penalty area and cut the ball back towards the six yard box. De Vries slid in, looking for his hat-trick, but he had Grant McCann for company and it was the Barnsley midfielder who had to take the credit for turning the ball past Müller and into the net.

Barnsley 0 - 3 Leicester

(De Vries 47, 77, McCann (OG) 90+2)

Man of the Match: Clive Clarke (8)

[Terk]

"**** off. Crawl back to your little girlfriend for all I care." Michael's relationship with Eve had burned brightly but had burnt out just as quickly. When she found out that he had started seeing a old school friend behind her back, it was the final nail in the coffin of their time together.

He looked upon it as a blessing that Eve had been the one to jump out on him, he had been dreading the inevitable for some time, ever since he had first got together with Sarah. The two had been close at school in Edinburgh, first meeting when Michael had moved to the same high school as her when his family moved across Edinburgh to Gorgie. There had never been any romantic suggestion between them, but with Sarah finding a job in Glasgow after finishing university, they were inextricably drawn together.

--

"Michael, get warmed up. You're on in five minutes." The instruction from Walter Smith had him jumping out of his seat, desperate to get his first taste of the Hampden turf in a Rangers shirt. The 1992 Scottish Cup final had again seen him consigned to substitute duty; Stuart McCall, Alexei Mikhailichenko and Ian Durrant patrolling the middle of the park against Airdrieonians.

He replaced Durrant late in the game and quickly got stuck into the Airdrieonians side managed by his former boss at Hearts, Alex MacDonald. The game ended in success for Rangers, Mark Hateley and Ally McCoist grabbing the goals which saw them wrap up the double, their fourth consecutive league title having been claimed by nine points over Hearts whilst Celtic languished in third.

Strang had impressed during his time on the field that season, and nowhere more so than in his half hour on the Hampden pitch. It was form that had not gone unnoticed outside Ibrox, and ended with a call-up to the national squad from manager Andy Roxburgh for the nation's first appearance in the European Championships.

He won his first cap from the bench in the draw against Norway in Oslo, just a week before the tournament began and he remained amongst the substitutes for the first game of the championship, against the Netherlands in Gothenburg. He got on the pitch for the final five minutes, the side already trailing to Dennis Bergkamp's winner and he wasn't involved as they went down two-nil to Germany in a game that sealed their exit from the tournament.

His crowning moment of the summer, indeed of his whole international career, came with his first (and last) start in the side. As the Soviet Union had ceased to exist in January of that year, so had the USSR football team, and so the new Confederation of Independent States took its place in the tournament finals. In Norrkoping, in front of fourteen thousand people, Michael starred in a three-nil success, laying on the second goal for Brian McClair and playing over an hour before he was replaced by Pat Nevin.

He returned to Glasgow knowing he had finally made it, he had proved that he belonged on the biggest of stages and was certain that 1993 would be his year.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Southampton, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 18th November 2006

We'd had a pretty quiet week, to be honest. I had my head down and buried in my work as Eileen remained in Edinburgh, unable to sneak another visit down south of the border. Training had gone well with no one even pulling up with a slight knock; it had been the physio room's quietest of the season so far.

The biggest news in the seven days after the Burnley win had been that Richard Stearman proved himself more than fit enough to be considered for selection, and he was duly named in the starting eleven ahead of Irishman Alan Maybury. With Matty Fryatt's second half performance at Turf Moor earning him a place back in the line-up, we made two changes to that winning side for a match against a Southampton team which set themselves up from the start to grind out a point.

George Burley was a man I had a lot of respect for after I'd watched from the stands whilst he (very) temporarily brought respectability to the Romanov regime at Hearts before being unceremoniously booted out of the back door. Many had predicted a title challenge for his side, and with their precarious financial position they could well have done with the money that the Premiership would inevitably bring, but some inconsistent performances had left them lingering just inside the top ten - a run to the play-offs their only hope of promotion.

Burley had clearly sent his side out to take a point back to the south coast, they were rigid in their 4-5-1 and showed little ambition to break forward in numbers. Though Marek Saganowski was technically a striker, the big Pole was being played wide on the right, leaving the oftentimes goalscoringly-challenged Jason Euell up front on his own. They had plenty of experience in their team, but the class of their eleven was clearly left winger Sebastien Leto. The big Argentinian looked good on the ball and like he could easily step up a level, but one man can only do so much for a team.

Southampton's lack of ambition played right into our hands as, despite not wanting to attack, neither did they sit back with ten men in defence all day. That meant our players could find space in behind their defence and not have to worry too much about what would happen if the ball were given away. It meant we played with a freedom which perhaps should have seen us win by more than we did.

We took the lead in just five minutes, it was a sign of things to come that we would find all the space and time we wanted down the wings to deliver cross after cross into the box. Stearman was determined to impress and found De Vries just outside the six yard box with a well placed ball. Mark took one touch to control the ball and stable himself before firing viciously into the roof of the net, leaving Kelvin Davis with no chance whatsoever.

We should have been three of four in front by half time, only some good goalkeeping and poor finishing kept the score as it was. It was a very similar story in the second half, we created as many chances as we could want but failed to convert any and give the scoreboard a proper reflection of the domination we had on proceedings.

Things had been made even easier for us in the fifty-sixth minute when Chris Makin picked up his second yellow card of the day, scything Levi Porter down with a crude challenge from behind.

The second goal we craved, just to make sure, did eventually come but not until the ninetieth minute of the match. Iain Hume had come on up front for Fryatt and was waiting at the back post for Porter's perfectly delivered cross. The ball had beaten Davis in the air, so Hume had an empty goal into which to aim his header.

Leicester 2 - 0 Southampton

(De Vries 5, Hume 90)

(Makin s/off 56)

Man of he Match: Patrick Kinorbo (8)

[mark wilson27]

When we getting more of this Terk, really enjoying it

[Terk]

Cheers, Mark. Hope you continue to enjoy.

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

"It's the Djemba Twins. He's not happy at sitting in the stands."

"Tell him if he can learn not to pass the ball to the opposition, I might give him a game." I hadn't been impressed with Eric Djemba-Djemba since the season had started. Given that he had played for Manchester United and been capped numerous times for Cameroon, I had been confident when he signed that he would be a star for us in the Championship. Indeed he had impressed thoroughly during his trial in pre-season, earning himself a two year deal.

The reality was far different, however, as with Igor Biscan and Seth Johnson forming a good partnership in the middle of the park, Eric had been limited to just two starts - against Rochdale and Hull - a few more appearances off the bench. To be honest I had already begun to think that it might be best for him to seek football elsewhere come the January transfer window.

[Terk]

from Amaroq:

Still loving this, Terk. KUTGW - what a fine run of form! Of course, it had to start with a win over the Blades..

[Terk]

from Jart:

Top quality story, Terk.

[Terk]

Thanks for the kind words guys, always nice to know that people are enjoying the story I was (pleasantly) surprised by the win over the Blades, Roqy. On paper, they should be right up with West Brom given their squad, but obviously Brian Robson isn't in the same class of manager as Ian Richards

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

"You should move down here." Even I wasn't sure whether I meant move in with me or not, but Eileen didn't seem to warm to the idea anyway. She had come down for another week long visit from Edinburgh and every moment she was here I found myself wanting her to stay for longer.

I had never felt that I was a particularly grump man around the club, but my lighter mood in training was noticed in the weeks when Eileen was around. The lads took advantage of my sunny disposition and by the end of the week I had more footballs aimed at my head than I care to remember and I'd twice been picked up and dumped in an ice bath.

Craig was there to make sure they kept their focus as much on Saturday's game as possible. Three wins on the bounce had us back in everyone's mind as serious promotion candidates, and against a team in the lower half of the table we had to make it four from four.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Bristol City, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 25th November 2006

"We're going with the same team again, lads. We played really well against Southampton, I want more of the same today. Make people sit up and take notice of us." I was more worried with Bristol injuring my players than I was with them winning the game, to be honest. Three red cards for bad challenges in as many games had so far seen them escape without badly hurting anyone but it only took one unfortunate situation for that to change.

Bristol hadn't had the best of starts to the season, though no one had really expected them to. The media had plugged them for firm mid-table at the very best and that was something they were living up to in the opening half of the campaign. Their best player, manager's son Lee Johnson, was their biggest threat from midfield whilst former Hibernian winger Ivan Sproule was their top scorer.

Just as Southampton had, Bristol came with no more intention than taking a point back to Ashton Gate. We should have made them pay for their lack of ambition early on, both De Vries and Fryatt had clear chances to beat Anthony Basso but neither could direct their efforts on target.

The game continued as little more than a large scale game of attack vs defence for the rest of the half; our back four had little to do in terms of having to stop Brooker and Showunmi, the front two for the visitors. What little ball they did get was usually a hacked clearance from one of their centre backs and it didn't take much to rob them of it.

In the thirty-sixth minute, I thought my nightmare had come true. Michael McIndoe had swapped wings with Ivan Sproule after about twenty minutes, but since then he had simply had to watch Levi Porter waltz past him at will. Well, it turned out that McIndoe had a short fuse, and when Levi skipped past him for the third time in as many minutes, Bristol's Scottish winger lunged into a challenge. A loud crack was heard and Porter went head over heels from the challenge. As our winger lay on the ground he motioned frantically to the bench and we feared the worst.

We needn't have. The crack had been his shin-pad snapping and Porter had suffered nothing more than a nasty bruise to his shin, though evidently the sound of the snap and the initial pain of the challenge had panicked him as he lay prone. Referee Anthony Taylor had reached for his red card almost before Levi had hit the floor but McIndoe had the temerity to claim his dismissal was undeserved. Finally he left the field and with Porter able to carry on our path to victory had one less hurdle in its way.

As the second half started we pushed even further forward in search of the one goal we would need to make sure of a fourth win in a row. Timed ticked on, however, and the goal was yet to come. Fifty minutes passed, sixty, sixty-five, still we had yet to see the ball across the line. Subs were made, Malcolm Christie and Stephen Glass came on to see if they could create better.

In the seventieth minute the scores were still tied. The players were visibly beginning to get desperate and when Porter played Christie in behind the defence every one of the thirty-thousand fans in the ground expected a goal. Injury in the Bristol ranks had forced Ivan Sproule back to right back, and the speedy Northern Irishman moved across to try and cut off Christie's path. The former Middlesbrough man was past him, but Sproule's outstretched leg just clipped Malcolm's heel. Two yards outside the area, I was furious. Sproule's was shown a second yellow card, I was sure he would have been shown a straight red had he not been booked early on in the match and we had a free kick. Naturally it came to nothing, Levi driving his effort into the wall and watching the ball sail back towards our goal as it was cleared by the visiting defence.

Twenty minutes remained for us to play with a two man advantage. We could have not have asked for an easier situation in which to grab a game-winning goal but still whenever we were presented with a chance we shot high, wide and anywhere but the target we were supposed to be hitting. When Mr Taylor's whistle sounded for full time, I shook Gary Johnson's hand and stormed down the tunnel, waiting to demand an explanation from my players.

Leicester 0 - 0 Bristol City

(McIndoe s/off 36, Sproule s/off 70)

Man of the Match: Levi Porter (7)

[Terk]

.....

Strang Furious Over Bristol Draw

Leicester Mercury, Monday 27th November 2006

After watching his side play out a gutless, goalless draw against fellow Championship side Bristol City on Saturday, Leicester manager Michael Strang hit out at his side's inability to turn their pressure into goals.

Speaking after the game, Strang said, "There's an ambition around this club to make sure that we have a chance of reaching the Premiership, but it's not going to happen if we fail to take chances like we did today." With strikers who have scored eight goals between them in the four games before they took on Bristol, Strang has every right to be annoyed with players who failed to take advantage of a two-man numerical superiority.

Bristol were forced to play for just less than an hour with ten men after Michael McIndoe was shown a straight red card by referee Anthony Taylor for an awful challenge on Leicester winger Levi Porter. As if that weren't enough, the visitors had only nine men on the field for the final twenty minutes when Ivan Sproule was sent off for a second bookable offence - though many in the stadium thought his second challenge merited a red card on its own.

"These are the sort of games we have to win. Against nine men on our own turf, we should be putting these teams away. What makes it even more frustrating is that we've been in good form this month, our strikers have been scoring goals and we've been winning games." With Ipswich and Watford on their heels and twenty games of the season played, whilst West Brom are seemingly set to march away with the title, Strang knows that his side can afford few more slip-ups of this magnitude if there are to ply their trade in the Premiership next season.

.....

[Terk]

"Levi's going to be out for a week, maybe two. Doc says the bruising has got worse since Saturday and he needs to rest up." Craig was sitting in my office as we went over the events of the weekend, trying to find out where we went wrong. In my mind it was clear.

"I want a new striker in January."

"That's a bit harsh, is it not? We've been scoring plenty."

"I can't rely on them. I can't go into the home stretch just hoping that they're going to get us the goals we'll need."

"You got anyone in mind?"

"Not really. Is there anyone we can loan from the Premiership?"

"Anyone you'd want is already out at another club."

"There must be someone. What about in the Championship? Ade Akinbiyi?"

"Panicbuyi? I hope you're ****ing kidding."

"I am."

"There's a kid that Insúa's been talking about with the Argentina under twenties. He says he's **** hot."

"Who?"

"Mauro Zárate."

"Never heard of him."

"He's playing in Egypt. Scored pretty much one in one this season."

"We can't scout outside of Europe."

"Talk to Emiliano. If he's as good as the kid thinks, it might be worth a punt."

[Terk]

Watford vs. Leicester, Vicarage Road

Tuesday 28th November 2006

Seven points behind us but coming into the game on a four match unbeaten run, Watford were a team clearly in the mix for promotion. No one had expected much different given that they had just come down from the Premiership and the strength of squad they possessed; this trip was going to be one of our hardest of the season.

Watford, despite their talent, were plying their trade as a long-ball team and whilst we weren't the prettiest of teams to watch, I liked the players to keep the ball on the ground before they whipped crosses into the box.

For the duration of the first half, it was our way of playing that won out. We were passing crisply and quickly, getting the ball out to Kenny and Stephen on the wings and crosses were flying into the box. It took us twenty minutes to get the breakthrough that our play deserved.

With the majority of our play coming from the wide areas of the pitch, Watford were attempting to double up on our wingers. The spaces were wide open for our central midfielders, and though neither Biscan nor Johnson were the best attackers, the were making the most of it. Biscan took a pass from Pavey and played a slide-rule ball into Matty Fryatt, the striker driving a low shot past Mart Poom and into the net.

The players were clearly buzzing after Fryatt's goal and it looked like a question of when rather than if we would get a second. We answered the question pretty quickly, within three minutes in fact. Kenny Pavey took the ball on the right and started a touchline-hugging run. Hill dived in for a tackle but Kenny skipped past him, with acres of space to run into, centre back Malkay MacKay had to cover across. Pavey whipped his cross in early and Fryatt had taken up the space MacKay vacated, leaving him free to stoop low and head beyond Poom for his second of the afternoon.

"Who's that coming on?" It was the start of the second half and Watford were making a change. Craig identified the new player as Jordan Stewart, a former Leicester player who would give them far more pace and threat down the left wing. Indeed, it was Stewart who changed the game.

Two minutes after his arrival, Phil Ifil found him with a raking ball out to the left. Stewart took one touch to control and cut inside Stearman. Rich couldn't quite keep pace with him, always half a step behind and so when he challenged as Stewart raced into the penalty area the result was inevitable. Tommy Smith placed the ball confidently on the penalty spot and sent Fülöp the wrong way to halve our lead.

Watford were revitalised by the goal. There play was still direct, they still played the ball up the penalty area and quickly and as often as they could, but with Smith and Stewart high in support from the wings, they were starting to cause us real problems.

Before long an equaliser was clearly going to come. Fülöp was looking shaky and twice spilled the ball, only to be rescued by the quick reactions of his centre backs. Just after the hour, however, it finally came. Bangura lofted a high ball into the area and Ellington won the aerial battle with N'Gotty. The second ball was all-important and it broke to Marlon King who swung a right boot and connected well; Fülöp didn't move before the ball was past him.

After pulling themselves level, I expected that Watford would batter us senseless for the remaining half hour. They were certainly in the position to make our lives hell and, quite frankly, should have come away with the three points. But inexplicably they seemed content with having fought back for a point and save for a weak effort from thirty yards, Fülöp didn't have another save to make in the match.

With West Brom claiming another win as we dropped more points, the Baggies had opened up a ten point lead at the top of the table. Yes, there was more than half a season of games remaining, and yes we were still three points clear of third-placed Ipswich, but I was beginning to fear that maybe we didn-t have it in us to keep the pace over the course of a season.

Watford 2 - 2 Leicester

(Smith pen 48, King 62)

(Fryatt 20, 23)

Man of the Match: Matty Fryatt (8)

[Terk]

"What's the deal with Zárate?"

"His agent came in yesterday, whilst we were down at Watford. They want a two and a half year deal, hundred and twenty five grand a year."

"Sounds more than reasonable."

"Yeah, Paul had no problem with it. He put an offer matching their terms on the table, just up to Mauro now." Sitting in the stands, watching the reserves play Rushden, Craig and I were more interested in the potential signing of Mauro Zárate than what was happening during the first forty-five minutes. The club's Chief Executive, Paul Aldridge, had met with the Argentinian's representative and given Craig's report, I was confident he would sign on.

The game got more exciting in the second half, trailing by one at the break, Billy McKay was introduced for the second half and the seventeen year old Scot proceeded to tear the Rushden defence apart. It was his twenty-fifth match of the season between the reserves and under-eighteens, and the hat-trick he scored took his goal tally to twenty-six in those matches.

--

The board meeting on Friday morning went well. Again I was told how delighted the board were with the side's progress - evidently they just looked at league position rather than results - and we had managed to turn a profit of just shy of half a million pounds in November. Paul gave a more detailed report of how the Zárate negotiations went, and signed off with the opinion that it was ninety percent likely that we had our man.

[Terk]

| Pos   | Inf   | Team           | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 1st   |       | West Brom      | 21    | 17    | 2     | 2     | 38    | 15    | +23   | 53    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 2nd   |       | Leicester      | 21    | 13    | 4     | 4     | 37    | 17    | +20   | 43    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 3rd   |       | Ipswich        | 21    | 12    | 4     | 5     | 44    | 33    | +11   | 40    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 4th   |       | Wolves         | 21    | 12    | 2     | 7     | 34    | 22    | +12   | 38    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 5th   |       | Watford        | 21    | 11    | 3     | 7     | 35    | 26    | +9    | 36    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 6th   |       | Crystal Palace | 21    | 10    | 5     | 6     | 24    | 20    | +4    | 35    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 7th   |       | Barnsley       | 21    | 9     | 6     | 6     | 23    | 19    | +4    | 33    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 8th   |       | Charlton       | 21    | 9     | 5     | 7     | 26    | 20    | +6    | 32    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 9th   |       | Southampton    | 21    | 9     | 4     | 8     | 38    | 34    | +4    | 31    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 10th  |       | Plymouth       | 21    | 8     | 6     | 7     | 33    | 25    | +8    | 30    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 11th  |       | Sheff Wed      | 21    | 8     | 6     | 7     | 26    | 29    | -3    | 30    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 12th  |       | Sheff Utd      | 21    | 9     | 3     | 9     | 31    | 36    | -5    | 30    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 13th  |       | Burnley        | 21    | 8     | 5     | 8     | 29    | 30    | -1    | 29    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 14th  |       | Bristol City   | 21    | 8     | 4     | 9     | 26    | 26    | 0     | 28    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|
| 15th  |       | Hull           | 21    | 7     | 6     | 8     | 30    | 31    | -1    | 27    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 16th  |       | Scunthorpe     | 21    | 7     | 4     | 10    | 26    | 30    | -4    | 25    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 17th  |       | Stoke          | 21    | 5     | 8     | 8     | 26    | 30    | -4    | 23    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 18th  |       | Blackpool      | 21    | 7     | 1     | 13    | 22    | 33    | -11   | 22    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 19th  |       | Q.P.R.         | 21    | 6     | 4     | 11    | 20    | 33    | -13   | 22    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 20th  |       | Cardiff        | 21    | 3     | 12    | 6     | 19    | 23    | -4    | 21    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 21st  |       | Norwich        | 21    | 4     | 9     | 8     | 19    | 29    | -10   | 21    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 22nd  |       | Preston        | 21    | 5     | 5     | 11    | 30    | 37    | -7    | 20    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 23rd  |       | Coventry       | 21    | 5     | 1     | 15    | 24    | 31    | -7    | 16    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| 
| 24th  |       | Colchester     | 21    | 3     | 5     | 13    | 11    | 42    | -31   | 14    | 
| -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|

[Terk]

"I know I've not been to see you in a while. There's been a lot on my mind. Eileen died last month. I've been trying to make peace with the boys but neither of them wants to talk to me. I can't seem to do anything right since everyone found out about you. Nobody wants to know me except for a few drunks in bars and all they want to hear about is the football. I feel like I'm a bloody leper.

I guess I shouldn't be worrying you with all this. None of it was your fault, they were my choices. You live and die by them, I suppose you'll always be mentioned when people remember me. You'll be tainted by association. It's not fair, but there's nothing I can do now.

It's a beautiful day, just the sort you loved. I brought you some more flowers. I'd best be off, I'll try and come back soon." Michael slowly, achingly raised himself from where he had been kneeling and laid the flowers on Sarah's grave. Quietly he muttered a prayer before he began his long walk back to the cemetery gates.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. Colchester, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 2nd December 2006

"Honestly, I'm not sure there's one of them I've even ****ing heard of." Studying the Colchester team sheet an hour before kick off had given me little clue as to what to expect. I'd gone through a few tapes of their recent games but given the number of defeats they'd suffered it was hardly worth trying to identify a threat. Having scored only eleven goals in twenty-one games it was the sort of game I was expecting us to cruise through.

With Seth Johnson suspended for one match after picking up his fifth yellow card of the season against Watford, Djemba Djemba came in for a rare start alongside Igor Biscan in the middle of the park. Levi Porter wasn't quite back to full fitness yet so Stephen Glass kept his place on the left whilst De Vries and Fryatt were kept together at the head of the attack.

The crowd was singing from the start of the game, obviously confident in our success and we very nearly took the lead inside the first minute. The players looked fired up by the reception the fans had given them and took the game straight to Colchester, Biscan lofting a ball over the defence and Matty Fryatt's snap shot beating Noel Valladares only to bounce back out off the post.

It didn't take us very long to get ourselves in front, but it was our fourth clear chance of the match before we grabbed the goal. We seemed able to stroll through the visitors' defence at will, Connolly and Baldwin provided no resistance whatsoever to Fryatt and De Vries, but it was Glass who provided the breakthrough.

Balogh and Granville seemed more intent on playing as wingers rather than fulfilling their full back duties, and that had given both Glass and Pavey the freedom to get into the box unchallenged. Glass did just that when Clive Clarke brought the ball down the left flank, the Irishman rolling a square pass across the penalty area for which Glass didn't have to break his stride before arrowing his shot into the top corner of the net.

Perhaps it was the ease with which we were cutting through Colchester that brought out the complacency which infected our game. All of a sudden everyone wanted on the scoresheet and players such as Biscan and Kisnorbo were trying shots from upwards of thirty yards. Craig and I were screaming from the sidelines but it seemed not to help as we missed chance after chance, constantly going for the spectacular and messing it up.

Harsh words were said at half time. We may have been leading and in little danger of throwing it away, but I was convinced that if we kept throwing away such incredible chances as we had done in the first half it would come back to bite us in the ass. The intended effect had been that the boys would continue playing with the same verve and style but finish what they started and claim the three or four goals their play deserved.

It didn't work that way. The team that took the field in the second half seemed scared and totally clammed up. We appeared to have drained any confidence they had to play, their passes were going astray and the supply of ball to Mark and Matty dried up completely. The crowd started getting on their back, the Colchester players picked up on the fact that we were so very nervous and they began to play some football of their own.

Their equaliser was inevitable. From around the hour mark they were fully in control of the game and it was simply a matter of when rather than if. Still, when the clock ticked over into the ninety-first minute I thought we might have somehow escaped. I was wrong. A harmless looking ball into the area skipped up off the wet turf and hit Bruno N'Gotty on the arm. There was no question that it was a penalty, I had no argument whatsoever, and with Bruno already on a yellow card, the second yellow which turned it to red was just as correct a decision. My hopes now rested on Martón Fülöp's shoulders, but the Hungarian was unable to stop Béla Balogh's spot kick, the right back firing high into the roof of the net and ensuring his side left with a point.

Leicester 1 - 1 Colchester

(Glass 12)

(Balogh pen 90+1)

Man of the Match: Matthew Connolly (8)

[Terk]

"I was gutted. I thought we'd got through to the whistle."

"No question over the decision?"

"None at all. Bruno's got his hand out where it has no business being, and he'd already had a yellow so the ref had no choice but to give him a red."

"You're still in second place though and you must be confident of at least a play-off spot."

"Three without a win now is a little worrying, I guess we're a bit lucky that the others have had a few poor results as well. We've done better than anyone expected and we've just got to make sure we get a win on the board soon." My first appearance on Sky's 'Goals on Sunday' had gone well, despite Kamara laying into our finishing from the day before.

I could still not really come to terms with the fact that we had dropped two points against Colchester. I'd watched the tape twice on Saturday night and had identified no fewer than thirteen chances which I felt should have been scored and four or five more which could have resulted in a goal. There had been a bit of a backlash in the local press, coming just a week after dominating but failing to beat Bristol City there was a suggestion that we were beginning a slow but inexorable slide down the table. Of course I assured the press and fans that this was nonsense, but the same thoughts had crossed my mind more than a few times on Saturday night.

[Terk]

"What's the FA Cup draw?"

"Tranmere away."

"Not bad, at least we avoided a Premiership side."

"How did the Mauro meeting go?"

"Signed and sealed. He's ours as of January 1st. But he'll not be available until maybe February."

"How come?"

"South American under twenty championships. He's likely to be called up, Argentina are probably going to win it and the final's not until the end of January. He flies out on the second, so we can parade him at half time in the Sheffield Wednesday match."

"Excellent."

"How did training go?"

"Djemba didn't turn up."

"What?"

"Complete no show. Couldn't get hold of him on his mobile or at home. You're going to have to do something."

"No ****, Sherlock." The news Craig had given me about Djemba Djemba's no show at training was the last thing I had needed to hear. Bouyed by the completion of the Zárate deal, I had returned to Leicester in good spirits, ready to prepare the side for the trip to Scunthorpe and this had brought me crashing back to earth.

There was the possibility of fining the Cameroonian. A week's wages would let him know that his actions had been unacceptable, but we softened our stance lightly, issuing him only an official warning instead. We had expected some sort of apology, at least an explanation, but he just stood in the office, listened to what we had to say and then silently made his way back to the training ground, buying himself at least a week of reserve team football in the process.

[Terk]

Scunthorpe vs. Leicester, Glanford Park

Saturday 9th December 2006

"If this lot beat us I'll quit." I wasn't particularly serious, my comment was more born out of frustration, having watched Scunthorpe rattle our woodwork three times in the first seven minutes of the match. For a team at the bottom end of mid-table, they were playing like world beaters. Or perhaps it was us playing like a pub team.

Emiliano Insúa had come in to replace the suspended N'Gotty in the heart of the defence and had players waltzing past him as if he wasn't there. Seth Johnson had returned after his one game suspension and barely passed to anyone not wearing a Scunthorpe shirt throughout the entire match.

Nevertheless, after the first ten minutes, which we had somehow survived without conceding, we began to exert some control on the game. Glass and Pavey were playing well down the wings and both De Vries and Fryatt were looking sharp up front.

After having wasted so many chances against Colchester, much of the week had been spent with shooting practice. It paid off handsomely, and as the clocked ticked into time added on at the end of the first half we had a two goal lead. The first of those had come when Kenny Pavey rolled a pass into De Vries' path and the Dutchman took one touch before thumping a shot past Joe Murphy. Ten minutes later his striker partner Fryatt got on the scoreboard, nipping in at the near post to head home Stephen Glass' left wing cross.

Of course, nothing would be quite so enjoyable if it were that easy. In the forty-fifth minute of the match, the fourth official held up his board announcing that there would be three minutes on injury time played. In the fourth of those minutes, Paul Hayes turned away from Patrick Kisnorbo and sneaked a shot inside the post to halve our lead.

I was still (stupidly) confident that we would emerge victorious and told the lads that if they kept doing what they had been doing since the tenth minute then they'd have no problem in claiming the three points. The lads went back onto the field in good spirits despite Hayes' late goal and they had to chance to re-establish the two goal lead when Fryatt headed into an empty net but was denied by an offside flag from the linesman.

From that point on, we were simply woeful. Ten minutes into the second half Scunthorpe were gifted an equaliser. Stefan Bailey hit a long shot straight at Fülöp, but the 'keeper failed to hold on, spilling the ball into the path of Elvis Hammond who tucked it home. Four minutes later Hammond was given another nicely wrapped present, Fülöp's attempted clearance arrowing straight to him and giving him the simplest of tasks to shoot into the empty net from twenty-five yards.

If we hadn't already, we now started to panic and Scunthorpe picked our defence apart at will. Their fourth goal came with sixty-seven minutes on the clock and was an easy header for unmarked centre back Andy Butler, who nodded Bailey's free kick delivery into the net with Fülöp nowhere to be seen.

That was where the rot, thankfully, stopped and we even managed to pull one back, although not until there was just a minute of normal time remaining. Mark de Vries had been replaced by DJ Campbell and he got on the end of Fryatt's cross. Though his header was parried by Joe Murphy, Campbell reacted quickly and toe-poked the rebound in to make the scoreline far more respectable than we deserved.

Scumthorpe 4 - 3 Leicester

(Hayes 45+4, Hammond 55, 59, Butler 67)

(De Vries 20, Fryatt 31, Campbell 89)

Man of the Match: Stefan Bailey (8)

[Terk]

"Michael, I'm pregnant." Michael stood motionless, stunned into a stupor by Sarah's revelation. It was something they had not discussed, not even thought about. They had been seeing each other for just less than a year, had only just moved in together and with his career finally taking off at Ibrox it was the last thing on either of their minds.

"How?"

"Pretty obvious."

"No, I mean we used..."

"They're not a hundred percent."

"****ing hell....... Are you keeping it?"

A smile broke across Sarah's face and she looked up into Michael's eyes. He managed a weak smile back before finally finding his composure and joining her in her delight.

"That's fantastic. Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet?"

"I want to wait." Michael sat down on the sofa next to her and held her tight, the happiness he felt truly genuine at the thought of a child.

[Terk]

I picked up my pen, a nice and weighty ballpoint, and hurled it at the wall. I felt like putting my fist through the computer screen or launching the telephone out of the window. The club physio had just left my office, leaving behind the news that Matty Fryatt's foot injury was worse than we had initially thought and he would be out for the best part of a month, certainly into the new year.

With the West Brom match just three days away it was the worst news I could have had. The league leaders were on a nine game winning run, the bookies had them clear favourites to make it ten and my game plan had been entirely based around getting Matty in behind their centre backs. With no win in four games I was getting worried about our form and knew the hiding I expected from Tony Mowbray's lot would shatter what little morale we had left.

--

"Oh you ****ing beauty!"Looking at the Met Office's weather forecast, my hopes for the weekend's game were suddenly restored. It was going to absolutely **** down on Saturday afternoon, and indeed for much of the time before that. West Brom's success had been based on playing very fast, flowing, attractive football but with the amount of rain forecast, the pitch would be a total bog before kick-off and would hopefully bring them down to our level.

[Terk]

Leicester vs. West Brom, Walkers Stadium

Saturday 16th December 2006

I had a lot of admiration for West Brom. I envied the squad that Tony Mowbray had at his disposal and the ability they had to play good football. In truth, the players available to me limited us to playing one way - getting the ball wide and getting crosses into the box for De Vries or Christie or playing balls over the top for Fryatt or Campbell to chase. Still, we had beaten them once and had to believe we could do it again.

The heavens had been kind to us. From Thursday on Leicester had been battered by rain, so much so that the city was almost drowning, certainly our pitch was. Great work by the ground staff had made the surface just about playable but there was simply no way that West Brom would be able to play their normal game. The question was no whether they could adapt or not.

With Fryatt out of the side, I decided to continue with the little-and-large combination, bringing in DJ Campbell to partner Mark de Vries in our frontline. The rest of the team picked itself with Bruno N'Gotty back from suspension; we were becoming a very settled eleven now but hadn't seen the great effects of that on our results.

The players took to the field with a bit of a war cry ringing in their ears. I'd had enough of trying to get the best out of them with a softly-softly approach, so sending them out with a demand that they show their talent against the best in the division and remind everyone just what we could do was the next thing to try.

For the first half at least it had worked. The predictions of West Brom being unable to play in the mud were spot on and it seemed they had no ability to mix their game up and fight for the win. We came close to taking the lead on three occasions, the best chance of which fell to Mark de Vries, but unmarked from eight yards he sent his header too close to Dean Kiely and the Irishman tipped it over the bar.

We were forced into a change during the half time break. Three minutes before the interval, Igor Biscan had received a hefty blow in a challenge with Robert Koren and our Croatian, though he managed to limp through to half time clearly had a dead leg and Stephen Glass was sent on in his place.

With the boys sent out again having been told in no uncertain terms that the game was their's for the winning, I sat back in the dugout with a strange sense of expectation about the prospects of victory. Tony definitely seemed worried on the West Brom side and our respective feeling were proved right just three minutes after the restart.

DJ Campbell had been dropping deep all through the match to pick the ball up and help get it to De Vries; the Dutchman had been causing Pelé and Cesar so many problems in the first half they looked almost murderous. This time, however, Dudley just picked the ball up and ran with it. He kept running with it when he reached the West Brom penalty area and then just as Cesar moved in for the challenge, he fired off a shot. Kiely reacted quickly and got down to his right, getting a hand to the ball but he could only push it sideways, directly into the path of De Vries who tapped into the empty net and wheeled away, his arm held aloft.

The confidence was evident in the side now, and the second goal seemed only a matter of time. It came just before the hour mark and it was no less than Campbell deserved for his hard work. Dean Kiely hadn't covered himself in glory with our first goal, and neither did he with the second. It was his clearance which went straight to Glass, the veteran Scot quickly finding Campbell with an excellent pass and the striker finished well past Kiely to compound the 'keeper's misery.

It really was no just a matter of how many we wanted, and the boys seemed happy to settle for three. With sixteen minute left on the clock, and with Malcolm Christie on to give the worn out Campbell a rest, we grabbed the goal that removed any slight lingering doubt. De Vries found Levi Porter wide on the left flank and the simple move was finished off with Porter crossing deep into the penalty area and Christie rising high to head home at the back post. It wasn't rocket science, it was just football to suit the conditions. And it was the sort of win that ensured people would keep talking about us in the promotion battle.

West Brom did salvage one consolation goal late on, on-loan Man City striker Ishmael Miller had come off the bench and injected some much needed pace to their game, so it wasn't a surprise to see him bag their goal. He peeled away from Kisnorbo and took Chaplow's pass in his stride, only taking one touch to steady himself before whipping a shot across Fülöp and into the net.

Leicester 3 - 1 West Brom

(De Vries 48, Campbell 57, Christie 74)

(Miller 88)

Man of the Match: Mark de Vries (9)

[Terk]

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"De Vries Can Take Leicester Up" - Savage

Leicester Mercury, Monday 18th December 2006

Former Leicester City favourite Robbie Savage spoke yesterday of his belief that Dutch striker Mark de Vries can spearhead the side's bid for promotion to the Premiership. During his appearance on Sky Sports' 'Goals on Sunday' programme, Savage said, "He's the type of player who can be very successful at that level. He's a big, strong guy, he's great in the air and he'll cause any defence a problem. He was at his best yesterday and if they can keep him playing like that then I've no problem believing they could be in the Premiership next season."

As Savage said, De Vries was at his powerful best in Saturday's game against West Brom at the Walkers Stadium. The former Hearts frontman reveled in the wet conditions which made life difficult for the visitors and as well as opening the scoring just after half time, he was heavily involved with the third goal, scored by Malcolm Christie.

De Vries' effort took his tally to ten in twenty appearances for the Foxes this season, though only eighteen of those have seen him start the match. Though there have been whispers that manager Michael Strang will look to offload him in January with the imminent arrival of Argentinian wonderkid Mauro Zárate, there is a growing feeling that his presence in the side will become more vital as the season goes on.

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[Terk]

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Pardew Fears De Vries Threat

Leicester Mercury, Friday 22nd December 2006

Charlton manager Alan Pardew has today spoken of his respect for Leicester and, in particular, Dutch striker Mark de Vries. The two sides, locked in a battle for the second automatic promotion spot behind West Brom, come head to head tomorrow afternoon at the Valley and Pardew admitted he admires the Foxes' efforts this season.

"Very few teams have even got close to West Brom this season, they're absolutely the class of the field but Leicester have beaten them twice. That shows just how good a side they are. They're in second place on merit and it's up to us to take it off them."

De Vries, whose efforts last weekend against league leaders West Brom drew praise from none other than Leicester legend Robbie Savage, was singled out by Pardew. "De Vries is a big threat to any defence. He's wonderful in the air and Leicester have been getting quality balls into him all season. We'll have to stop that supply tomorrow if we're to stop them."

The Dutchman, whose signing raised eyebrows when former manager Craig Levein brought him in from Hearts, has most definitely won over the doubters this season and will be looking to further his side's promotion claims by adding to his goal tally at The Valley tomorrow.

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