Luton Town : Staring into the Abyss

[ScottleeSV]

09/08/09 - The Bear necessities

Despondant and disillusioned after yesterday’s game, I went to get p!ssed up around the town centre today. At least, that’s what I set out to do. On my way to the first pub I got distracted by the sight of the East Side Dojo across the street. Most of the shops in Luton are quiet on God’s day of rest, but the dojo seems to be open seven days a week. I don’t think I’ve ever walked past and seen it closed. It’s been a while since I went inside though – maybe six months or more.

“Gi-raffe! Gi-raffe! Gi-raffe!” was the chant I heard as I went through the door.

“Ah, skunk!” said Bear, spotting me before anybody else. “Do come and join us”.

Appromixately twenty dojo members were all circled around two small tables connected on top by a long thick block of ice. The gap between the tables was about two feet. The man who I guessed was known as ‘Giraffe’ was stood closest to the tables/ice, and he was praying.

“Gi-raffe! Gi-raffe! Gi-raffe!” continued the chants.

“A ninja’s greatest weapon is not his hands” Bear began, as I reached him on the edge of the circle. “Nor is it his feet. In fact, his greatest weapon will always be his brain. When the brain is spoiled, the ninja will cease to be effective. Therefore, it is very important the shell around a ninja’s brain is aptly able to protect it”.

“Gi-raffe! Gi-raffe! Gi-raffe!”

“So let me guess - the object here is for the ninja to break the ice in two using his head?”

“Your own brain functions very well, Skunk. Yes you are correct”.

Before I could reply again, the chanting around us subsided. Giraffe looked ready to make his play. First though he seemed to be looking at Bear for one last piece of encouragement.

“Well? Break it!” Bear shouted. “Your honour demands it!”

Giraffe turned to face the ice and then with an almighty roar brought his head down hard on it. The ice didn’t break, but Giraffe’s head looked like it might just; it almost bounced back off the block. The crowd meanwhile fell deafly silent.

“Argh!” Giraffe shouted, clutching his forehead and crumbling down onto the floor.

“Fool!” Bear shouted. “If you don’t apply every ounce of available force, the ice will sense your fear and reject the breakage. Take twenty four hours to consider this – down in the cellar. Eagle! Take him down! Everybody else, you may leave. Today’s meeting is over”.

All the students ran to the side of the room to get changed. Bear meanwhile, on realising Eagle was not immediately onhand to deal with Giraffe, turned his attention back to me.

“Skunk, drag this imbecile into the parlour. Eagle will take it from there”.

Not feeling entirely comfortable with this, I picked up Giraffe’s arms and began to drag him towards the door Bear was pointing to. Giraffe wasn’t entirely unconscious but he was certainly stunned. Once I was at the door I dropped the two arms and pushed it open. Eagle, as predicted, was in the room beyond. He picked up the reigns from here and hauled Giraffe into the room.

Just as I was about to turn back and rejoin Bear, I noticed inside the parlour room a rather strange sight. By one of the walls was a huge cluster of candles, and just above them a large A4 size photograph sellotaped to the wall. Indeed Eagle had been knelt down in front of the candles and photo at the moment I’d opened the door. What made this situation ‘strange’ was the fact I recognised the man in the picture. It was Brute. The photo was of him in his chauffeur guise and showed him opening a car door.

“What’s with the photo on the wall in the other room?” I asked, once I was back with Bear.

“Why? Do you know the man in the photo?”

“Me? No. I was just curious”.

Behind me I could hear the distant thumping of Giraffe’s head against the cellar steps as Eagle dragged him down.

“We do not yet know who the man in the photograph is” Bear replied curtly. “However, he is sought by us, and we hold prayer that we may find him soon”.

“Why?”

“A few months ago one of my men was out having a Chinese meal when he was pestered by two drunken white men. My man easily dismantled these men single-handedly, but then another man appeared, the man you see in the photograph. This third man took on my man and beat him. To make matters worse, the owner of the restaurant blamed my man for starting the trouble in the first place. So, he was arrested. All the men he had been fighting against however were allowed to walk away free. Now we seek the appropriate retribution for this insult”.

“I see”.

Bear turned to look at me and then refocused his glare on the ice block.

“The name of the arrested man was Llama – one of my very best men. It’s hard for me to imagine the skill of the man capable of defeating him. Never the less, we will find his conqueror and we will have our revenge. Our honour demands it”.

“What happened to Llama after he was arrested?” I asked.

“He was taken to the police station, where apparently he made his situation worse by assaulting some officers. He will now serve time in prison. However, before he left us, he was briefly allowed out on bail. It was during this period he helped take the picture which now resides on our wall”.

“You might have trouble defeating the man in the picture. He looks....Brutish”.

“Have no fear, I will defeat him. Even if my students are not capable of doing the job, I will do it myself – hand to hand”.

I suddenly had a vision of Brute and Bear flying towards each other in the sky, going head to head like two superheroes. Were they to actually fight, I had no idea who would win. I wasn’t about to tell Bear who Brute was though. That would be something Dilic would definitely not approve of me doing (Nor Brute himself, most likely).

“Forgive me, Skunk. Since you have been here today I have not asked how you have been doing recently. How are you?”

Slowly I began to tell Bear about my latest problems at Kenilworth Road, and how potentially close I might be to getting the sack. I told him all about how three months of hard work seemed to have gone completely down the spout with the draw against Woking. As I did this, Eagle reappeared and came to join us.

“You have come on a good day” was Bear’s response to my tale of woe. “I can use this unbroken block of ice to teach you a good lesson in relation to your problems. In the past I have taught you about the importance of never showing weakness to your opponents, and I have also taught you about anticipation. Today however, to maximise the effectiveness of the lesson, I must hide from you what the lesson is about. But first tell me – have you ever considering walking away from Luton and seeking a fresh start elsewhere?”

“No. I decided a long time ago I would stick it out until the bitter end. I don’t plan to change my mind on that”.

“Okay. Now then, let’s see if you can do what Giraffe could not. Let’s see if you can break the block of ice with your head”.

“You’re kidding me”.

“No Skunk, I am not”.

He was deadly serious. I could see it in his eyes.

“What kind of lesson is this?” I enquired. “I don’t need to learn how to break a block of ice”.

“Will you attempt to break the ice or not?”

I looked at the ice and then at Bear. Then I looked at the ice again. It was too thick. I would never break it.

“I’m not doing it, and that’s my final answer. I’m sorry Bear but I’m no ninja”.

Bear smiled and raised his hand as if to shut me up.

“Relax. You have made the correct decision. Without our intensive physical training you would only have injured yourself like Giraffe did. The point of the lesson however was not to break the ice, but to see whether you would make the attempt. You didn’t though – you walked away”.

“I don’t understand”.

“When a ninja faces any challenge, there are only two acceptable outcomes; he may either win or walk away. To lose however is to disgrace himself. Now tell me, Skunk, why is it you can walk away from the ice challenge but not the doomed Luton job?”

“Because the Luton job is more important to me? I don’t know”.

“Then by all means continue to try and tame this beast which so regularly depresses you, Skunk. Heed my words though – win or walk. Don’t lose though. Never lose. Now go! I must devote the rest of my day to finding the man on the wall. Consider today’s lesson a freebie”.

“Thanks. And see ya”.

I turned around and began to head out. Before I could get there though, Bear spoke up once more.

“Wait! Before you leave, would like to see a more competent ninja break the ice?”

“Actually I would, now that you mention it” I said, curious to see Bear in action.

“Okay then. So be it”.

Bear turned to face Eagle and clicked his fingers.

“Eagle! Break it”.

Without question Eagle stepped over to the two tables and got himself into position. Despite the ageing manservant’s obvious high standing within the dojo, I feared for him slightly here. Never the less, down went his head and miraculously the ice cracked in two and fell between the tables.

“Bravo” said Bear.

Eagle grinned, and I felt like applauding (I really did!). A couple of seconds later however a red trickle of blood began seeping down past Eagle’s nose. He gasped in surprise and tottered off towards the parlour room to tend to the damage.

“He’ll be okay” Bear said, shaking his head.

“Cheerio then” I said cheerfully, turning back to the doors.

[FlownCanary]

tough game against Woking dude! And if Bear and Brute have a match, will you sell me a ticket?

[ScottleeSV]

Canary, I will reserve you and your g/f VIP seats

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11/08/09 - Clash of the Blue Square Giants

One of the reasons I was so desperate to beat Woking was because of the nature of our second fixture. On paper anyway, Oxford away is the toughest game of the season. The fixture computer though has coughed it up for us in August so we’ve just got to get on with it. It could have been worse; we could have been playing Fairclough and his thugs down on Kingstonian common. As much it pains me to say it, I’d rather play Oxford at this stage.

The U’s, like ourselves, are suffering the worst period in their entire history. Like us they can point to having been league cup winners and a top flight club as recently as in the past twenty five years. Since 2006 however they’ve been languishing down in the Conference, and it’s on this latter point we should take note. Despite being the biggest club in the divison, Oxford have failed to gain promotion back to the football league no fewer than three times in a row. Their fans are probably even more success starved than ours.

The pain doesn’t end there. Whilst we were slugging our way to that 1-1 draw against Woking at the weekend, the much fancied Oxford were suffering the indignity of a 2-1 reversal away to Ebbsfleet. It was not the way either ‘giant’ envisaged starting the season, and now this early meeting between the two of us seems to have generated even more significance. Whichever manager loses tonight is going to be under immense pressure after just two games, and if it’s a draw then both of us will be under scrutiny.

To mentally prepare myself for the game I decided to repeat an old trick from last season and go sightseeing. I only had time to visit one place so I went to The Oxford University Museum. If you’ve read the diary from start to finish you’ll know by now how much of a museum freak I am. In a place like Oxford though, so famous for its university, it seemed doubly fitting today to do something of an intellectual mold. Whilst I was there I also visited The Pitt Rivers Museum, accessible only from the museum building aforementioned.

I must admit, I missed Cassie slightly. Last season I became used to her popping out of nowhere whenever I was on one of these jaunts. She just wouldn’t do that now. She’s not the type of girl to risk being labelled a stalker, or even half of a stalker. Not that I would have made her feel unwelcome if she had turned up. The extent of my resistance for that girl only goes so far. It’s just lucky for the both of us she doesn’t overly test my rather frail defences.

The Kassam stadium is a strange one. It’s got three very large all-seater stands and then a huge gap of nothingness where the fourth stand should be. It’s more modern than our ground (as you would expect), but I think ours is more homely. I was stood on the touchline looking around the empty seats at about 6.30pm when suddenly I was startled by a woman with a microphone. In her wake were two cameraman both wearing glasses.

“James Martin?”

“Hello” I said defensively.

“Nadine Gouvell, Live Bunny. Can I ask your thoughts ahead of tonight’s game?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. Errr, well, I’m hoping we can come here and take all three points. It will be hard though. Oxford are one of the pre-season favourites for the title and they’re much more experienced at this level”.

I couldn’t help noticing a picture of a smiling white bunny rabbit on the side of the main camera. At some point during the conversation, and I can’t remember when exactly, Nadine twisted around to face the camera just enough for me to observe a slightly bigger version of the exact same bunny on the back of her jacket. Talk about tacky! I swear to God, the sooner we get out of this f__king league, the better.

“Saturday was your first game in the Blue Square Premier. What did you make of the experience?”

“It was good. It’s a really great league, and clearly the standard of football is very high from top to bottom”.

“And presumably, the target for Luton is an immediate return to the football league?”

“That’s the plan, yes”.

Nadine turned back to the camera. I must have been more nervous about the match than I’d realised, because it was only at this juncture (minutes rather than seconds after being disturbed) I noticed she was actually quite fit. Maybe my brain had just needed to see all the angles before completing the analysis.

“Later on we’ll also be speaking to the Oxford manager” Nadine informed the camera. “And at half time, we’ll be telling you how you can win tickets to a match of your choice in this season’s Live Bunny Cup!”

“Oooh, cosmic!” I said over her shoulder.

The presenter made the motion of slitting her own throat to the two camera boys.

“James!” she said playfully, turning around again. “I’ve got to get this in the can before the show starts!”

“I'm sure you'll get it on the next take. I’m heading for the changing rooms anyway”.

“Okay. Oh, you’re okay with us interviewing you during the match, right?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really”.

“Just please try and pick your moments, okay? I’ve got a team to manage”.

“Will do”.

I left Nadine and her crew and headed for the changing rooms. Just before I left pitchside, my eyes caught hold of the first few home fans beginning to take their places in the blue-seated stand above. The countdown was well and truly sprung now. It was time to once again jump into the cauldron and see if I could swin.

‘She’s wasted on Live Bunny, that one’

And thoughts like that will prove the ruin of me. Discipline, 007. Discipline.

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Next - Oxford v Luton

[FlownCanary]

Ooooh, a new love interest for you there, mate.

[ScottleeSV]

You never know, Canary

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11/08/09, League Match 2

Oxford United v Luton Town

GK – Dean Brill

DL – Charlie Daniels

DR – Claude Gnakpa

DC – George Pilkington

DC – David McCracken

ML – Clint Easton

MR – Michael Taylor

DMC – Kevin Nicholls

MC – Keith Keane

FC – Michael Bridges

FC – Jamie Guy

I made three changes from the team which drew with Woking, only one of them forced. Cadamateri injured himself in the warm-up so in came Jamie Guy to partner Michael Bridges up front. On the left side of midfield I decided to give Easton another in chance in place of Daniels. That didn’t mean I was done with the ex Tottenham youngster; I moved him back into his natural left back position at the expense of Richie Byrne. I also dropped Tony James for David McCracken.

Despite my chopping and changing in search of the perfect formula, Oxford made the stronger start to the match. It was quite a muddy pitch thanks to afternoon rain and the home side adapted to it the fastest. After 5 minutes Murray played the ball sideways to Benjamin, thirty yards from goal. Benjamin then fed Farrell on the edge of the area. The striker completely bamboozled Pilkington before rifling in a low shot. Brill got down and made a nervy save, mud already covering two thirds of the ball.

The home fans were in full voice for this one and evidently optimistic of turning us over. I could hardly blame them – we were being pegged back in our own half and being put under the cosh. After 9 minutes the U’s attacked us bang down the centre of the pitch. Farrell and Benjamin linked up again, and this time the latter fed a player named Elder, sending him through on goal from a slight angle. The shot was aimed across Brill towards the far corner. My keeper got a hand to it to keep it out, and Daniels hacked the ball away from in the onrushing Farrell.

I was just about to start bawling some instructions to my non-existent midfield when I suddenly realised there was a microphone in front of my face.

“James, a nervy start so far. What are your thoughts?”

“Errrr, well, we’ve definitely got to get better”.

“Your goalkeeper Dean Brill really had to be alert then to save from Elder”.

“Errr yeah” I replied, assuming that to be a question.

“Okay James, well, we’ll leave you to it”.

It was just shy of the half hour mark before we had our first shot on goal. It was a good chance too. Keane fed Nicholls who then chipped a ball over the top for Guy to chase. He was clean through here but the goalkeeper came out swiftly. By the time Guy got his shot away there wasn’t much left of the goal to aim at. He got it on target but it was saved. Still, at this point I felt we were improving. I felt we had stemmed the early Oxford tide and were coming back into the match.

But hey, what did I know about it? The home side snapped out of their lull after the Guy chance and went back on the offensive. In the 32nd minute a corner from the right was played out towards the edge of the area and the dangerous Elder. In a move probably born on the training ground, Elder dummied the ball and allowed it to run through to Foster. My defence charged down the Foster shot but the ball ran free to Rhodes on the penalty spot, and he fired just wide through a crowd of players. That could easily have been a goal.

Just a minute later another corner was headed out only as far as central defender Matt Day. He smacked one at goal and Brill had to spring into a full length dive to keep it out. The U’s weren’t done there though. After 37 minutes Brill kicked the ball downfield only for it to be headed straight back over our defence. Elder latched onto it and left McCracken and Pilkington for dead. He once again aimed his shot across Brill and once again Brill managed to keep it out. We were really riding our luck now.

Five minutes before the break we had a brief respite, Keane shooting two yards wide after a rare spell of Luton possession in the opposite half of the field. Fittingly however, the final chance of the half went to Oxford. A free kick thirty yards of goal was touched to Foster and his long range effort fizzed just over the bar. When the half time whistle came I was extremely glad to hear it! If anything we didn't really deserve to go in level.

--------

Half time – Oxford 0 Luton 0

Martin mood’o’meter – Down in the dumps.

--------

My half time rant about how not to pass a football in mud was forgotten as early as the 49th minute. Defender Foster, who was having a superb game up until now, launched a long ball over the top of my overworked defence and Elder was onto it in a flash. By sheer law of averages I figured he just had to score this time. In fact he did beat Brill this time, as it happens. He also beat the crossbar. Judging by the crowd’s reaction, Elder was not their favourite person right now.

We were gifted a breather in the 53rd minute when Easton when down injured. The magic sponge couldn’t cure him so off he came for Byrne, with Daniels switching to the left wing. At the same time I also replaced Bridges with Spencer. The latter is hardly as good as Bridges, but my star striker had not had a good game. Anything was worth a gamble at this point, a view further embedded in me when Carruthers forced Brill into a smart save from distance in the 58th minute.

McCracken was almost sent off a minute later. My centre back hauled down Elder forty yards from goal when clean through, but despite deafening howls and much imaginary card waving from four thousand angry Oxford fans, the referee took pity. My heart almost skipped a beat during the moment when the yellow came out of the shirt pocket though. I couldn’t take much more of this.

With 68 minutes on the board, Brill kicked one far down the field and Foster was there to head safely away. The ball landed however at the feet of Keith Keane, and in the blink of an eye he’d lofted a delicate pass over the top for substitute Spencer to chase. He was clean through! Could he finish? Yes he could! He sold the keeper a dummy, sidestepped to his right, and then slotted low into the net. We’d scored! We’d taken the lead!

Spencer ran towards the bench like a wide-eyed maniac, as our whole substitute bench went crazy along with him. Despite a strong urge to succumb to the madness, I frantically waved at Spencer to get back to the halfway line for the kickoff. Reluctantly he abided, but he also copped a yellow card. That was okay. I could live with that.

Predictably Oxford came right back at us. A jinking run from Benjamin just three minutes later resulted in the player being pole-axed just outside the area. Emotions got the better of both sides at this point and the referee had to intervene to stop things getting out of hand. Whilst this was going on, Nadine suddenly waved that damn microphone in my face again.

“James, how does it feel to be in the lead?”

“Great, but please get that f_king microphone out of my face”.

Nadine did the throat-cut motion to her cameramen and quickly scurried away down the touchline.

It took three minutes for the game to re-start, and when it did, Farrell curled the ball around the wall and into the far corner of Brill’s net. I couldn’t believe it - I knelt down and buried my head in my arms. We had been 16 minutes away from a great win. Farrell meanwhile ran to the corner flag and began to play footsy with it. The crowd around the ground were going apesh!t. My team though looked crestfallen.

In the 81st minute, with both teams now looking tired, I made my third and final substitution. Michael Taylor hadn’t looked very good today so I took him off and replaced him with Will Buckley. I did this right in the middle of a spell where Oxford were threatening a winning goal. The closest they came was in the 84th minute when Carruthers smacked the crossbar from a full thirty yards out on the right. I think I aged about three years during the time it took for the ball to reach the bar.

Time then drifted on towards injury time, and the referee signalled for four minutes. In the fourth of those minutes, Charlie Daniels got the ball on the left. We’d been battered so much in this match I actually prayed for him to hold onto it as long as possible and run the clock down. Instead though he beat two players and shaped himself to put a cross in. He did put a cross in too, and it was a beauty. The ball evaded everyone in an Oxford shirt and landed on Spencer’s right boot.

Seconds later in was in the net. Time then seemed to stand still.

Spencer ran towards the bench for a second time, doing his best Tardelli impression from the 82 world cup in the process. This time...well, sod it....I ran forwards towards him and beckoned for everyone to jump on each other and form a huge pile-on. Even Brian got his fat ass amongst the fun. By the time the referee had broken it up and got the game re-started, there was barely time for Oxford to kick off. The game was over. We had won 2-1. Unbelievable stuff. Clearly visible over on the far side of the ground, approximately one thousand Luton fans had begun to do the conga.

FINAL SCORE (Att - 4755)

Oxford United 1 (Farrell 74)

Luton Town 2 (Spencer 68, 90+4)

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(other results from matchday 2)

AFC Wimbledon 4-0 Macclesfield

Burton Albion 2-2 Stevenage

Droylsden 2-2 Salisbury

Forest Green 1-0 Grays Athletic

Histon 0-2 Crawley

Kettering 1-2 Mansfield

Rushden 2-0 Ebbsfleet

St Albans 0-0 Cambridge

Tamworth 0-0 York

Weymouth 2-1 Northwich

Woking 1-1 Kidderminster

(early pacesetters)

1 - Rushden and Diamonds (6)

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2 - AFC Wimbledon (4)

3 - Kidderminster (4)

4 - York City (4)

5 - Salisbury (4)

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6 - Luton Town (4)

7 - Mansfield Town (4)

[ScottleeSV]

12/08/09 - Luton hold em'

“I fold” said Brenda, throwing her cards on the table.

“Me too” said Caroline.

As you may have guessed already, we were playing poker. The venue was the upstairs canteen, and the total stake was £2 each (in twenty pence pieces).

“I’ll raise by 20p” I said, flicking a solitary silver coin into the centre of the table.

“I’ll see that 20p” said Nicky, doing the same.

“Me too” confirmed Darren.

There was about £3 in the middle now. I looked at ‘the pot’ and then down at my cards. I had two pairs so far and there was still the river card to come. For those of you who don’t understand the rules of the game, I would say my present position was so-so.

“I’m going to raise by another 20p” Nicky said.

“No no, you can’t do that” I told her. “We’ve all seen each other’s bids now. It’s time to see the river card”.

“Actually I can keep on raising if I want until there’s no more bids” she insisted. “Those are the rules as we agreed at the start, aren’t they girls?”

Caroline and Brenda both slowly nodded, although I could also tell they didn’t really care either way. I looked at Darren for support but he just shook his head and kept his eyes on his cards. From this I gauged that he also had a so-so hand, and was deep in thought about how best to proceed.

“Nicky” I began. “This is Texas hold em’. In Texas hold em’, you have to.....”.

“We’re not playing Texas hold em” she interrupted. “We’re playing Luton hold em’. It’s a new version me and Caroline made up this morning. The bidding rules in Luton hold em’ are simple – everybody can bid at any time they want until they don’t want to bid anymore”.

“Jesus. Fine then. Well it’s obvious you’ve got a good hand or you wouldn’t have fought so hard to put more money in. You haven’t even seen the river card yet”.

“She hasn’t got a good hand” Darren said, matching Nicky’s latest stake. “She’s bluffing. She had that same face the other week when she tried to claim she didn’t fancy that bloke from Twilight. Later on that same day though I caught her looking at the guy's personal website”.

“I was only looking at his site to see if there was any news on the sequal!”

"Then why you didn't you just check out the official Twilight site?"

“Hey!” I interrupted. “Are we playing poker here or we talking about bloody Twilight?”

“Playing poker” Darren answered. “I’m telling you though – she’s bluffing. She’s probably got one lousy pair”.

I very much doubt that, Darren. Do you? .

Never the less, I let my eyes give Nicky the once over before I pushed my next 20p in. Reading her body language though was surprisingly difficult in these circumstances, despite how typically bubbly she was acting. Darren was also hard to read. Maybe I just suck at reading people?

“Okay then” I announced in my tone of voice usually reserved for managerial speeches. “Any more bets?”

Darren and Nicky both shook their heads.

“Right” said Caroline, taking up the reigns as voluntary croupier. “Here it comes”.

The final card turned out to be the four of spades. This didn’t give me anything more than I already had, but two pairs was still a hand capable of winning. It all depended on what the others had.

“Hmmm, interesting” remarked Darren.

“Well would you look at Mr Casino Royale over there?” Brenda said, flashing him a disparaging look.

Frankly I was too busy looking at Nicky. She was now grinning wider than I’d ever seen her grin before (no mean feat!), not to mention bobbling up and down on her chair.

“Do you need the loo?” I asked.

“No” she replied. “I’m just excited to see who wins. I’m raising by another 60p, by the way, not that I think I’ve won or anything”.

That did it for me. No way. I threw my cards down and folded my arms.

“Fold” I said stoically.

“I’m telling you, she’s bluffing” Darren re-affirmed, matching the bet and upping it by another 50p.

“I’ll see you” said Nicky without blinking.

That turned out to be the last of the bets. There was about a fiver in the pot now; you could cut the atmosphere with a breadknife, and if we didn't get a move on Nicky looked she might literally explode with anticipation.

“I’ve got.....one pair” said Darren nervously, throwing down two queens.

“Awww” Nicky replied in disappointment. “Dammit. I’ve only got a high card ace”.

“YES!” screamed Darren, fist-pumping the air.

The next minute he was up off his chair and doing a little jig, complete with lyrics and finger clicking.

“Do a little dance!....make a little love!...get down tonight!....get down tonight!”

I watched him for the briefest of seconds and then turned back to Nicky.

“You went all that way with a high card ace? That’s all you had?”

“Yeah. So? Brenda won the last round with a high card four of diamonds!”

“That’s only because everybody else folded straight away! She bought the pot!”

Darren returned to the table. With a grin larger than even some of Nicky’s finer efforts, he reached into the centre of the table and began to scoop up all the silver (“That’s it – come to papa”). As he was doing that, the others all stood up from the table, probably intent on heading back to work. I say ‘probably’ because I didn’t make it back with them.

“James?” came a voice from the doorway.

I turned around. It was Katrina, Dilic’s secretary.

“Yes Katrina?”

“You are vanted in ze board room upstairs. Mr Dilic and all ze shareholders are up there vaiting for you”.

A silence fell upon the canteen. Darren even stopped counting his money.

“What for?” I asked, rising from my seat.

“I do not know. I vos just sent to tell you”.

I thought long and hard for a second. Neither Dilic nor anybody else had ever called me up to the board room before. I’d never even seen what the board room looked like before. Was this the sack I was about to get? Surely not? Surely they wouldn’t get rid of me on the back of such a great away win at a place like Oxford? That wouldn’t make any sense to me. Still, standing here wasn’t going give me the answer to the conundrum.

“Well” I eventually responded with a smile. “I guess we’re going to the board room then. You lead the way”.

Katrina turned on her heels and walked out.

“I’ll see you back in the office, guys” I said, and with that I left them to it.

[shaggy61]

oh no it cant be the end....?

[ScottleeSV]

You'll find out below, Shaggy.....

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12/08/09 - Bad eggs

Between the canteen and the board room I had all of ninety seconds to stew, but I reckon that was probably a good thing. Can you imagine how much sleep I would have got if Katrina had told me I was wanted in the board room but not until the following morning? Anyway, once we reached the appropriate doorway on the second floor, the dark haired beauty left me to go back to her desk outide Dilic’s room, where as I nervously knocked and entered.

“Hello” I said, absorbing glares from several people at once.

“Mr Martin, do come in” spoke a middle aged white haired man.

The board room table dominated most of this room, but it wasn’t as large as you might be tempted to imagine. There were only twelve seats around the outside of it. Indeed this made Dilic’s dining table almost twice the size by comparison. Speaking of the great white Serb, he was one of the five people waiting for me to take my seat. They weren’t sat around the table however; instead they had made themselves a little circle of chairs between the table and the wall, a bit like a reading group might do. It all seemed rather informal to my eye.

“Don’t worry, Mr Martin”, the white haired man continued. “You haven’t been brought up here today to be told you’re getting fired”.

“Not today anyway”, interrupted the much younger fellow to his right.

“Daniel!” said the white hair sternly. “Calm your passions”.

I shuffled uncomfortably and tried to remain calm. Safe from the sack (today anyway), my thoughts turned to words like ‘vote’, and ‘of’, and ‘confidence’.

“Allow me to introduce myself and the people you see before you” said white hair. “My name is Paul Leonard, one of the directors of Luton Town Football Club. There are seven of us in total; five could make it here today where as two could not on such short notice. We seven directors are also the club’s primary shareholders. I believe you know Mr Dilic on the end there. He is very much our conduit to the outer world, if you will. The rest of us are private businessman with not much interest in public life or being spat at in the street by angry football fans. We like our anonymity”.

‘Until the day we win another trophy, I’ll wager’

“This here is Daniel Travers” Paul said after a pause. “Our youngest director. Then we have Gary Lee, Simon Keast, and of course, you already know Dragomir Dilic”.

As each name was announced, the person to whom it belonged smiled and nodded their head. Everybody that is except Daniel, who just glared sulkily at me as if he had things like ‘vote’, ‘of’, and ‘confidence’ on his mind.

“I’ll get down to business” announced Paul, taking his glasses off and giving them a rub. “Please share with us your version of what happened after the Oxford match the other night”.

“I don’t understand” I replied.

“What did you and the players do after the match? Where did you go? What did you do?”

“Well, we all got changed and then we went for a pint. I always allow the team to have a couple of drinks after a win. It’s like a little incentive thing I have”.

This was true enough, even if I might never have mentioned it in the diary up until now. It’s not like we win much.

“How many of the players came along on this little drinking session?”

“Most of them, I think. Actually, I think some of them decided to shoot off early. I can’t remember who though. I think Richie Byrne was one of them”.

Paul composed himself for a moment and then looked down at a piece of paper resting on his knee.

“You don’t appear to know much, Mr Martin. I’ll continue on from here. On the night in question there were five players who excused themselves from the drinking session. They were Richie Byrne, as you’ve mentioned, Richard Owusu, Keith Keane, Charlie Daniels, and Danny Cadamateri. After arriving back in Luton the five of them went to a strip club called Heavenly Hatters. Are you familiar with it?”

“I’ve heard of it but never been” I stated.

“Well anyway, to cut a long story short, the five of them eventually left the club that night with two of the dancers. Their names are Stacy Pott and Leanne Walters. At this point, we’re led to believe, Richard Owusu called it a night and went home. The other four however, together with their newfound lady friends, went to a hotel called The Royal Hotel. They checked into two adjoining rooms and stayed the night.

‘The cheeky f__ker!’ I thought, thinking specifically of Keith Keane.

“The following morning, Stacy and Leanne went to the police station and reported that they’d both been ....raped....by all four men at the same time apparently. I can’t put it any plainer than that, as horrible as it sounds. That’s the accusation”.

As Paul folded up the piece of paper now and put it in his breast pocket, I looked him in the eye but for the moment remained silent. I didn’t know what to think about this news. I hadn’t expected it at all.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this but this a very serious accusation indeed” Paul continued. “Whether they’re innocent or not, the press are going to have a field day. We’ve brought you here today to stress to you personally just how serious a matter this is”.

“How shall I proceed then?” I asked, genuinely clueless as to how I could deal with this situation.

“The press haven’t found out yet” Daniel butted in. “They will find out soon though, and when they do find out, the first person they’re going to come looking for is you. They’re going to ask you all sorts of awkward questions so you’d better be ready. Say nothing though! No matter how hard they come at you, you say nothing! Fob them off! Tell them you’re a football man and that’s all you’re at the club for”.

“Don’t worry, I won’t give them anything. I don’t know any major details anyway. I don’t even want to know”.

“You’d better not give them anything!” Daniel stressed, pointing his finger at me. “We know how poor you are with the press. That’s part of the reason why we’re meeting you face to face over this whole thing. If you mess this up though, you’ll be sacked instantly. I repeat – don’t say a goddamn word that could get either this club or those players into any more trouble than that which is already inevitable! Mouth zipped! Comprende?”

“Daniel!” said Paul, a feint look of unease on his face. “Let’s not get carried away. James, please listen to what he’s saying though because it’s very important. Once the press do find out, it might be prudent for us to give an official press conference on the subject. If that’s the case then it will be you out there fending off all the volleys. Do you understand?”

“Like I said, you can count on me” I insisted.

“Good”.

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive to the alleged victims here, but am I still going to be able to use these players until the whole matter gets cleared up?”

“Absolutely” said Simon Keast, speaking for the first time. “Innocent until proven guilty. However, if they are eventually found guilty then obviously they’ll be banged up and you’ll lose all four of them”.

“I don’t even want to think about that eventuality” said Paul, rubbing his forehead. “Can you imagine the headlines? Luton Town, the club which bore four rapists. Can you just picture what it would do to this club? Let’s just hope and pray those idiots didn’t actually do this”.

“I’m sure they didn’t” I added, trying to sound positive.

“If you have any questions, James, that you need help with over the next few weeks, please ask Dragomir straight away. If anything crops up you can’t deal with – harassment from press, police, or even fans, for instance, don’t take a blind shot in the dark if you’re unsure as to how to deal with it. Call Dragomir and he will advise you from there”.

“You may call me anytime you vish” confirmed Dilic.

“Okay then, I think this just about ends the meeting. James, you may go. Thanks for coming”.

“That’s quite okay”.

I walked quietly out of the room and headed downstairs to the office. Even now, five minutes after the news had been broken to me, I still didn’t know what to make of it. I wasn’t angry, or sad, or worried, or concerned, about players or alleged victims. Until I had a better handle on whether the accusation was true or not, I didn’t really feel much of anything. In the meantime, I suppose the only thing I could do was get on with my job.

As soon as I opened the office door...

“Are you fired?” Caroline asked, standing up from her desk.

“No, I’m still here for now” I replied.

“What did they want then?” asked Nicky.

‘I'm sorry but you really don't want to know the answer to that'

“They gave me a formal warning over the size of the club’s wage expenditure. I’ve got to get it down as much as I can between now and the end of the season”.

“The cheeky bastards!” said Darren. “Do they want promotion or not? Talk about unambitious. Laughing stock this club - always has been always will be".

[ScottleeSV]

14/08/09 - Girls who want boys

“We could just start without him” said an infuriatingly cocky Danny Cadamateri.

“No, we’ll wait” I replied.

We were in my private office. As well as myself and Danny, there were also two other members of the Royal Hotel Four present. We were just waiting on Richie Byrne now, who was ten minutes late and counting. The shareholders might have told me not to talk to the press about what had happened, but they hadn’t said anything about not talking to the players. As such, I had set up my own little meeting today with the alleged culprits. I wanted to get a better handle on what had transpired straight from the horses’ mouths.

Cadamateri, together with Charlie Daniels and Keith Keane, were sat along the row of temporary chairs I had placed in front of my desk. I on the other hand was stood facing the window with my hands behind my back. Outside I could see Fred Pilchard mowing the grass on the pitch. That guy always seems to be out there doing something – anything – wind, rain, or shine. The day I look out of my office window and Fred isn’t down there, that will probably be the day I suspect the world has been taken over by something akin to that rage virus on 28 Days Later.

I was distracted from my movie geek thoughts by the sound of the door bursting open. In light of how keen I was to get on with this meeting, I decided to let Byrne off the hook for entering without knocking. Just this once, mind.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic”.

“Just sit down, Richie”.

Byrne took the final seat on the end of the row, and I also sat down on my chair. I took a slurp of my coffee and eyed the four faces in front of me. Time to get down to business.

“Okay, there’s only to going be one rule for this meeting and one rule only. The rule is that nobody speaks unless spoken to. Now then, Charlie, as I usually find you to be the most elequently spoken out of all you, which isn’t saying much, I want you to tell me the story of what happened. The first person to interrupt him will be suspended without pay for a fortnight. Charlie, if I ever find out you’ve lied to me about a single word you’re about to say, I will hand you the same punishment. Now please begin”.

“Well” he began, swallowing fresh air in a bid to compose himself. “We all went to this strip club called Heavenly Hatters. At some point during the night, Keith went for this private dance with a girl called Stacy. The rest of us were just mooching around here and there, drinking and watching the main stage. He came back to us without Stacy, but later on she came up to him again and she started drinking with us. I think she was off duty by this point”.

Keith opened his mouth to add something but then quickly closed it again. Charlie looked at him for a moment and then continued.

“Anyway, at some point after that, another girl joined Stacy. This one was called Leanne. I think she was also a stripper at the club but I can’t remember whether she’d been working that night or whether she was just stopping by. Anyway, by the time we left the place, everyone was sloshed but we all moved on to this hotel. Except Richard Owusu – he went home”.

“So there were four of you?” I interrupted. “There were four of you guys, and just two girls? I’m presuming the intention was to get laid with said girls even before you got to the hotel?”

“Yeah but I can’t remember anybody....being..with..any particular girl before we got there. I think it was just a case of grabbing a couple of rooms and seeing who got lucky once we got there”.

“Classy” I said. “So what happened when you did get there?”

It took a while for Charlie to answer this one. However I didn’t necessarily believe this to be a sign of guilt. I think he was probably just embarrassed to be talking to his manager about sex.

“We all went in one bedroom and started messing around. Keith and the girl called Leanne started getting frisky in the corner, even though he’d started off with Stacy at the beginning of the night. The rest of us hung around Stacy on the bed. She was a real tease, and after a while she started stripping off for us when we asked her to. Then Keith and Leanne went in the other room to have sex and that’s the last I saw of him and her, even though we could hear them for a while”.

“So what happened with the rest of you and Stacy?”

“We all.....”.

He paused, and I could see a hint of sweat on his forehead.

“Go on”.

“We all.....took turns....having sex with her. It was completely consensual though. She was completely wide awake and even egging us on, encouraging us. I swear to God there was nothing dodgy about it”.

“So let me get this straight - she just lay there whilst the four...sorry, three of you minus Keith, took turns to give her a good seeing to?”

“Yeah, oh, except Danny. He was...too drunk....to manage it”.

“Hey f__k you!” said Cadamateri, standing up and looking menacingly down at Charlie.

“Danny, shut the f__k up and sit down!” I said. “You should be grateful. If you didn’t shag her then you’re most likely the best positioned out of the four of you”.

My striker sat down, reluctantly. He had a real glare on his face though. It reminded me of a highly charged Rafael Nadal for some reason.

“What happened after the sex?” I asked.

“Everybody just kind of crashed out for the night. When we woke up in the morning, the girls had gone. That was the last we saw of them”.

“I saw them leave” said Richie.

“When? In the morning?”

“I think so. I was too tired and hungover to lift my head up though. I could hear them muttering and getting dressed to go, but that was it. I fell asleep again a few minutes later”.

“Why do you think it is they’ve accused you all of rape?”

“Because they’re ashamed of what they did, maybe? They might just want to get famous for sleeping with footballers. I don’t know. Like Charlie said though, it was all consenual. There was no crime”.

I stood up and walked to the window again. Fred was nowhere to be seen, but I didn’t think I was lucky enough today for that Rage apocolypse to have turned up.

“You guys are unbelievable” I said after a minute or so. “I can't help you with this though. My involvement will have to be nil from this point going forward. You'll just have to hope the police believe you and drop the case. You know, I really didn't need this. We had so much going for us this season. We’ve got four points from a possible six, a capable squad, and then you four go and pull this s__t. My guess is that you probably are innocent, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to get endless s__t thrown at us over it”.

“I know boss” said Keith. “We’re sorry”.

“You might want to save that for Nicky” I replied, returning to the desk. “Now get the f__k out of here, all of you. You’ll still play tomorrow, if you’re picked. I want full focus though, and I don’t want to hear a word of this discussed in front of the other players. Do I make myself clear?”

Charlie and Richie nodded their head. Danny and Keith though merely looked down at the floor and scowled. Tossers.

“Good. Now get lost”.

The four of them plodded out and I was left to reflect. Sadly though my opinion wasn’t much different than it had been prior to the meeting. I still didn’t know if they were innocent or not and I had the funniest of feelings I was never going to find out either.

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Next - Luton (7th) v Rushden and Diamonds (1st).

[salkster2102]

4 points from six games? That doesn't sound good to me But even with that little mistake this story is still great. KUTGW

[ScottleeSV]

Ha! I've made the edit now Salk. Cheers for spotting that

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15/08/09, League Match 3

Luton Town v Rushden and Diamonds

GK – Dean Brill

DL – Charlie Daniels

DR – Claude Gnakpa

DC – Tony James

DC – George Pilkington

DMC – Kevin Nicholls

MC – Keith Keane

ML – Matthew Gill

MR – Michael Taylor

FC – Jamie Guy

FC – Scott Spencer

Despite the win against Oxford, I made four changes for this crucial match against promotion favourites Rushden and Diamonds. I’ll work my way back from the forward line here and you’ll see why in a moment. First to go was the injured Michael Bridges, who joined the disgraced (and, depending on who you talk to, impotent) Danny Cadamateri on the injury list. Quite frankly however, I would have brought Scott Spencer into the starting eleven anyway after his brace at the Kassam.

If you’re wondering, I decided not to let the week’s events influence my team selection. I justify this with the old adage – innocent until proven guilty. That said, I still made one change to the midfield which wasn’t forced. Neither Easton nor Daniels had done enough on the left wing for my liking, so Brian and I cooked up an unlikely idea. We decided to experiment with bringing in Matthew Gill on the left side of midfield, the intention being to play very narrow. That might sound risky but I felt I had to mix things up a little; we hadn’t played well for our four points so far and that was a fact.

In defence I removed Richie Byrne and stuck Charlie Daniels back there, if only to see how Daniels would do in his natural position. I also swopped McCracken with Tony James. Rushden turned up with what on the surface looked like a very attacking 4.2.3.2 formation. They had won two out of two going into this game and were probably confident of getting at least a draw or better. As the players lined up for kick-off I briefly wondered if part of their plan was to literally blind us to death in the first five minutes. Their away day yellow kit is awfully bright.

For the stat geeks, Rushden were one of the first teams I played back when I first joined Luton. We travelled up to Nene Park for a friendly just prior to the 2008/2009 campaign. We lost 0-1 at the time, which considering we were in League 2 was a pretty poor result. The Northamptionshire based side are no mugs at this level. They once climbed as high as League One only to plummet back down again almost as fast as they had risen. The consensus is though they might be ready to start going the other way once more. We shall see.

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With most of my team clearly still on a high from Tuesday night, we roared into a fast paced start. Gill and Guy swapped a neat one-two near the left wing as early as the 4th minute, and I was intrigued to see what the cross would be like given how predominantly right footed he is. It was slow but accurate. It landed perfectly on the forehead of the incoming Claude Gnakpa, who headed one towards the far corner only to see the keeper get across to make the save.

On we pressed though. In the 8th and 9th minutes we forced a succession of corners. Gill, in the thick of the action early on, went to take our third one. He floated it in and it landed square on the head of Spencer, who in a completely unmarked position managed to power it firmly into the net at shoulder height. Goal! He’d done it again! I don’t know where the marking was but I didn’t care. We were off to a fantastic start!

After the dismay of our performance against Woking the previous Saturday, the Kenilworth Road crowd were now firmly in our corner again (the Oxford win had helped, of course). In the next few minutes they sang and chanted and urged us forward to try and double our lead whilst the iron was hot. In obliging them however, we almost left ourselves exposed at the back. In the 15th minute Phillips went through on goal after a long punt downfield and hammered one just over. That was a warning shot and no mistake!

With three goals to his name in less than ninety minutes of wearing a Hatters shirt, Spencer was full of confidence. Halfway through the half though he suffered his first big miss; Taylor pulled the ball back from the by-line and Scotty boy could only sweep a tame effort with the side of his foot into the goalkeeper’s chest. Still, we’ll let him off for that I think.

Three minutes later we almost scored from another corner, Taylor crossing one to the back stick and Pilkington forcing a point blank save out of the keeper. The ball rebounded down into a jungle of players and was eventually scrambled away. A quiet period followed this, as we calmed down to catch breath and Rushden desperately tried to figure out how to stifle our dominant midfield.

With 42 minutes on the clock, Burgess and Nicholls tangled fiercely in the centre circle. The former came out on top and raced towards our penalty area with the ball. He fed it into the path of Phillips who returned the ball to Burgess with just one touch. This sent Burgess through on goal in an even better position than Phillips himself had been in earlier. I thought he had to score but he smashed it low and wide. Thank god.

I was just starting to prepare my half time speech when Nicholls and Burgess once again clashed in first half stoppage time. As if insulted by what had happened the first time around, Nicholls won the battle this time and prodded it forward to Guy. The striker then laid it back to Keane who sent a wonderful curling ball out to Taylor on the far right. Taylor then looked up briefly before sending in a beautiful cross which landed at the feet of Guy – six yards out – unmarked. He slid it low into the net and then ran in front of the home fans slapping hand after hand. Get in!

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Half time – Luton 2 Rushden 0

Martin mood’o’meter – cautiously optimistic of three points.

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We didn’t deserve to be two goals ahead but I was happy to take it. As much as they didn’t want to listen, I spent the entire half time interval reminding the players about all the times last season we had gone two goals clear only to needlessly squander it. All I could do was hope they had taken it onboard. They certainly needed no further encouragement from the crowd, who gave them a rousing reception as they ran out for the second half to the now very ear-grating “Things can only get better”. I mean Jesus, give it up already!

Rushden and Diamonds didn’t come into this game with two wins for nothing. They came at us with everything they had in the second half. Their attacking play in the first half had seemed tentative, almost timid even. That wasn’t the case now. In the 48th minute they won a corner on the near side. They took it short and Burgess played another one-two with Phillips to give himself a shooting chance from a slight angle. We’d fallen asleep here but Burgess fired it over.

Yellow shirts were suddenly buzzing everywhere, weaving pretty patterns like in the old Texas song (I mean the Sharleen Spiteri band, not the American state). After 57 minutes, just as I was warming my substitutes up, the visitors launched an audacious attack right through the centre of the park. Wolleston fed it to Tomlin who then slid it in to Mcdonald. The guy was clean through, but with Pilkington snapping at his heels, he fired it over. Brill bore a look in the aftermath as if to say – “At some point today I might have to make a save”.

Our opponents didn’t take heed. Just past the hour mark, Mcdonald fired a free kick over from twenty five yards out. At least they were having a go. By contrast, we looked spent as an attacking force. I sent Niven on for Keane and Buckley for Taylor at this point, if only to freshen things up a little. It didn’t change our attacking fortunes but it did send the game into a welcome lull. Rushden didn’t shoot again until the 75th minute, Phillips lobbing one over from long range after dispossessing James.

“Time for the nervy final fifteen” I said to Brian.

“We’re going to be alright” he reassured me. “They’re starting to look out of ideas now”.

Famous last words! Rushden won another free kick with nine minutes left, and substitute Sagi Burton this time finally forced Brill into a save. To waste some time I took Spencer off for Quinn. However, this seemed to cause some momentary confusion in the ranks. Just as Quinn was jogging on, the visitors swung in a corner and Phillips arose unmarked to head one against the post. The ball bounced harmlessly away and it was at that moment I knew we’d definitely won.

A difficult week had produced a welcome finale.

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FINAL SCORE (Att - 4463)

Luton Town 2 (Spencer 10, Guy 45+3)

Rushden and Diamonds 0

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(other results)

Cambridge 3-0 Tamworth

Crawley 2-3 Stevenage

Ebbsfleet 0-0 Histon

Grays 3-1 Droylsden

Kidderminster 0-3 Oxford

Macclesfield 0-3 Weymouth

Mansfield 2-1 Woking

Northwich 1-0 Kettering

Salisbury 0-1 AFC Wimbledon

St Albans 0-3 Burton

York City 0-0 Forest Green

(top of the table)

1 - AFC Wimbledon (7)

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2 - Cambridge Utd (7)

3 - Weymouth (7)

4 - Luton Town (7)

5 - Mansfield Town (7)

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6 - Rushden and Diamonds (6)

7 - Grays Athletic (6)

8 - York City (5)

[ScottleeSV]

16/08/09 - On the QT and very hush hush

I was cooking my usual Sunday morning fry-up when the buzzer in the hallway sounded out. Someone was at the door.

“Yeah?” I called the down the intercom, the sizzling of bacon cutting a joyous sound in the background.

“It’s Brian”.

“Okay. Come up mate”.

I went back into the kitchen and a couple of minutes later Brian joined me. He had a newspaper tucked under his arm and that’s when I realised why he was here. My good old assistant manager has developed a long-standing habit now of finding articles about Luton in the non-league paper and then showing them to me over our Sunday pint. The fact he had come to my flat today instead of wait for me down the pub suggested he had more in store than the latest transfer rumour doing the rounds.

“Gosh” I remarked, turning an egg over. “You must have something good, making this big a detour on your way to The Hatters Arms. Let me guess, a major G-14 club is sniffing around after me?”

“Sadly not”.

“Okay, then there’s a new rumour going around about a possible replacement for me? And this time it’s a serious guess”.

“No it’s about the incident at the hotel. The News of the World have found out and they’ve written an article about it. They don’t mention any names though, which is good”.

I flipped my sausages over and then tended some more to the bacon. I wasn’t horrified (or even surprised) at Brian’s tidings. This had been inevitable as far as I was concerned.

“Relax, Karl” I said, doing my best Hans Gruber impression from Die Hard. “Action from the FBI was inevitable, and as it happens, necessary”.

“Eh?”

“Never mind. Do you want some of this?” I asked, indicating the food. “I made plenty”.

“Nah, better not. I quit that eating stuff four years ago. Do you want to read the article or not?”

“Let me just put all this on a plate. Go and wait in the living room a minute. And watch you don’t sit on Bambi – she’s the same colour as the cushions”.

As Brian turned on his heels, I switched the oven off and poured myself an orange juice. Then I started putting all my cooked materials onto the plate – bacon, eggs, mushrooms, sausages, and fried tomatos. Yummy yum. Once I was reunited with Brian, I set the plate on my knee and took the paper from him. Sky Sports News was still on in the background. I left my guest absorbed in that and slowly began to read what was written.

Luton Town players accused of gang rape : football's latest scandal revealed

As much as everybody involved in the sport has so far been hesitant to comment, football’s image was once again smacked around the face with a wet fish yesterday. It was discovered by News of the World reporters before going to press that four players from Luton Town Football Club have been questioned over an alleged gang rape incident. The shocking revelations are certain to cast a huge cloud over the Bedfordshire club, as well as cause a major headache within the walls of the Football Association at large.

For legal reasons we cannot at this time print the names of the players involved. However, the two accusers in the case were said last night to still be in a state of shock over their ordeal, even four days after the event. A mutual friend of theirs related to us how the girl’s attackers...

- Befriended their victims at the town’s local strip club.

- Bullied them into accepting a nightcap at a hotel where they then plied them with booze.

- Brutally took it into turns to rape them as they lay in a state of semi-unconsciousness.

Although the facts of the case are far from established, many casual observers have already pledged their loyalty to the prosecution. A porter in the hotel witnessed the group checking in just prior to the incident taking place..

“I didn’t know they were footballers but they were definitely hammered. One of them got his codger out near the elevator and started waving it around like a tiny hosepipe, only with nothing coming out of it. The two girls looked very embarrassed and uncomfortable”.

A statment has also been made from a local taxi driver who saw the girls emerge from the hotel the following morning..

“I remember these girls because they looked terrified when they came out of the lobby. There was nobody else on the street at the time, so I was tempted to ask if they needed a ride anywhere. They turned left up the street though before I could wind my window down, and after that I lost sight of them. They definitely looked freaked out about something though”.

Officially Luton Town Football Club have so far refused to comment on the allegations, although News of the World understands they are seeking an injunction to bar the release of the players’ identities. We did however briefly manage to extract comment from the club’s acting chairman, Mr Robert Wharton, who we caught up with outside KFC.

“I can’t say much I’m afraid. It’s the club’s belief though the allegations are too far-fetched to be believed. We will fully support our players’ innocence until a court can prove otherwise”.

The case continues

Above the writing was a small picture of what I presumed was The Royal Hotel. I put the paper aside and turned my attentions to Bambi, now sat in front of me pawing my leg for some food. I chucked her a small piece of egg.

“It’s not an article of any great conviction is it?” I piped up. “They’ve run around gathering some quotes but you can tell they’ve only just scratched the surface of the whole thing. The article reads like something they only cobbled together just before the deadline”.

“True, but now the incident is on their radar they’ll be keen to do follow-up reports as often as they can, and knowing newspapers, their intention will be for each piece to be even juicer than the last. It’ll drive them crazy though if we win the injunction against the names coming out”.

“I’m not so sure about that. Something like this happened years ago, I’m sure it did. I think Micah Richards might have been involved, maybe Kieron Dyer too. I can’t remember. Anyway, back then the names were all over the papers for weeks on end. The girls they’d shagged though never even got close to getting a conviction”.

“Do you really think those guys were guilty though?”

“Probably not. That’s not the point though. The point is, regardless of whether they’re guilty or not, it can often help the defence if the identities are revealed beforehand. Then it can be claimed the trial wouldn’t be fair if it went ahead because the jury would have been influence by the negative publicity”.

“Maybe. If it was me though I’d still rather my name didn’t come out. I’d rather take my chances with a fair trial”.

I’d almost finished my fry-up already. I took a couple of bites of my second sausage and washed it down with some milk. Bambi was angling for another tidbit. She would have to wait though. In the background, Sky Sports News was reporting on the latest happenings from the PGA golf Tour.

“I’m fairly relaxed about this whole thing now anyway” I continued. “I’ve thought about how I’d feel if the unbelievable happened, and they were all sent to prison. From a team point of view, it wouldn’t be that bad. The squad’s big enough to survive without four players until I could get some replacements in. Cadamateri and Byrne didn’t even start against Rushden. As for Keane, I wouldn’t say no to ridding his £1400 per week from the wage bill. It's not like he ever performs".

“He’s the one with that Nicky isn’t he? What does she make of it all?”

I paused to chew my final bite and then put the plate on the floor for Bambi to lick, which she did with gusto.

“She doesn’t know, and I doubt this article will reach her either. Keane’s on borrowed time though if he’s hoping to hide this whole thing from her. Even if the case gets dropped without a trial, the newspapers will surely then be able to release the names of the players in order to apologise – at least I imagine they would. I don’t know”.

“I thought you used to do law, young man?”

“My firm specialised in personal injury road traffic accidents. Funnily enough, not that many car crashes occur as the result of a rape-in-progress”.

“Fair enough”.

"Anyway" I said. "Enough about this hotel s__t. Anything in there about yesterday's game?"

"Errr yeah" Brian replied, taking the paper and flicking to the appropriate page. Hang on, I'll read it out.

There was also a good win for Luton Town, 2-0 victors over Rushden and Diamonds

"Awesome" I said, rather flatly. "Good to see we're finally getting the national credit we deserve".

[ScottleeSV]

18/08/09 - Histon and Impington

The two aforementioned villages are home to Histon Football Club in Cambridgeshire. The reason Impington sneaks a mention there is because apparently many of the locals no longer know where Histon ends and Impington begins. No matter - that’s where we’ll be playing tonight anyway. Despite both places having a combined population of less than 10000, Histon have enjoyed a meteoric rise up the non-league pyramid in recent years.

Ten years ago the club were literally just a local village team playing in Step 9, and if you’re wanting an explanation as to what that means then you’re reading the wrong book. In 2000 though, ‘The Stutes’ as they’re known, won promotion to the Southern Football League, and it’s been one miracle after another ever since. Between 2003 and 2007, Histon achieved three promotions in four seasons to wind up in the Blue Square Premier Division. If you’d suggested that might happen to the club back in 1999 you would probably have been labelled the village idiot.

The ambition hasn’t ended there either. Histon have so far achieved three top ten finishes in a row since arriving amongst the non-league elite, including one unsuccessful flourish into the playoffs. They’ve also done the necessary work on their Bridge Road ground so that, should they get another promotion, the football league will accept them. What a story that would be if ever came to providence!

With kick-off not until 7.45pm, I was allowed plenty of time in the build-up today to do something touristy. Shame then neither Histon nor Impington has much to see and do. The only ‘attraction’ I could find online was a rather unimpressive looking thing known as the Impington windmill, and I couldn’t really be bothered hunting that down.

I was tempted instead to stop off in nearby Cambridge, a place which would no doubt have plenty to keep me occupied. In the end I figured that would be a bit of a cheat, especially as I’m already pencilled in to visit Cambridge at some point this season. Nope, if Histon had no museum or anything (or even a Disneyworld) then I guessed the next best thing would be to find a nice quiet pub in the village somewhere and enjoy an afternoon meal. I can’t have this book somehow getting famous in the future and then loads of Histon fans jumping on my back for ignoring their community.

The pub I ended up in was called The Barley Mow, and proved more than suitable for a relaxing lounge around eating, drinking, and typing the occasional word on my laptop. It was in this serene environment I picked my team for the match. As you might expect I haven’t tinkered with the line-up too much seeing as we’ve won the last two games. I have however been forced into two changes due to players being unfit. This is already our fourth game in eleven games to start the campaign, and that kind of scheduling can take its toll.

Out for a rest then go Gill and Spencer, the latter’s exclusion being something of a mild body blow. He’s been such a revelation so far this season though that I don’t want to wear him out too quickly, especially in a game I think we’re capable of winning without him. In his place goes Will Bradley, who is just as much a natural striker as he is a winger. He will partner Jamie Guy tonight with Spencer warming the bench in case we need him.

Derek Niven is the man I’m entrusting to replace Gill, so I hope he grabs his chance with both hands. On a related subject, Darren called me up before. He was driving to the match with some mates and wanted some inside information on who’s going to be playing and who’s not etc. Whilst on the phone, he offered me the opinion that Histon will be easier to play tonight (as opposed to later in the season) because their pitch will still be in good nick. Darren reckons Histon are just the sort of team who might end up playing on a bog come January and February. Not sure about that one, to be frank.

Also whilst in the pub, I got a text from Brenda. Apparently Cyril was asking for me just after lunchtime with the complaint that Albie has been lobbing eggs at Cyril and Lee’s port-a-cabin. Thankfully she didn’t give him my phone number. I can’t help wondering if Albie’s violent turn has something to do with the anti Star Trek poster I saw blue-tacked to the souvenir shop door as I was leaving the office yesterday. Seriously, what kind of reaction did Cyril expect?

I must finish this afternoon on a sad note (it’s already the early evening now as I type, but no matter). For the second away trip in a row today, the first being Oxford seven days ago, I felt distinctly lonely. Partly I know that’s because Cassie isn’t randomly turning up anymore, and would she have gone to that silly windmill today had this been last season? Probably. Mostly though, I think I’m finally beginning to yearn for something more than this ‘one man and his dog’ lifestyle I seem to have got myself into lately

I could talk all day as to reasons why I think this is. In a nutshell though, I’m simply ready to meet women again. It’s been a long time since the Charlotte fiasco now, certainly long enough for me to feel like maybe it isn’t so important anymore. No, it DEFINITELY isn’t so important anymore. I have to be decisive when writing the words down on the page – that’s important for me, I think. All that stuff is over though. I should have realised it when that thing happened with Paula across the ocean.

Anyway, me feeling good about myself again won’t last for long if Luton’s league season takes a turn for the worst. Just maybe – just maybe though, if we can carry on winning, even just a few more games, maybe I won’t feel so inhibited about expending some energy on other parts of my life. Maybe that’s the key.

On the other hand, maybe the pre-match nerves are making me ramble a little bit?

Time to turn this damn thing off and hit the dressing room.

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

Next - Histon v Luton

[ScottleeSV]

18/08/09, League Match 4

Histon v Luton Town

GK – Dean Brill

DL – Charlie Daniels

DR – Claude Gnakpa

DC – Tony James

DC – George Pilkington

DMC – Kevin Nicholls

MC – Keith Keane

ML – Derek Niven

MR – Michael Taylor

FC – Will Buckley

FC – Jamie Guy

The sun was shining warmly in the early summer’s evening, and the pitch was lush. Histon kicked off in their red home kit and we prepared to receive them in our usual white. The first five or six minutes, once we’d got the ball off them of course, was all Luton. We passed it around confidently and kept the village team pegged in their own half. Not that any noteworthy chances came our way in the opening spell. We were like a drab opening batsman on a flat wicket – comfortable but not making any great shakes to score heavily.

We almost paid the price in the 8th minute. Histon broke away through Andrews in the centre circle and he angled a delicious ball out wide to Barker. From here, Barker curled the ball in quickly only to see it softly headed away by James. The ball landed at the oncoming Oyenbanjo, who hit his shot just wide of Brill’s post. At the moment he struck it I thought it was in.

We responded in kind, Nicholls taking hold of the ball in centre midfield before jinking this way and that looking for a pass out wide. He didn’t find one he fancied so elected instead to shimmy his way closer to the Histon penalty area. When Patrick Ada decided he’d had enough of this and stormed towards Nicholls with intent, my skipper released the ball just in time to Buckley on the edge of the area. There was nothing on here but in the blink of an eye my stand-in striker spun on the spot and hammered a right foot shot into the top corner of the net.

Such was the surprise around the ground there was almost a noticable delay between the goal and the roar of the away fans to celebrate it. It reminded me of the time I saw Belgium v Sweden on Eurosport, and the commentary for the entire match was about five seconds behind the actual footage. This experience though was much less infuriating. After his strike Buckley was mobbed by his teammates and then trotted gamely back upfield for the resumption. Good lad.

The home team were shellshocked by the goal and didn’t wake up for at least another five minutes. In this grace period Buckley almost made it two, lofting a thirty yard shot just over the bar after being fed in by Keane.

We were brought back to reality though in the 16th minute, Histon winning a free kick and Andrews firing it just over the crossbar. A minute later they conjured a much better chance. Barker ran down the left with the ball, and despite close attentions from Gnakpa and Pilkington, unleashed a fierce cross shot which flew like a rocket just wide of the far post.

Back came Luton, breaking away in the 19th minute through Keane, who seemed to be having one of his better games. Maybe he wanted to impress me in light of his recent Heavenly Hatters antics? Who knew. Anyway, he chipped one over the top for Buckley to chase and suddenly he was through on goal. I secretly backed him to score here, but in the best traditions of Brian Moore circa world cup 98, such blind faith proved misguided; Buckley hit a firm shot which the keeper managed to parry away.

Never the less, we were gaining control over the game now. Histon didn’t muster anything of note for quite some time. When a chance did materialise, more often than not it went to us. After 27 minutes Jamie Guy finally stepped out from Buckley’s shadow for a minute, latching onto a Brill punt and using his pace to take on the entire home defence. Mitchell-King scythed him down and everyone in the ground with Hatters loyalty screamed skullduggery. The referee though only booked him, and Keane wasted the resulting free kick. Would that be a big moment in the game?

The gaps between notable efforts on goal started to get longer. That however suited me fine. We were winning, and 1-0 would do just fine if that's how it stayed. Nightingale hammered one over from long range just past the half hour mark but I’m hardly likely to count that as a chance. Incidentally, it was a lower crowd tonight than what we were used to but those who had travelled to support us were in full voice.

After 41 minutes Daniels showed his versatility by scorching down the left wing like Dangermouse. His cross was an outswinger and the keeper couldn’t get to it. Neither could anyone else – it went past everybody and into the posession of Michael Taylor over on the right. Taylor crossed it in low but too close to the goalkeeper. But wait! The keeper spilled it! Guy and Ada scrambled to reach it first but the outcome was a dead heat, and the ball bobbled back into the goalkeeper’s arms.

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

Half time - Histon 0 Luton 1

Martin mood'o'meter - Happy enough

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

Histon came out fighting in the second half. They tried to push us back from the off, and they were noticably quicker in both the pass and the tackle. I’d warned my boys at half time this might happen, but even so, Daniels was booked in the 49th minute as we started to feel the pressure.

A minute later we broke away and Taylor won a free kick down the other end, much to the delight of the away fans behind that goal. Nicholls chipped the free kick in and Guy headed it just wide of the post. Argh! He was only a yard out when he headed that! Granted he was under pressure from a defender but still.

The game slowly began to turn in our favour once again. The home side were spending a lot of time in our half but they weren’t creating much in the final third. We on the other suddenly became adept at breaking away on the counter attack. Indeed it was this exact scenario which presented itself in the 56th minute, and both Buckley and Guy almost ended up fighting over who would carry the ball forwards when it broke loose. Eventually it was Buckley who assumed control, and after sneaking through on goal (admittedly with attentions from either side of him), his eventual shot was pushed away by the keeper.

With 62 minutes on the clock I took Nicholls off for McCracken and Taylor for Cadamateri. As a result of this change, Buckley switched to right wing and the entire team went 5.3.2 in order to protect the lead. I didn’t need four in midfield anymore. The game had drifted into a pattern of Histon holding posession in our half and then someone from our team hoofing it up to the attackers once we got it off them.

Two minutes later the switch almost paid off big time. McCracken and Daniels swopped passes high up on the left wing before the defender rolled it across the edge of the penalty area for Keane. The disgraced sex addict though could only send a tame effort into the keeper’s arms. Not long after that, Cadamateri hobbled off and I had to bring Spencer on (despite me wanting to rest him). Yes, a substitute was replacing a substitute. Disappointing from Cadamateri really.

With 19 minutes left, Histon created their best chance since the opening ten minutes of the match. The impressive Barker fed Andrews who then slid Beardsley in. The attacker was in on Brill here but fired over under immense scrutiny from Pilkington. That was too close for comfort. Immediately afterwards Brian and I were out of our technical area shouting obscenities at the boys for switching off. I did NOT want to blow this lead after being the better team for so long.

Credit to my men – they responded. Buckley sprinted down the right wing two minutes later, and after holding the ball up for everyone else to catch up with him, he curled an outswinging ball into the box. It was headed away by somebody in red but only as far as Niven on the edge of the area. Could he make the game safe from here? No. The shot was just wide. Disappointing.

The next time I checked my watch there was only ten minutes left. When I looked up, Antonio Murray and Barker were swopping passes on the edge of our penalty area. Pilkington got a foot in and stabbed it away as far as Beardsley, who chipped it over the top of our backline. Murray got on the end of it from a tight angle and hit a low shot. Brill saved it well, but the ball went out to Knight-Percival from a more favourable angle this time. Knight-Percival rammed it into the far corner. F__k off.

As the crowd went wild all around the side of the advertising hoardings, half a dozen or so red shirts streamed into a mass huddle to the side of the goal. My players looked at each other guiltily and then wandered back to the centre circle.

“Come on, pick it up! Ten to play!” I shouted, trying to encourage rather than panic.

The Cambridgeshire side though smelled blood. They were suddenly pouring forward as if there was no tomorrow, smelling an unlikely winner. Our defence though were still comfortable, and continued to fend off attacks with ease as if nothing had happened. Histon had produced two good chances so far in this half and scored one of them; I suppose that’s all you need.

After 86 minutes we broke away, and now it was me smelling blood, or to be precise, Charlie Daniels. The youngster swopped a one-two with Keane and then surged towards the byline. His attempted cross was deflected behind for a corner. The Luton fans rose behind the goal, their voices suddenly very loud, begging us for a late winner. The corner though was headed away.

Only as far as Nicholls. He fed it to McCracken who hammered it straight upfield to Keane. My midfielder jinked to his left and fed Spencer, who without even thinking about it slid a sliderule pass into Buckley. He was in on goal! A chance to win it! Could he beat the keeper this time? Was I about to witness another Oxford? Was Buckley about to be a hero? Did I feel lucky, punk? No. Buckley’s shot was well saved by the keeper’s legs, and it bobbled tamely away

There were no further chances.

---------

FINAL SCORE (Att - 748)

Histon 1 (Knight-Percival 81)

Luton Town 1 (Buckley 10)

---------

(other results)

Wimbledon 1-0 Grays

Burton 2-4 Crawley

Droylsden 2-1 York

Forest Green 2-1 Cambridge

Kettering 3-1 Macclesfield

Oxford 0-1 Mansfield

Rushden 2-1 Kidderminster

Stevenage 1-1 Ebbsfleet

Tamworth 1-2 St Albans

Weymouth 2-2 Salisbury

Woking 0-1 Northwich

(top of table)

1 - AFC Wimbledon (10)

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

2 - Mansfield Town (10)

3 - Rushden and Diamonds (9)

4 - Weymouth (8)

5 - Luton Town (8)

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

6 - Cambridge United (7)

7 - Northwich Vics (7)

8 - Stevenage Borough (6)

9 - Crawley Town (6)

10 - Grays Athletic (6)

[ScottleeSV]

21/08/09 - Twin attack

The press had been bombarding our phone lines for days, all trying to getting a scoop on the Royal Hotel scandal. Or would that be ‘Heavenly Hatters Scandal’? Everybody had a different opinion. The wishes of the media though were finally granted the day before our big home match against Stevenage Borough, when Bob Wharton finally sanctioned the press conference Paul Leonard had warned me might be coming. I wasn’t worried though. All I had to do was keep my gob shut and be evasive.

“James” said Andy Branston from the Hertfordshire Herald, opening the batting as he always did. “A disappointing result on Tuesday night. What are your thoughts?”

I’d almost forgotten I might have to answer questions about the Histon match as well. Bob had cancelled the after-match press conference on Wednesday because he figured the club could kill two birds with one stone by having the Histon and Royal Hotel inquests all rolled into one long press conference. Makes sense, I suppose. One intense grilling is better than two.

“I’m not too downhearted” I replied. “We should have won the game but in the overall scheme of things, eight points from four games is a decent start”.

“With Luton’s calibre of players? Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely. The fact we’re still unbeaten and in contention, despite hitting nowhere near our best form yet, can only bode well for when we do hit form”.

“Obviously it’s been a tough week with all the rape allegations surely taking their toll. What’s your opinion on the whole affair?”

“I don’t have anything to say on the subject really. My job is to run the football team, not police the outside world, so to speak. Until someone tells me that my players are definitively guilty of something, I will continue to make the best use of their services as I possibly can. I’m a great believer in innocent until proven guilty”.

Branston paused but remained standing, and I sensed he was searching for a ‘complication’ question, something which might get something more controversial out of me. He’d dithered so far though, on the whole, and Victoria Thornton sensed it. She seized the moment and arose without permission.

“James, rape is one of the toughest crimes in the country when it comes to proving guilt. Do you not think that your attitude, which effectively amounts to a plea of ‘show me the evidence or I won’t believe it’, is demeaning to the would-be victims? Do you not think this kind of stance can only discourage genuine victims from coming forward in case they get treated with suspicion for not having an instant water-tight case?”

“Look, I have a job to do. I have to assume these guys are innocent because it’s the fair thing to do. If I drop them from the team, and later down the line they’re all exonerated, I can’t retrospectively demand rematches with all the teams who have whipped us in the interim. Luton will be screwed for this season and so will I. The subject of how rape victims are treated in society at large is not for me to delve into. I’m a football manager, not a sociologist or a politician”.

Brian was kicking me gently under the table. I could only interpret this as a warning not to get so deep into this conversation that I couldn’t get myself out of it. In the meantime, Thornton plodded on, enjoying the thrill of the chase.

“But if these players of yours, players under your management, are eventually proven to be guilty, and you stood by them, how will you feel then?”

“Then I’ll feel let down by them, but I don’t think it will make any difference to anything. If the allegations are proven to be true, and the players in question are sent to prison, I don’t think the victims will be too concerned that their attackers were allowed to play a few games of football prior to getting their just desserts. Would you?”

“In such an event though, wouldn’t you feel the league points you acquired during that period would be a little bit... stained?”

“Not at all. In this society people are free until the day they’re proven by a court of law to be undeserving of that freedom. I’m not going to say anything more on this subject. If the two alleged victims in this case are proven to have been telling the truth, and they feel it was insensitive of me to take this stance on matters of selection in the meantime, I will personally offer to meet and discuss the issue with them personally, maybe even apologise whilst I’m at it”.

“James” Brad Scowcroft shouted over the bubble of chatter suddenly ringing around the room. “Even if the Royal Hotel Four are innocent, do you not think their conduct is still wholly inappropriate?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, these four guys took two women to a hotel and effectively had themselves an orgy. Do you condone this type of pastime?”

“Well it’s not something I’d personally indulge myself in. I'm more of a traditional one-on-one man myself. If people want to have complicated sex lives though – within the boundaries of the law of course – then that’s their choice”.

Brad sat down and up stood Bill Tulip from The Bedfordshire Bulletin.

“Do you know the identities of The Royal Hotel four?”

“Of course I do, and so do all of you probably, so let’s not play games”.

-----------

The above is just a fragment of what I had to endure. The questions rumbled on for quite some time after the point I’ve chosen to end it on this page. Then the questions switched back to Histon and the fact we’re not ten points clear already. Then they switched back to matters of all things rape-related, before finally coming to a close on Histon again. By the time I got back to the office I was mentally shattered, and I still had tactical preparations to make for tomorrow’s game!

“Any chance of a coffee, Brenda?” I asked, flopping down in my chair.

“Just a minute” she replied, head bent over the photocopier. “This damn thing is playing up again”.

There was nobody else around except for Brenda. I could only presume my merry band of troops were on lunch break.

“I thought you were going to get somebody in to fix that thing?”

“I did – the other week. It cost a hefty fee though and the crux of the problem turned out to be nothing more complicated than a shirt button clogging up the machine. Waste of time calling somebody out if you ask me”.

“Hang on, let me get this straight -The guy found a shirt button inside the machine, and that’s what was wrong with it?”

“Yeah. God knows how it got there though, and I've got no idea what this latest problem is either".

My mind flashed back to the time Darren and Chantelle had romped on top of the copier. As far as I knew, nobody had known about that except me, Darren, and Nicky (and Chantelle of course). Despite the fact the incident had occurred a long time ago now, I couldn’t help wondering if that stray button might have been a bi-product of the romp in question.

“Brenda” I said, getting up and heading over to her. “Let me take a look at it. Will you get me a coffee? I could really do with one”.

“Of course” she said, making a move for the kitchen.

“Actually, will you nip out and get me a Starbucks one from the local? I’ll get you one back on my way into work on Monday if you like”.

“Sure. I’ll just grab my coat”.

Once she’d left I got down on my hands and knees and started opening up the various tiny compartments around the back and sides of a standard photocopier. I was no expert at this sort of thing; in fact I was unlikely to make a better stab at fixing it than Brenda could have done. Fixing it though wasn’t my primary goal. I had a hunch as to what the problem might be and wanted to see if I was right.

It took several minutes of reaching blindly inside all sorts of cogs and motherboard thingies, but eventually my hand wrapped itself around something which didn’t belong. When I pulled it out I saw it was a silver wrist chain, the type a girl would wear. If this had been inside the copier when the fixer had come around, surely he would have spotted this and extracted it?

‘Darren, have you been up to old tricks again?’

[dechardonay]

Actually, this is a good little bit, in terms of James' stance on innocent until proven guilty, especially with his legal background. His attitude reminds me of a lawyer I know, who feels exactly that way ie if not proven guilty by trial, then innocent, very logical down-the-line stance.

Still hate the wider story-arc, though

[FlownCanary]

You ought to be careful about Darren, or else he'll be accused next! On the whole though, your season seems to have started well, even if it is unspectacular.

Good luck with all those chuffin' press conferences!

[ScottleeSV]

I confess I didn't actually think of it that way, dechardonay. I just played it that way because most real life managers would probably do the same. I can't imagine that Fergie or Wenger, for instance, would drop four stars in the same situation.

Canary, Darren's really not one to stop and think about the wider picture before having sex

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

19/02/06 - One ring to bind us both

"So when's the big day?" my mum asked, presiding her over us.

"Not for another four years yet".

"Oh?"

"We don't want to get married straight away. We're going to wait until we're thirty - I mean until Charlotte's thirty - and only then are we going to do it, so plenty of time for you to shop around for a hat".

I grinned across the kitchen table at Charlotte and clutched her outstretched hand.

"Well, it's certainly great news anyway" my mum continued, crossing her arms and leaning back against the sink. "And I know your dad's pleased. I've never seen him rush off to the supermarket to get beer at that speed before. It's obvious he wants to celebrate".

"My parents were pleased too" Charlotte announced.

"Are you planning the honeymoon already?"

My mum asked this whilst pointing at the holiday brochure on the table. Me and Charlotte had been flicking through it for most of the past half hour.

"No, this is for a more....immediate holiday" I replied.

"Oh, the Summer trip you were telling me about on the phone? That's right. I've forgotten where it is you said you were going though"

"Belize. That's a separate thing to what we're looking at today though. Today we're looking for somewhere to go at Easter".

"You're having two holidays this year?"

"Errrr, yeah".

We actually had four holidays lined up, and that was just for starters. My work usually only granted an allowance of twenty three holidays days a year, but what I'd arranged for this year was to buy an extra five days. The cost of this was roughly twenty pounds a month and would come directly out of my salary every payday. In total then I had now twenty eight days to play around with.

"I'll tell you what though, I can't believe you got engaged five days ago and you're only telling me today".

"In the wider scope of a four year engagement though, five days isn't that much".

"Have you bought Charlotte an engagement ring yet?"

"No. I'm going to have to get around to that".

"I might be able to spare you the trouble actually. Hold on".

My mum looked like a lightbulb had just come on in her head. She scurried out of the kitchen without stopping to take her apron off, and disappeared upstairs.

"If I had to guess, I'd say she's about to dig an old heirloom out for you" I said, beginning to flick through the brochure pages again. "They've got tons of old stuff in the attic".

"Hey, I don't mind that. You know I love traditional things".

"Yeah well let's get on with picking this holiday out before she comes back. I don't want her seeing I'm going somewhere else expensive or she'll start asking questions eventually, and then I'll have to explain to her how you're funding 80% of the cash for all the trips. Then she'll ask how you've got so much money in the first place and I'll have to explain how you don't really work in a travel agents anymore".

"Relax, my newly betrothed! You're worrying over nothing".

"It's easy for you to say. She's not your mum".

"If you're that worried then hurry up and pick before she comes back. Otherwise we won't get another chance until tonight".

"I've already made my mind up" I said, nodding in the direction of the page.

Charlotte looked downwards and then at me, her expression suddenly aghast.

"The Niagara Falls? Are you kidding me?"

"No. It is my turn to pick isn't it?"

"I know it is but sorry I'm going to have veto that idea".

"What wrong with it?"

"It's just....dull. What are we going to do all week, boat around with a bunch of camera-clicking tourists and scour the gift shops? Yuck. I told you, I don't do those sorts of holidays. Not at this age anyway".

"Fine, I'll pick something else".

"You do that, and in the meantime I'll take this if you don't mind".

Before I could react she held the brochure down and tore out the page advertising Canada and it various attractions, Niagara Falls included.

"You're going to tear it up?" I enquired, observing her continuing to rip at the paper even after it was completely separated from the brochure.

"No, I'm going to make an origami giraffe out of it. I learnt how to do it in Thailand. We might as well do something useful with the Niagara Falls page because I can promise you now we're not going to need the phone numbers on it".

I felt like coming back with a wisecrack, but couldn't think of one to suit the moment. I settled instead to simply watch her work. She was very skilled at what she was doing; I could see that within about two seconds of her getting started.

"I had a boyfriend once who called me a wuss" she said, her fingers deftly twisting bits of paper this way and that. "Except, he said it in a really vicious context. He said it in a way that could justify me leaving him actually. So, that's what I did. I left him in the middle of the night. I got up, silently got dressed, and then I sneaked out towards the door whilst he slept. Before I left though I made him a piece of origami, in the shape of a lion.

"I kind of wanted it to symbolise that I wasn't a wuss and that I could actually be...I don't know...just as brave as him maybe. So, I made that lion - using one of his precious fitness magazines - and then I left it lying there on a kitchen table which probably didn't look all that different from this one. Then I walked out, never to be seen again".

As Charlotte finished her giraffe and propped it up by the side of the brochure, I sighed heavily and wondered what to say.

"I've got it" my mum said, suddenly reappearing in the doorway. "Take a look at this, Charlotte. This ring was my engagement ring when me and James' dad got married. It was also the same ring used when my mum got married to my dad. It's probably close to fifty years old now but it still looks good. What do you think?"

Charlotte took the ring from her and wasn't long in grinning.

"It's lovely!" she said. "Are you offering it to us?"

"Of course I am! Don't worry, I'll get it professionally cleaned for you first. It's still a bit mucky around the bottom bit. Hey, wait until I tell your grandmother, James! She'll be so pleased".

"Yeah she'll be chuffed and no mistake".

'With no ring to buy, that's £100 more I can put towards all the holidays' I thought, thinking practically.

When I next glanced at Charlotte, she was trying the ring on and looking completely and utterly thrilled.

And at the time, that made me very glad.

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

Next - Luton v Stevenage (league match 5)

[ScottleeSV]

22/08/09, League Match 5

Luton Town v Stevenage Borough

GK – Dean Brill

DL – George Beavon

DR – Claude Gnakpa

DC – George Pilkington

DC – Tony James

DMC – Kevin Nicholls

MC – Matthew Gill

ML – Charlie Daniels

MR – Michael Taylor

FC – Scott Spencer

FC – Jamie Guy

Half an hour before kick off I made the bold decision to leave Keith Keane out of the squad. The reason for this is because I caught him laughing and joking about The Royal Hotel incident and it just irritated me like you wouldn’t believe. Thus, out he went. He’s been on the cusp of being dropped anyway.

In his place I brought in Matthew Gill to partner Nicholls in midfield. I also pushed Charlie Daniels into a left wing position in place of Niven, the thinking being that I should be more attacking when playing at home. Up front Spencer returned in place of Buckley with Cadamateri and Bridges still sidelined through injury. I also brought George Beavon in for Byrne at left back purely to see how he’d do.

This match-up of Luton against Stevenage had been billed as a sleeping local rivalry just waiting to take off by Andy Branston in the The Hertfordshire Herald. Judging by the added excitement around the ground before kickoff, I could see why. Borough lined up with 4.4.2 and so did we. Kit-wise they were in their blue away kit and we in our white home strip.

The opening moments were cagey, very cagey. I attribute that to Stevenage’s tactics more than ours though. The away team literally started out doing nothing but passing the ball around the backline and wasting time. They weren’t making any effort to go forward whatsoever, and for a while I couldn’t work out whether I was glad of this or not. By contrast we were visibly trying to be adventurous but kept seeing our attacks break down early doors due to a combination of nerves and poor passing.

It took until the 13th minute for the game to liven up, and it only did so thanks to a moment of controversy. Kevin Nicholls was brutually hacked down by Oliver over on the far touchline and had to be helped off to the dressing room by the physio and an assisting subsitute. It was such a bad tackle it had the crowd screaming for a red card. Bizarrely though, the referee didn’t even produce a yellow. What the incident did achieve however was to galvanise us into action.

Ironically, it was substitute Derek Niven who set up the resulting chance. He lofted a ball over the top of the defence and Jamie Guy ran onto it with intent to go all the way. His pace kept him clear of his markers and he was soon able to advance on the keeper from a slight angle. The latter stood tall though and deflected Guy’s shot around the post for a corner. No goal, but in the shot column we were up and running.

Imagine my surprise then when the game proceeded to once again die a slow death. Stevenage remained deep in their defensive shells and we just couldn’t coax any chances out of them. It might have taken fifteen minutes for the first shot on goal but it took a whole twenty seven minutes extra before the next one. Even then it was only a free kick outside the box which Guy curled a yard wide.

When the half time whistle went, Stevenage trotted off to great cheers from their travelling contingent for a half of spoiling tactics well realised. Our fans on the other hand merely sat in silence not sure whether to boo or encourage. I knew I what I was going to do and that was ask for more effort. If nothing else we had to win this game to vindicate my decision to drop bighead Keane.

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

Half time - Luton 0 Stevenage 0

Martin mood'o'meter - Frustrated

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

To the credit of all the locals, they roared our lads back onto the pitch for the second period, a gesture I doubt would have materialised had this not been a local derby. Still, it was what it was and the crowd would soon be rewarded for their loyalty. In the 49th minute Niven carried the ball over the halfway line and fed Guy, thirty yards from goal. Guy spread the ball out to Taylor on the right wing and the excitement in the stadium slowly began to simmer over.

Taylor passed the ball inside to Gill, and as Taylor sprinted forward to take his own marker away from the action, Gnakpa came up from the right back position demanding the ball. Gill cleverly laid it off to him and Gnakpa then played it back to Taylor, now roaming as he was just outside the penalty area on the right. From here Taylor elected to chip the ball in rather than blast it, and when he did, Spencer got between two defenders to head it home from three yards out. Get in!

The crowd went beserk around the ground, the ectsasy doubly sweet because of the way Stevenage had tried to play for a goalless draw. Now though they would have to come and attack us. In fact the match was a whole new ball game. In keeping with his previous goal celebrations this season, Spencer ran adjacent to the fans and indulged as many handslapping requests as he could before suddenly being reigned in by a triple-whistle warning from the referee.

The away side didn’t prove that hot at going forward, even when they had to. By the time I made my second substitution in the 57th minute – Buckley for Taylor – Stevenage still hadn’t mustered a single attempt on goal. Was it really going to be this easy? No of course not. Football isn’t like that is it?

After 61 minutes the Stevenage keeper blindly launched one downfield. It was a long kick which completely cleared all the players and ran through to Brill. Striker Steve Morrison went after it but he was never going to get there. By the time Brill set himself to boot it back downfield, Morrison was still five yards away from him. The trouble came with the kick, which was a complete fresh air shot. It bounced past Brill and Morrison’s momentum took him past the keeper before he could recover.

This was now an easy open goal chance. 1-1 surely? No. On his left foot Morrison slipped and put it wide. How the crowd laughed. I’ve never seen a miss as bad as that. What it did do though was make our players nervous. We started to sit back after that and invite Morrison and company onto us. It was Steve himself who went on a jinking run towards our goal in the 76th minute, eventually curling one just over the top. Nervous times.

My final substitution was McCracken for James, just to add a few fresh legs at the back. With 81 minutes on the clock, Guy conjured our first attack since the goal. Remarkably, it went in. James deflected a pass back upfield and Guy stuck his leg out to control it just in front of the Stevenage backline. Despite being pursued by legs and bodies coming at him from several different directions at once, Guy composed himself impressively to curl a low twenty five yard shot wide of the keeper and into the far corner. Awesome goal!

As Guy ran to the corner flag enjoying the adulation of the crowd, I hugged Brian and screamed with the best of them. Get in my son! Game over. We hadn’t created much in this match but the most adventurous team had won. We deserved it. Stevenage had played for the draw and we hadn’t. That's all it boils down to. If you play for a draw then you get what you deserve in my book.

All discipline from the visiting team disappeared in the final ten minutes. Between Oliver and Ashton both getting booked for Stevenage, further chances came and went to Guy, Gill, and Gnakpa. We actually had eight shots in this match with half of those efforts coming after the second goal. At the other end Stevenage created bugger all towards the climax of the match. By the time the board for injury time was held up, I didn't even care what number was on it.

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

FINAL SCORE (Att - 4576)

Luton Town 2 (Spencer 49, Guy 81)

Stevenage Borough 0

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

(other results)

Cambridge 2-1 Droylsden

Ebbsfleet 2-0 Crawley

Grays 3-0 Weymouth

Kidderminster 2-2 Histon

Macclesfield 1-2 Woking

Mansfield 0-3 Rushden

Northwich 0-4 Oxford

Salisbury 3-2 Kettering

St Albans 1-1 Forest Green

Tamworth 0-1 Burton

York 3-1 AFC Wimbledon

(table >> From 5 matches we have 3 wins, 2 draws, and 0 losses)

1 - Rushden and Diamonds (12)

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

2 - Luton Town (11)

3 - Mansfield Town (10)

4 - AFC Wimbledon (10)

5 - Cambridge Utd (10)

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

6 - Grays Athletic (9)

[michael62]

I have just caught up with this story im a luton town season ticket holder and i think this story is probley one of the best fm stories i have read really catches what goes on at a football club espically since most of this has probley happened a luton at some time in the clubs history

looks like keane is not doing very well for you at the moment

He is an absolutley legend at the moment thanks to his stunning dramatic injury time winner against oxford on tuesday straight from a corner !!!

keep up the good work mate im looking forward to the next installment

[Welwyn]

I have just caught up with this story im a luton town season ticket holder and i think this story is probley one of the best fm stories i have read really catches what goes on at a football club espically since most of this has probley happened a luton at some time in the clubs history

looks like keane is not doing very well for you at the moment

He is an absolutley legend at the moment thanks to his stunning dramatic injury time winner against oxford on tuesday straight from a corner !!!

keep up the good work mate im looking forward to the next installment

Exactly, here it is, with commentary from our show from Simon 'Statto' Pitts:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDJhtXGinyE

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks Michael! It was weird seeing Luton beat Oxford 2-1 with a last minute goal because in a way that's exactly what happened in my Luton/Oxford game a few matches ago.

Welwyn, I've just watched that before posting. That's an awesome video! The Oxford fans down the far end look absolutely stunned lol

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

22/08/09 - A girl less copied (part 1)

Darren entered the building at approximately 12.03am, by the sounds of it flanked by a woman. Unbeknown to him though he was about to get the shock of his life. As he opened the door to the communal offices, there was me sat on the edge of one of the spare desks. Mr Bond, I’ve been expecting you.

“James!” Darren said in surprise. “What....I mean....why are”.

“Good evening” I replied, grinning from ear to ear.

The girl he was with first looked at me and then at Darren, clearly nonplussed as to what was happening. I had to admit though she was a real stunner from head to toe. She had everything going for her. She had long blonde hair, a slim figure, a nice face, and of course, the coup de grace – large boobs. My French might be a bit wonky there but there was nothing wonky about Danielle, as I would soon learn her name to be. She was pixel perfect.

“You might want to say goodnight to your friend” I continued. “Or swap numbers, if you need to”.

To say my website administrator looked distraught at this idea would be putting it mildly.

“You know errr, can’t I take off some place else with Danielle and maybe me and you can talk about this on Monday?”

“Sorry Darren. You promised me you wouldn’t do this again, so now you’re going to take a hit”.

Before I could even finish that sentence, Danielle decided she’d had enough. She barged past Darren in a huff and took off back down the corridor.

“Aw man!” exclaimed her abandoned beau, watching her leave. “That had to be like the fittest girl I’ve ever pulled”.

“Why didn’t you take her back to your house then?”

“I don’t know. What can I tell you? Girls like being taken to offices. It’s different to what they’ve ever done with guys before”.

“Come back in and shut the door. Let’s have a chat”.

Darren did as he’d been ordered to and then pulled Brenda’s chair out from behind her desk. I did the same with one of the chairs from the spare desks and soon we were parked facing each other three yards apart. I had a carrier bag with me containing a four pack of lager I’d picked up on the way over here. I took it out of the bag now and unpeeled a can each for me and my companion.

“Here” I said, passing him a can. “Accept this in good spirit. It is Saturday night after all”.

“Like this is going to make up for not getting with THAT” he replied, gesturing with his thumb back towards the door.

“I’ve got to admit, she was quite the stunner wasn’t she? Where did you meet her?”

“Errrr..well I errr...let me think”.

“You know Darren, let me just say that it’s very rare you see a woman like that around the clubs of Luton. Now I’m not a talent agent or anything, but if you were to take that Danielle bird down to Heavenly Hatters for a little audition, I reckon she’d probably get a job there”.

“Yeah, actually, you know, it’s funny you should mention Heavenly Hatters. The thing is, well, I guess I kind have ...might have ...popped in there with a couple of mates earlier”.

Darren took a long slow sip of his beer after saying this, hiding the majority of his face behind the can yet still managing to keep his eyes on me to see what my reaction would be.

“And let me guess, that’s where you met Danielle? And after a chat and a drink and whatever, you then somehow pulled her and came back here?”

“I know!” he laughed. “I couldn’t believe it! At the time I thought it was....”

“...almost too good to be true?”

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I thought! Wasn't going to pass it up though was I?”

I couldn’t be bothered mentioning it but it wasn’t just Danielle’s premier league looks which had given her away. The fact she’d been dressed in blue jeans and a casual red top hadn’t exactly given me the impression she’d been to a bar or a nightclub earlier (at least not in the normal sense).

“How did you even know I’d be here?” Darren asked meanwhile.

“Oh it wasn’t that hard to figure out once little things like buttons and bracelets kept shafting the photocopier. Once I realised you were ‘back on form’, so to speak, all it took then was getting Caroline to tell me which night you would next be out with your buddies”.

“Nah, you just guessed which night I’d be out next. Caroline would never sell me out”.

“She would if her manager offered to buy her a copy of the new album by Zombie Orgy”.

Darren screwed up his face and took another sip. A large one.

“Is that really a band?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t fulfilled my half of the bargain yet”.

“Sneaky b!tch”.

“Let’s not veer away from the main issue here. A while ago you promised me you wouldn’t bring any more women here after hours. You’ve broken that promise, and done so several times over probably. It’s not easy to lose objects down the inside of a photocopier. My guess is you’ve been bringing birds back here a hell of a lot since we last talked about this”.

“Actually it’s only been recently, but fair enough, it doesn’t change the fact I broke my promise”.

We looked at each other past the ends of our cans and in the moment of eye contact which followed, I think the penny finally dropped in Darren's head that he’d let me down.

“I’m sorry, James. I swear on my life I won’t do it again”.

“You really really mean it this time?”

“Absolutely. I'll admit, and I'm being serious, not jokey, I got weak – with the women – you know how it can be. It ain’t important though. Next time I’ll just take them home. I swear to God. You can trust me here. I won't let you down again”.

“Okay mate, no worries”.

I held my can out for him to clink it with his own and he gladly obliged. Then we finished them off.

“Just one more thing, Darren. Because you broke your promise, I’d like you to do me a favour to make it up to me. It’s nothing major, just something I need a hand with".

“What is it?” he asked, his expression curious.

“Oh don’t worry” I chuckled. “It’ll be fun. You’re gonna love it”.

[Welwyn]

Yeah, but everything you could hear on that video, we were going just as berserk in the studio!

[ScottleeSV]

22/08/09 - A girl less copied (part 2)

“You must be joking!” Darren half-shouted as he opened his second can.

“Nope, I’m deadly serious”.

“Look, there is no way I am going to parade around the pitch wearing that stupid Happy Harry costume. Even back in the day it wasn’t funny. Did we get a bear for a mascot, or a pirate costume, or a giant racoon, or something that actually looked cool? No. Did we hell! We got Happy Harry. Well I’m not wearing it, dude! No way! That thing died with the old club as far as I’m concerned!”

“It actually did die, funnily enough. Fred told me the other day it got nicked around about the time the club got relegated – heaven only knows which relegation – but it got nicked. Luckily though, there was a replica that came with the original. It’s slightly different to the old one but it’s still essentially Happy Harry in all his happy smiling glory. Fred’s been keeping him locked away in one of the store cupboards”.

“Good for Fred, and I’m still not wearing it. Get somebody else”.

I got up off my chair and stretched my legs. Darren remained where he was.

“Darren” I continued methodically, taking a new seat on the edge of the nearest empty desk. “I swear I’m not lying when I say this; however, my request to have you taken onboard as a part time scout was rejected again just this past week. It’s nothing to do with you, the club simply doesn’t want to give any more wages away right now where it thinks it can’t afford them.

“What I did get promised though is that they’ll take you on next season as a favour to me just so long as we get promoted this time around. In the meantime, if you still want to earn some extra pennies between now and then, this is your only bet. You won’t get as much extra money for being Happy Harry as you would for scouting, but it’s better than nothing”.

“I don’t care” he replied stubbornly. “I’m still not doing it”.

“Oh come on Darren. Not only do you owe me a favour anyway, but this is something which will actually add money to your wage!”

“And what about my reputation? I’ll be a laughing stock amongst all my mates if I start being Happy Harry on a matchday!”

“How will they know it’s you? Your mates haven’t got X-Ray eyes have they? How are they going to see into the costume?”

“And how will I explain turning up in the stand to join them at least ten minutes after the start of kick-off every week?”

“Just say you’ve got extra matchday office duties holding you up. There’s any number of excuses you could use!”.

He really really didn’t want to this, and now it was his turn to get up and mooch around. He didn’t settle down on the edge of a desk like me though; instead he began to walk over his own footsteps like a dog in a cage.

“Where did you even come up with this idea anyway? It sounds like something Glynn would come out with, not you”.

“Well if you must know, I just so happened to notice the other week that quite a few kids tend to congregate now in the areas behind the dugouts. It’s not just Rory you know. The other week I thought to myself how nice it would be if they had a mascot to laugh at and have their picture taken with before a game. After all, it’s not just the adult matchday experience we’ve got to consider.”

“Now you actually sound like Glynn!” Darren remarked. “Why can’t one of the others do it, someone who doesn’t care about missing huge chunks of the game? Caroline’s always moaning about never having enough cash recently. Why can’t she do it?”

I sighed deeply and took my biggest lager sip yet.

“Could you really see Caroline fitting into Happy Harry? Brenda’s hardly going to do it either, and Nicky would be too worried about breaking a nail in one of Harry’s fingers”.

“Yeah that’s true!” he chuckled.

“Look” I said, as Darren went and sat down again. “You’ve been going to Luton Town your whole life. This is your chance to do something great, not just for Luton, but football in the community. In fifty years time you’ll be able to tell your grandkids that you were once...Happy Harry. They’ll think you’re the coolest grandad ever! What’s more, you’ll always feel that you did your bit for.....”.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it. Jesus. Just stop talking already”.

“That’s the spirit, Rodders!” I said, moving behind him and slapping him on the back. “You know it makes sense”.

“I can’t believe this. Half an hour ago I knew I was going to end up wearing rubber, I just didn’t think it would be from head to toe. What a night. I’m heading home anyway. I suppose you can’t drive me now you’ve had that second can”.

“No” I replied, heading around to my own desk. “I’m not leaving yet anyway. I didn’t think you’d get here tonight until much later actually; I was originally planning on doing some football related surfing for a couple of hours whilst I waited for you to turn up. I think I’ll do that now for a bit”.

“Okay, see ya on Monday then”.

“Yep, cheerio....Harry”.

Darren turned on his heels halfway to the door and gave me an evil stare. Then he walked out, leaving me all alone again.

‘God that Danielle was fit’ I thought, absorbing the silence.

I felt there was something fishy about Darren’s lucky break at Heavenly Hatters that justified further thought on the matter. Right now though I was tired, and the beer inside me was also making the idea of ‘football related surfing’ seem undesirable too.

The memory of Darren’s late night rendevous with Chantelle all those months ago (or however long it had been) made me recall the reason I’d been there to witness it in the first place. At the time I’d been messing around with Dave Wheelie’s safe, discovering things like notes and guns.

'That gun!'

It was still there in Bob's office wasn't it? The notion made me queasy. Deciding I could no longer be bothered to boot my computer up for any worthwhile purpose, I turned off the lights to the communal offices and went out to the corridor. Then I gave Bob's door a quick push to see if it was open.

It was open, and inside the room, still abandoned by the left hand wall, surrounded by broken chair legs and empty Mcdonalds bags, was the safe. Hastily I turned the light back off again and headed for the exit.

Why was that safe still there though? Did nobody else apart from me know what was in it? Why had nobody even bothered to ask around about it? It was well known amongst practically everyone internally involved with Luton FC that Dave Wheelie had been a dodgy character. Why did nobody suspect there might be something dodgy about his safe then? It was like one of those weird anomolies that just flies right underneath everybody's noses.

There was a gun in that safe. Probably a loaded one (or why would it be there?). In America I'm sure it wouldn't be a big deal. In England though, the thought of a gun lying around in a workplace tends to make people like me go "Oh! There's a gun there. Is anybody going to get rid of it?" I don't like it. I don't like being the only person knowing either. I think that's the worst thing actually.

'Dammit, I can't drive now can I?' I thought, leaning against the car door in the dead of night, my head tipsy from the lager.

Time for a cab then. Destination = bed. And not before time.

[FlownCanary]

Just caught up on this, still really loving it, especially the Darren saga.

btw, is there really a band called Zombie Orgy? If there is, I may have to listen, if there isn't then there should be a band named Zombie Orgy!

[ScottleeSV]

Good to hear that, Canary. I'm sorry to say though that Zombie Orgy doesn't exist in real life lol

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

24/08/09 - This is it

When I arrived in the stadium car park on Monday morning, my phone went off just as I pulling the keys from the ignition. It was Bob, informing me the charges against The Royal Hotel Four had been dropped. Apparently there was simply not enough evidence against the players to justify charging them. Keane and company, guilty or not, were off the hook. This of course was very good news, and before entering the building I decided to share it with Lee and Cyril.

“Guys” I said loudly, knocking on the door to the port-a-cabin.

“Come in” said a dreary voice.

I stepped inside and there was Cyril crouched on the floor, Lee stood over him. Behind them was a man-sized model of a Star Wars character. It was that hairy one who looks like a half man half ape. I loosely recognised him from the movies but couldn’t remember his name.

“Chewbacca” Cyril sobbed. “I can’t believe he did this to you”.

Chewbacca, that was his name. Anyway this version of Chewbacca seemed to have his arms missing. There were two savage tears just below the tops of his shoulders, and it didn’t take a genius to work out this was the reason Cyril was upset. Not that Chewbacca himself seemed to mind, having said that. He was still grinning.

“Who did this?” I asked.

“Who do you think?” Cyril almost screamed in anger, rising to his feet. “Albie Bootle! He’s killing us! He’s killing our business! He’s ruining our shop! And now he’s vandalising our most prized antiques!”

“Well I’m not having that” I replied. “A friendly rivalry is one thing, but vandalism is entirely another. I’ll soon sort this out for you”.

“Cool!” exclaimed Lee.

“Oh. Right” said Cyril, wiping his eyes and looking suddenly more optimistic about life.

I turned back around and stepped outside, intent on marching straight over to The Luton Town Megastore and giving Albie a piece of my mind. I hadn’t walked five yards though when Albie seemed to pre-empt my approach, bursting from his cabin and taking great strides to meet me halfway.

“Albie, what the hell have you.....”.

I paused halfway through the sentence, my train of thought distracted by the fact Albie was carrying a huge portrait under his arm. I also noted that Albie himself seemed to be just as upset as Cyril had been only moments earlier.

“Look at this!” he shouted, twisting the painting around so I could see it properly.

It was a picture of the original Star Trek crew from the 1960’s TV series, all lined up side by side on the set of the show. More than that, it was framed and looked extremely expensive. The problem here was on the faces of the subjects. Captain Kirk and his boys seemed to have each acquired a pair of spectacles and a moustache, drawn on in black magic marker.

“Who did that, Cyril and Lee?”

“You’re damn right it was Cyril and Lee!”

“Guys, did you do this?” I asked, twisting around on the spot.

Cyril nodded lamely. Lee merely stared down into the concrete.

“Well Christ guys! How am I supposed to come down on him for wrecking your stuff if you’ve also been wrecking his stuff?”

“We only did it because he wrote graffiti on the side of the port-a-cabin!” Cyril exclaimed. “Come and look”.

The four of us, led by an animated Cyril, went back over to The Souvenir Shop. Sure enough, on the side of the cabin, in huge orange lettering the type of which can only come from a spray can, were the words – “Hans Solo sucks dick!”

“I only did that though because Cyril dropped a stink bomb outside the megastore on the day of the last home match!” Albie immediately went on the counter-attack with. “I lost tons of my usual sales that day because of that!”

“And I only did that because SOMEBODY rang up Pizza Parlour and had ten pizzas delivered to our shop, even though we hadn’t ordered anything!”

“Guys” I said, trying to step in the middle. “Let’s just calm down a minute and act like adults. Now before we go any further, you’ve both got to promise me that neither of you will partake in any more of these ridiculous practical jokes”.

“No! I’m not going to accept 50/50 blame for all this crap!” Albie said firmly. “He might not admit it, but he started all this. What’s more, I know why. Wait here a minute”.

With that he trundled off back to the megastore across the way, the painting still under his arm. In his dark blue Starship Enterprise uniform he cut a very strange figure in the middle of the car park.

“What’s he’s gone to fetch now?” I asked Cyril.

“Errrr, well....” he replied, his nose twitching.

When Albie next returned he was clutching the Deathmatch Trophy I’d forfeited to him last season, or if you like, the figurine of Luke Skywalker clutching a flag with ‘Luton Town Trivia Deathmatch Champion, sponsored by George Lucas’ written on it.

“Just admit it, Cyril! This is what you want, isn’t it? Well why don’t you grow some balls and come and try and get it off me? Come on, you know you want to!”

“Now don’t rise to it!” I said to Cyril, noticing him go all red.

Albie though was now holding the trophy up in the air and posturing for all he was worth. Steam was practically protruding from Cyril’s ears now, and even the normally passive Lee looked appalled.

“Just ignore him” I repeated. “It’s not worth it”.

“Weeeeeee are the champions, my frieeeennd!” Albie began singing, waving Skywalker from side to side. “And weeeee will go fighting till the end! Bum bum bum bum!”

This was the last straw for Cyril. He suddenly began marching over to Albie at full speed.

“Cyril, no” I called out.

Rather than punch him one though, Cyril stopped a yard short of his intended prey.

“Albie” he said softly. “I challenge you...to a death-match”.

“Challenge....accepted” Albie said slowly, a grin of relish on his face. “Why don’t we make it interesting though? In addition to the trophy being up for grabs, why don’t we lay twenty on it?”

“Twenty? Sounds like peanuts to me. Has the megastore not been making much profit recently? Why don’t we make it fifty?”

“Please tell me they mean pounds and not pence” I said absently to Lee.

“Want to raise the bar any further?” Cyril asked meanwhile.

“Actually I do” Albie replied, craning his neck forwards. “How about the loser has to pack up his shop and get out of Kenilworth Road?”

Now it was Cyril’s turn to hesitate. Over on my left, Lee gasped and put his hand over his mouth. Even I was gripped now!

“What’s the matter?” Albie asked. “Are you chicken?”

This seemed to make Cyril’s mind up for him. He raised his finger in the air and pointed it straight at Albie’s nose.

“Nobody! Nobody calls me chicken, Albie! Nobody! I accept the wager as it is offered”.

“Cool” said Albie, offering his hand out to shake. “I’ll be in touch to arrange a date then. In the meantime, stay the f__k off my property”.

Cyril shook his hand and then kept his eyes on Albie like a hawk as he strutted off back to his cabin. Once the door was closed behind him, Cyril turned around and began marching back to his own cabin. He walked past me and Lee on the way without even saying a word.

“What now?” Lee asked, taking steps to catch up.

“What now? I’ll tell you what now; I want every single Luton Town book in our entire stock out on that window table for a revision session and I want it done five minutes ago! We’re going to war! This is it!”

I almost felt like I’d vanished into thin air and nobody could see me anymore. Cyril and Lee went into the port-a-cabin and shut the door behind them without even saying goodbye.

“Heaven help us” I said out loud.

At least one of them would be leaving soon. That was one thing.

[Ian1976]

Nice start.

Will be following this closely, good luck

This is gonna be awesome. Another Luton Town manager. Read mine and perhaps we'll compare notes. I'm Ian.

[ScottleeSV]

Nice to meet you Ian, and good luck with the Hatters

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

27/08/09 - The second liberation of Nicky Willacy

I found myself struggling to work today. It was Nicky who was the problem. I just couldn’t make my mind up whether or not to tell her about Keith and what he’d done. Given she was still acting her usual happy-go-lucky self though since the closing of the Royal Hotel case, I could only presume Keane had managed to get out of this one scott-free.

It was a difficult dilemma I was faced with. One half of me felt I should leave other people’s lives to their own devices, and that to butt in would be none of my business. On the other hand, it’s a tough sell to try and claim to you the diary reader that Nicky isn’t my friend. I’ve known all these guys in the office for over a year now. They’re all my good friends in their own ways, Nicky no less than anybody.

Furthermore, the good person inside me felt it was absolutely my duty to speak up about what had happened. Would I have expected Nicky to do the same for me if the boot was on the other hand? You’re damn right I would have! Did I particularly care that Keith might be so devastated from losing Nicky he might then underperform? No, I didn’t. It’s not as if Keith has ever exactly ‘over performed’ for me, with Nicky or without her. On his wages I’d probably be better off without him, quite frankly.

Not yet sure what I was going to write, I opened up a new E-mail screen and glanced across the room. Nicky was currently on the phone to somebody, jolting her head from side to side with that signature grin on her face. She looked in a very good mood. Then again, she usually does look in a good mood. That’s what makes her Nicky. She’s not just a pretty face; she’s a friendly face, an incurably friendly face even. I love that about her.

Okay then, let’s do this.

Hey Nickster.

Listen, I don’t know how to say this so I’m going to make it brief. Basically, and I’m sorry to have to tell you this - Keith WAS one of the four guys involved in The Royal Hotel goings on. I know this as fact because I personally admonished him and the other three guys for their actions. If you’ve ever asked him who those guys were, and he denied knowing who, or simply named four names that didn’t include his own, he was lying.

What did they do exactly? Well, three of them definitely had sex with the girls (Keith 100% included). Nothing more sinister than that was ever proven.

I was instructed not to tell anybody at the time the identities of those involved. I only tell you now because you’re my friend and I feel I have a duty to tell you. Please please don’t tell anybody I told you about this though. If Keith finds out I told you then I’ve got a potential dressing room problem on my hands, and I know you don’t want that for me.

If you feel you need to explain how you found out about this, please say you were told by an anonymous reporter wanting to make trouble for you. Say the reporter had proof or something (photographs?).

As far as I know, this was a very serious relationship for you. Whether or not you choose to continue it, please know that I feel very sorry for you and I really wish this hadn’t have happened.

James

Keith of course isn’t the first Luton Town footballer Nicky has moonlighted with. Back when I first joined the club, she was seeing midfielder Kevin Watson. That relationship petered out when Kevin inexplicably ran off to Margate, never to return and without even telling Nicky. Next thing we knew, Watson was in the news for trying it on with an underage Thai girl and Nicky was inconsolable with rage and embarrassment.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. Nicky had bawled her eyes out in the corridor right in front of me and Darren. Then she’d gone back into the office and cried some more in front of the women. It had been painful to watch. I can recall thinking at the time, and bear in mind I didn’t know her very well back then, that she’d seemed very naive and pathetic for getting so wound up over a loser like Watson.

I don’t know the exact length of that relationship but I can’t imagine it was very long. What’s more, I briefly knew Watson and he was hardly in Nicky’s league. I got the distinct impression during that period she was one those stark raving bonkers fame-seekers who will literally go out with any old ugly sod just so long as he happens to play football and earn a nice wage for it.

Do I still think she was like that back then? Yes, quite possibly. She was only eighteen at the time though, and people aren’t always attracted to the right people at that age. Do I think she’s like that now? No I don’t, an opinion almost entirely born out of how Nicky reacted to my E-mail.

It occurred to me just after I’d sent it I might have made a mistake in the timing. To break it to her halfway through the working day, in front of a full set of staff, could have potentially led to similar scenes as we got last year. Waterworks might have ensued and then productivity would have been lost, and generally all hell would have broken loose. Who would have been to blame? The answer is me, for not telling her after work or something as an alternative.

As aforementioned however, Nicky is a year older now. She’s not as mature as she’ll ever get, but she’s still a lot wiser now to the shortcomings of men (and especially men who play soccer). Her eyes did well up when she saw my mail; I watched her read it across the room and my heart almost split in two for her. Then the unthinkable happened! Nicky actually withheld herself from letting it all out at her desk, instead getting up and silently leaving the room.

The departure so well concealed the grief no doubt running through her entire body that Darren, Brenda, and Caroline didn’t notice a thing. To them it must have looked like Nicky had simply vanished on a routine trip to the lavatory.

Now here’s an even more impressive fact about Nicky’s newfound resolve. At first I thought she actually had gone to the toilet, albeit to cry instead of urinate. She came back to the offices so quickly though that there’s no way she could have even reached the doors to the toilets before turning around. My guess is she got halfway there and then decided Keith wasn’t worth the tears.

Once she was back she strolled casually up to the side of my desk and began scrawling something on a piece of paper. It didn’t take me long to read the contents when she was done.

I can believe it, and I appreciate you telling me. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay without him.

And that was that. Seconds later she was behind her desk, arms raised as if about to continue on with her work. The smile was gone from her face but she’s only human after all. In that moment though, as Nicky’s arms fell on the keys and Darren simultaneously said something in the background about Eastenders being a pile of poo, I came to a realisation.

I came to the realisation that Nicky’s days in the realm of the WAG are probably over. The rest of the footballing fraternity certainly won’t thank Keane and Watson for that.

[ScottleeSV]

29/08/09 - Crawling into Crawley

Today we swerved southwards around London to play Crawley Town. The Red Devils, as they’re known, play at The Broadfield Stadium in Crawley, West Sussex. Similarly to Histon, the previous opponents we played away from home, Crawley are a team who have slowly improved over the years to now reside in the Conference National. This is their sixth season in the non-league top flight, and last season they managed a decent 8th placed finish. So far this campaign they’ve won two and lost three of their opening five. For them that’s about par for the course.

The afternoon began in a frustrating manner for me. After reaching the Crawley Museum Centre in Goffs Park for a nosey round, I discovered the place was closed! Apparently it’s only open two afternoons a week and Saturday isn’t one of them. What good is that? After experiencing the tourism black hole that was Histon, I’d been really looking forward to seeing this place. Now I was faced with the prospect of another afternoon sat in the pub.

In the end I at least avoided that fate by finding a public park called The Memorial Gardens. I bought myself some fish and chips and sat on a low wall in the morning sun. Once I’d finished eating I sat and watched two kids playing hide and seek with toy guns. Then I got my laptop out and did a bit of impromptu surfing.

If you’re wondering, the date for the big face-off between Cyril and Albie is still ‘to be announced’. A neutral source from the Hatters Online forum has been mutually selected to write the questions and apparently that’s going to take him a couple of weeks at least. There’s also been a delay in deciding where the showdown will take place.

Originally it was assumed Albie’s cabin would be the venue. After all, it says in the unwritten law of Luton trivia death matches the reigning champion gets to play wherever he wants. Darren though, involving himself in this affair a little bit more than I’m comfortable with, yesterday suggested to Albie the match be held somewhere bigger than a cluttered port-a-cabin.

You see Darren seems to think there’s enough interest in this contest amongst a fringe element of Hatters fans to justify holding it somewhere lots of people can watch it. Albie has gone along with this because he thinks he’s going to kick Cyril’s ass, and that to do so in front of an audience will be more fun than doing it behind closed doors. As for Cyril, he doesn’t have a say in the matter either way because he’s only the challenger.

The latest on the Nicky and Keith situation was less known to me when I set off for Crawley this morning. Caroline did loosely indicate to me over text last night that Nicky is planning to dump him over the weekend, but I don’t know any more details than that. I did see Keith at Kenilworth Road this morning along with the rest of the squad but I didn’t get around to gauging his body language. My thoughts were too wrapped up in the match.

I decided to make two changes from the team which beat Stevenage. I dropped Beavon and Taylor and brought in Niven and Buckley. The Buckley-for-Taylor swap on the right wing is simply a case of me continuing to give both of those lads opportunities and see who nails the place down. The other change, Beavon for Niven, is more of a tactical affair. It involves Daniels dropping back into the left back position so Niven can play on the left side of midfield.

Before I wrap up for the afternoon and head off to the ground, I should perhaps mention a couple of interesting bits of news. Well, they’re interesting for me anyway. Firstly on a personal note, I’ve decided to enter Bambi into a beauty competition at a local dog home. It’s just a bit of fun really. It will also give Bambi a chance to mix with other dogs for an afternoon and have a break from the boredom of the apartment.

On a professional note, I’ve received some correspondence from those nice people at Live Bunny. They’ve more or less invited me to appear on one of their programmes as a guest pundit. They haven’t specified which game; I think they’re still at the stage of sending feelers out to see which managers from around the league would be interested. Anyway, it sounds fun so I’m going to get in touch with them tomorrow and tell them I’m up for it. It’s hardly Match of the Day but it’s better than nothing.

Time for the match then - A win today will take us to the top of the league if Rushden and Diamonds fail to win their game. It's never easy playing away from Kenilworth Road though. Secretly I'd settle for a point from this one just to keep the unbeaten run going. Today begins a difficult period of three away games in a row, the other two being Burton and Kidderminster to follow. We need to stay on our toes for all three games if possible. If we don't, the league table might have a very different ring to it by the time we next play at home, and for me, that would spell certain trouble.

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

Next, from the BSP - Crawley v Luton

[ScottleeSV]

29/08/09, League Match 6

Crawley Town v Luton Town

GK – Dean Brill

DL – Charlie Daniels

DR – Claude Gnakpa

DC – Tony James

DC – George Pilkington

DMC – Kevin Nicholls

MC – Derek Niven

ML – Matthew Gill

MR – Will Buckley

FC – Scott Spencer

FC – Jamie Guy

The travelling Luton fans were almost cheering as early as the 4th minute; Crawley were penned into their own box and Guy went up for a header with two defenders. He didn’t win the battle but the ball was only headed out as far as Niven, who smashed one over from range. Despite the miss, I was encouraged with our early endeavours on what was proving to be a surprisingly boggy playing surface. Was this an attempt by the smaller club to unsettle the bigger fish?

If it was, it didn’t appear to be working. We again went on the prowl after 6 minutes. This time Gnakpa got the ball in midfield and went on a mazy run out to the right touchline. He eventually laid the ball infield to Niven who then found Buckley with a precision pass between two oncoming Crawley players. Buckley ran to the byline before curling in a beautiful banana cross which the keeper could only dream about intercepting!

Unfortunately though there was nobody on the end of it for us, and it ran through to Daniels on the far side of the penalty area. As my left back controlled the ball and looked up to check his options, a Crawley defender jumped in and mis-timed his tackle. Daniels went down in a heap and the referee pointed to the penalty spot! It was a penalty!

To take the kick would be captain Kevin Nicholls. Could he score, despite incessant whistling from around the Broadfield Stadium? You bet he could! Nicholls placed it high and to the keeper’s right, sending him the wrong way. We had an early goal, just like we had done at Histon! Nicholls casually celebrated by jogging back to the centre circle holding his finger to his lips, as team-mates from all angles tried to get a piece of him.

The goal failed to stir Crawley into life. We were dominating play all over the park. In the 11th minute Spencer fed Guy thirty yards out before Guy then thundered one just over the bar. Better was to come six minutes later. This time Gill took an attacking throw-in on the nearside down by the corner flag. Guy flicked it on towards Spencer in the middle. There were two defenders around him but he somehow managed to attack the ball anyway, nodding back across the goalkeeper and into the corner! Goal!

It was Spencer’s fifth goal of the season, and he celebrated by lying on the ground Charlie George style, circa 1971. They know how to do good goal celebrations these footballers don’t they? Anyway, we were 2-0 up now and there were still only 17 minutes gone! Unfortunately though, the second goal came with a price. It turned out Guy had injured himself during the making of the assist, so I was forced to take him off and bring Michael Bridges on.

The cheers were loud in the away section for the entrance of Bridges, but the big man lasted only five minutes. It didn’t take him long to hobble back off with a recurrance of his injury, and now I had a major problem. There were no more strikers on the bench so I had to bring McCracken on and go to 5.4.1. Crawley immediately sensed blood and poured forwards with renewed vigour.

We were too good in defence though, and the Red Devils just couldn’t break through. After 29 minutes we caught them on the counter attack, Brill sending a backpass upfield and over the top of the backline. Buckley caught hold of it and advanced on the keeper in the growing mud. His shot was across the body of the keeper and saved with a desperate swish of the left arm. That was almost game over!

After 41 minutes, it actually WAS game over. Brown fouled Gill twenty five yards out and Nicholls trotted up to take the resulting free kick. From the position the ball was in, the kick was more suited for a left footed taker than Nicholls. Try telling my skipper that though, who blasted the ball against the wall with all his might. It wasn’t a great shot but it took a wicked deflection and flew towards the opposite corner to the one the keeper had dived at. The ball hit the inside of the post and eventually nestled in the back of the net.

The away fans all went ape as Nicholls once again did his finger-on-lip stunt. Brian and I shook hands and exchanged knowing grins. That had to be the three points in the bag. Had to be. I’ll tell you what, I can scarcely ever remember walking to a half time dressing room feeling so content with life.

----------

Half time – Crawley 0 Luton 3

Martin mood’o’meter – Somewhere over the rainbow

-----------

Opposition manager Steve Evens obviously gave his boys a rollicking at half time. They emerged from the dressing rooms a completely changed team, and immediately tried to do to us what we’d done to them. By contrast, we wandered back out onto the pitch almost in the style of eleven tracksuited players about to board the team coach to set off home. It wasn’t a good combination.

Things continued as normal until only the 49th minute, and that was when Crawley finally managed a shot on goal. It was a close run thing though. Pilkington slipped in a puddle some way out from goal and Rankin took advantage to burst clear. He descended on Brill with great enthusiasm and his shot was both firm and on target. Luckily however, Brill got firm hands behind it and parried it away. The crowd were suddenly alive again.

Another chance was imminent, and again it was a one-on-one opportunity. This time Johnson collected a pass from Crowell and went through on goal from an angle. The eventual shot was lower this time, but again Brill was able to stop it. As James hacked the ball into touch for a throw-in, I shouted and screamed for everyone to get their act together. With 37 minutes still left on the clock, we had to focus better than this!

Try as we might, we just couldn’t get that first half intensity back. We tried to play penetrating football in the Crawley half but it just wasn’t working. In the 60th minute, the impressive Crowell broke down the left and outsprinted my entire defence. As he was about to shoot from a tight angle, he sold the onrushing Daniels a dummy and cut back inside to get the ball on his right foot. It was now a very good chance to score, but Crowell mistimed the shot and pulled it just wide.

It was suddenly very uncomfortable viewing. Three minutes later Crawley missed a third one-on-one, Johnson hammering a poor effort down the throat of Brill which was simply never going to beat him in the form he was in. After 71 minutes, the same player pulled the ball back from the byline to the dangerous Crowell on the edge of the penalty area. Crowell’s shot was better this time but still ended up in the side netting.

In the end of course, with the pressure being this intense, it was inevitable the home side would score. With 74 minutes on the clock, substitute Carter tricked his way around the outside of my defence before chipping the ball across goal. Nicholls was there to head it away but only as far as Crowell, who hit a low bobbling shot under Brill to reduce the arrears.

There was optimism around the ground now. Crawley had fifteen minutes to find two goals. After further screaming from myself and Brian, we seemed to attempt to see the rest of the game out by retaining posession in areas of the pitch which weren’t muddy. For a while this worked, and in the 87th minute we even managed to create a chance of our own. It was another free kick, and if Nicholls could score this he would have a hat trick.

He couldn’t score again; the ball hit the wall. Crawley broke and the ball ended up in the centre circle with Lewis Dark. From here the player slid the ball forwards to Johnson, who wasn’t quite in the clear because of the covering presence that was Pilkington. In the blink of an eye though, Johnson went for broke. He rifled in a high dipping long range shot, and it was a good one too. The ball went over Brill and comfortably under the crossbar to make it 2-3.

“Oh for crying out loud!” I shouted.

“Two minutes left” Brian said, panic just as much evident in his voice as it was in mine.

In the 90th minute we won a corner. Gill and Spencer messed around with it by the corner flag before Gill eventually whipped in a firm cross. McCracken got on the end of it but headed it wide. Three minutes of stoppage time to go. From here, Crawley huffed and puffed but couldn’t create any more chances. The referee eventually blew for full time and we had three crucial away points. The players all went over to applaud the travelling fans whilst I looked to the sky and thanked God we had managed to hold on.

-----------

FINAL SCORE (Att - 1186)

Crawley Town 2 (Crowell 74, Johnson 88)

Luton Town 3 (Nicholls 7pen, 41, Spencer 17)

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(other scores)

AFC Wimbledon 0-0 Cambridge

Burton 1-0 Ebbsfleet

Droylsden 4-3 St Albans

Forest Green 3-0 Tamworth

Histon 2-2 Mansfield

Kettering 2-2 Grays

Oxford 2-0 Macclesfield

Rushden 6-1 Northwich

Stevenage 2-1 Kidderminster

Weymouth 0-0 York

Woking 0-0 Salisbury

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[font=Courier New]| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 1st   |       | Rushden       |       | 6     | 5     | 0     | 1     | 16    | 5     | +11   | 15    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 2nd   |       | Luton         |       | 6     | 4     | 2     | 0     | 11    | 5     | +6    | 14    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 3rd   |       | Cambridge     |       | 6     | 3     | 2     | 1     | 8     | 3     | +5    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 4th   |       | AFC Wimbledon |       | 6     | 3     | 2     | 1     | 9     | 5     | +4    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 5th   |       | Forest Green  |       | 6     | 3     | 2     | 1     | 8     | 4     | +4    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 6th   |       | Mansfield     |       | 6     | 3     | 2     | 1     | 8     | 8     | 0     | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 7th   |       | Grays         |       | 6     | 3     | 1     | 2     | 10    | 5     | +5    | 10    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 8th   |       | Burton        |       | 6     | 3     | 1     | 2     | 9     | 8     | +1    | 10    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 9th   |       | Oxford        |       | 6     | 3     | 0     | 3     | 11    | 5     | +6    | 9     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 10th  |       | York          |       | 6     | 2     | 3     | 1     | 6     | 3     | +3    | 9     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 11th  |       | Salisbury     |       | 6     | 2     | 3     | 1     | 9     | 8     | +1    | 9     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 12th  |       | Weymouth      |       | 6     | 2     | 3     | 1     | 8     | 7     | +1    | 9     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 13th  |       | Stevenage     |       | 6     | 2     | 3     | 1     | 9     | 9     | 0     | 9     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 14th  |       | Ebbsfleet     |       | 6     | 2     | 2     | 2     | 5     | 5     | 0     | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 15th  |       | Droylsden     |       | 6     | 2     | 2     | 2     | 11    | 12    | -1    | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 16th  |       | Northwich     |       | 6     | 2     | 1     | 3     | 6     | 14    | -8    | 7     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 17th  |       | Woking        |       | 6     | 1     | 3     | 2     | 5     | 6     | -1    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 18th  |       | Crawley       |       | 6     | 2     | 0     | 4     | 11    | 13    | -2    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 19th  |       | Histon        |       | 6     | 0     | 5     | 1     | 6     | 8     | -2    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 20th  |       | Kidderminster |       | 6     | 1     | 2     | 3     | 8     | 11    | -3    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 21st  |       | St. Albans    |       | 6     | 1     | 2     | 3     | 6     | 11    | -5    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 22nd  |       | Kettering     |       | 6     | 1     | 1     | 4     | 9     | 12    | -3    | 4     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 23rd  |       | Tamworth      |       | 6     | 0     | 1     | 5     | 1     | 11    | -10   | 1     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 24th  |       | Macclesfield  |       | 6     | 0     | 1     | 5     | 3     | 15    | -12   | 1     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]

[ScottleeSV]

August round-up of the other divisions

-------

Premiership

Top - Liverpool (10), West Brom (10), Chelsea (9), Man Utd (9), Middlesborough (9), Newcastle (7), Man City (7)

Bottom - Sunderland (3), West Ham (3), Everton (3), Wigan (3), Reading (3), Stoke (2), Bolton (1), Blackburn (1)

The Scousers will start dreaming again but the real talking point here is West Brom. Surely they can't make this start last? Holders Arsenal are nowhere to be seen in the early stages, despite striker Eduardo being the league's top scorer with five goals. Down the bottom there isn't really much worth analysing at this stage.

Man City were once again the big spenders over the summer. This time they paid Udinese a combined total of £49.5 million for two players - Alexis Sanchez and Gokhan Inler. I've never heard of them myself. Udinese must be a goldmine for talent at the moment though because even Chelsea got in on the act, purchasing Fabio Quagliarella for £19.75 million.

---------

Championship

Top - Birmingham (10), Bristol City (10), Portsmouth (9), Leeds (7), Fulham (7), Wolves (7), Burnley (7), Doncaster (7)

Bottom - Sheff Utd (4), Sheff Wed (4), Plymouth (4), Derby (3), Watford (3), Coventry (2), Preston (1), Nottingham Forest (1)

Relegated Pompey have undergone a firesale over the summer, selling all their top stars back to the Premiership. They've raked in quite a fortune too. They sold Glen Johnson and Peter Crouch to Aston Villa for a combined total of £20.5 million. They also got rid of Kranjcar to Chelsea for £6.25 million and Kaboul to Wigan for £6 million. It's almost a miracle they're 3rd in the league really.

It's too early to get a good read on this division yet, but no shock to see Brum at the top. I must admit it's pleasing to once again see Watford struggling down at the bottom. I hope messrs Wheelie and Branston are in for a long hard season. Incidentally, the league's leading marksman at the moment is 30 year old James Hayer of Doncaster. He has 6 goals so far.

---------

League One

Top - Norwich (13), Scunthorpe (12), Crewe (10), Blackpool (10), Brighton (10), Carlisle (10), Huddersfield (9)

Bottom - Crystal Palace (4), Rochdale (4), Swindon (4), Darlington (4), Colchester (3), Hartlepool (3), Oldham (0)

A good start for relegated Norwich. The Canaries have literally flown to the top, and I can see them doing this year what Leeds did last year, namely winning the division by a country mile. Scunthorpe are currently their closest challengers, for whom striker Paul Hayes is once again performing brilliantly. He has 5 goals so far and ties for the lead with Northampton's Constantin.

At the foot of the ladder, it's been a truly wretched start at Boundary Park. Crystal Palace won't be too happy either. Unless the Londoners buck up their ideas there's going to be no quick return to the higher leagues at Selhurt Park. The biggest transfer at this level over the summer was the move of Victor Moses from Palace to Wolves for £1.9 million.

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League Two

Top - Morecambe (13), Notts County (12), Gillingham (12), Port Vale (12), Rotherham (12), Cheltenham (10), Exeter (7), Yeovil (7)

Bottom - Wycombe (4), Accrington (4), Walsall (4), Grimsby (4), Dag and Red (2), Wrexham (1), Chester (1)

Last season I thought Morecambe were the best team we played, so for me it's no surprise they've gone top early on. They have a super striker in O'Carroll and he currently leads the goalscoring charts with Ben Fairclough of Notts County, both of whom have five goals to their name.

The worst team we played last season were Chester City. They would have gone down but for our points deficit, and with no such teams below them this time around I predict a fall into the conference for the woeful Deva stadium club. Wrexham are currently favourites to join them I suppose. The biggest transfer at this level before the season began was Anthony Gerrard's 325k move from Walsall to Swansea.

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Blue Square North

Top - Southport (16), Hinckley (15), Worcester (12), Hyde (11), Altrincham (11), Farsley (10), Stalybridge (10), Gainsborough (10)

Bottom - Redditch (6), Solihull Moors (6), Workington (5), Boston Utd (4), Leigh Genesis (4), Kings Lynn (3), Gateshead (3)

Southport have always been a yo-yo club between Step Five and Step Six, so no surprise to see them top the league. Relegated Altrincham might have feel they could have done better so far than their current position of 5th. The league's top scorer is Danny Holland of mid-table Harrogate Town; he has 6 goals.

Big clubs aplenty down in the lower reaches. Boston and Gateshead won't want to be down there for very long, even if the former are newly promoted. Kings Lynn flirted with relegation last season and will also be desperate not to go through all that again.

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Blue Square South

Top - Eastbourne Borough (18), Bogner Regis (16), Braintree (15), Chelmsford (14), Hampton and Richmond (13), Basingstoke (11), Welling (10), Bath City (10)

Bottom - Weston Super Mare (6), Farnborough (6), Team Bath (5), Bishops Stortford (5), Merthyr Tydfil (1), Sutton Utd (0), Ashford of Middlesex (0)

Purely on statistics alone, Eastbourne are the best team in the country right now. They've won 6 out of 6 and are clear favourites to bulldoze their way back into the Blue Square Premier. Near neighbours Bogner Regis have also had an impressive start.

Simon Emery's Bromley have opened their account with 1 win and 5 draws so far; they remain unbeaten but languish in mid-table. At the bottom I find it rather sad that three of the promoted clubs have mustered just one point between them so far. I hope that changes.

[ScottleeSV]

30/08/09 - Fatty food central

After yesterday’s successful if somewhat nerve-jangling win at Crawley, I felt like celebrating by doing something different today. Usually on a Sunday afternoon I meet up with Brian for a pint, a chat, some grub down The Hatters Arms. Today though, and still involving Brian, I opted for a fried breakfast at Jostein’s, the greasy spoon I’d first come across early last season when I'd been briefly reunited with Steve Fairclough.

The food had been top notch that day; I just couldn’t fully appreciate it because of the Steve. I wouldn’t have that problem today though. Today I would sit in the company of my present day best friend and savour every artery-clogging mouthful to the maximum. It would taste even sweeter after yesterday’s away win, I was sure of it.

In the football management world, food and drinks tastes good or bad depending on where you are in the league table. If you’re on a bad run and the pressure is building, to me everything feels tasteless like that computer generated fake food in The Matrix. Even sex isn’t the same. On the other hand, if you’re unbeaten and second in the league, even a dull slice of butter-less white toast seems to have a gorgeously crisp, full-on British flavour to it.

Once we arrived at the cafe, Brian went off to get a copy of the Non League paper whilst I ordered the meals.

“I’ll have two big breakfasts and two white coffees please”.

“You can have more than that if you want” the proprietor said back to me, a middle-aged scruff pot whose head only seemed to have tiny islands of hair.

“Come again?”

“You’re James Martin, Luton Town boss. I recognise you. My name’s Jim. I’m a big fan – of Luton. I think you’re doing a great job so far this season, Mr Martin. As such, if you want a few extra things with your breakfast, you just holler”.

The guy winked at me. I mean he actually winked at me. If my stomach wasn’t rumbling I think it would have been shuddering. Still, I wasn’t about to turn down the offer.

“Well, okay then” I said cheerfully. “I’ll have sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, fried bread, fried toast, chips, black pudding, and bacon. Whatever doesn’t already come with your breakfast that was on that list, please add it”.

“Will that be for both breakfasts?” Jim asked, his pencil furiously scribbling notes down on a small pad of paper.

“Errrrr no, just mine” I replied, thinking that Brian could probably do with losing some weight.

I waited at the counter for Jim to make the coffees and then took them to a booth near the wall. Brian turned up about two minutes later, newspaper under his arm.

“Shop down the street didn’t have a Non-League Paper” he said, taking his coat off and sitting down opposite me. “I got Thursday’s Hertfordshire Herald instead”.

“What good is that? It won’t have yesterday’s game in it”.

“No, but it does have an article in it by Andy Branston I thought you might want to read. I saw it on Thursday night but forgot to tell you about it”.

“Let me guess – it’s derogatory?”

“Very much so I’m afraid”.

“I don’t know why but I find it rather depressing a lot of the stores in this town sell negative rubbish that’s written about us - rubbish that isn’t even written in this county I might add - as opposed to the one national paper in England which features full length, and largely neutral, match reports about us”.

Brian looked at me as if to agree and began searching through the Herald looking for Branston’s piece. When he was ready, I took a sip of my coffee and then took the paper from him.

Luton soaring without wings, by Andy Branston

To the untrained eye, Luton Town are on the up. An unbeaten start of five matches, including three wins, has convinced many that James Martin has turned the corner. They believe the club is making good on its intention this season to turn into mincemeat any amateur enemy that moves, and that soon they will once again take their rightful place back in the football league. However, if this does indeed transpire, at what cost will it be?

Despite the lack of managerial talent Martin has to back up his array of meaningless qualifications, it was not his poor decision making skills which condemned The Hatters to a season in football’s backwaters. Neither was it his pitiful lack of self-control in defeat, or his woeful inadequacy as a speaker in front of journalists, or even his misguided policy of relying on disinterested higher division mercenaries to bail his team out of trouble. In fact, as much it will be painful to read for those in the camp who rightfully lost faith in Martin very early on in his tenure, Luton’s woes are not Martin’s fault at all.

It was an abuse of finance behind the scenes which landed Luton in their current predicament, pure and simple. The tragedy potentially unfolding at Kenilworth Road though is that past lessons may not have been learned. Correction – they probably were learned by those who jumped ship never to return, but have they been taken onboard by those now picking up the baton? The latest echo’s coming from the club would suggest they have not.

According to one unnamed insider, ‘New Luton’ is already operating with debts of up to £600,000 and counting, a potentially catastrophic ballpark for a non-league club to exist in. We all knew the marketing campaign was to be a rip-off of New Labour this season, but now club chiefs seem intent on going one further and copying Gordon Brown’s policy of shop-till-you-drop. Extravagant new signings like Michael Bridges and Dean Bowditch (1 goal between them) have reportedly boosted the club’s wage expenditure levels to way past the budget initially handed to Martin at the start of the summer.

There’s no point examining Martin’s thinking behind this; the young man simply can’t manage anything, let alone an expense sheet. The question which should be asked is who exactly is allowing him to drive the club into potential oblivion like this? Nobody at Kenilworth Road seems to know. Is it the directors, the chairman, the ‘acting’ chairman (another joke nobody gets), or even the accountant? If anybody does know, they’re not saying. Trying to wean an official statement from Luton Town Football Club is like trying to extract juice from a pineapple with your bare hands.

In the meantime though, on we head to Crawley this Saturday where New Luton will no doubt once again sneak a criminally narrow win against a bunch of journeymen plasterers and candlestick makers. The club will thus take one more step back in the direction of League Two and the internet message boards will all crow over Martin the genius, Martin the hero, the man who found a way to get results against a bunch of semi-pro’s all operating on 30% of his budget. Atta boy

At the time I couldn’t be bothered reading any more. However the second half, which I did eventually digest later on back at the flat, didn’t expand much on the first half. As my new buddy Jim appeared next to us with two plates of heavenly smelling food, I folded the newspaper up and set it down next to me.

“Did you finish it?” Brian asked, quickly chewing on a mouthful of fried tomato.

“Not quite, but I get the gist”.

“Is it true, I mean, about the debt?”

“I don’t know. It’s true we’re well over the budget allowed for wage expenditure, but I don’t know how badly that’s left our overall finances. I don’t know whether we’re in trouble, or totally fine, or even somewhere in-between. I simply don’t know. I’ll tell you one thing though; the cost of the playing staff right now is just over 20k. At one point last season it was about 37k. I know attendances have gone down a bit, but if the club is racking up debt and getting into trouble, it can’t be purely down to anything I’m doing".

"Fair enough".

Despite his words though, Brian looked ponderous.

"Brian, it's a difficult position I'm in, and these journalists just don't understand it. My job is to win this title by any means necessary. If the people above me have got something to say about wage expenditure then they should have blocked some of those signings when I made them. Everything I do gets authorised by Bob and Erica".

"Who authorises their authorisations though? And who has senior authorisation, Bob or Erica?"

"I don't know, I just E-mail the requests. Anyway, it's not for me to worry about, or you for that matter. If this club ever goes bust, at least I'll be unemployed having NOT been sacked".

Whether it should have done or not, the article had neither worried nor depressed me. How did I know that was the case? My food still tasted great.

[ScottleeSV]

02/09/09 - Get them whilst they're hot!

As soon as the call came through I picked up my mobile and made a speedy exit from the office. None of the others paid much attention; they were too busy talking about some stupid soap opera that’s on some stupid Virgin Media channel nobody watches (except for them).

“Hi, is that Gavin Allenby?” I asked.

“When I’m working, yes. You’re James Martin, I trust?”

“Yep. I gave my banking details to your secretary earlier”.

“I know. So what’s the name of the guy you want finding?”

“His name is Dave Wheelie. He might sign his name as David Wheelie though – I don’t know about that”.

“Gotcha”.

Admittedly it’s taken me a while but last night I finally decided to get to the bottom of who my real father is. My initial feelings of disillusionment (and even disinterest, to an extent) have slowly evaporated over the past few months, and now I feel in the right frame of mind to begin my investigation.

Furthermore I’ve come to realise that Dave Wheelie probably isn’t going to conveniently float past me down Luton high street anytime soon so I can ask him about the shady deal that got me to the club, the one supposedly involving my real dad. No, if I want to find Dave I’m going to have make it happen. The quickest and easiest way of doing that, I think, is by hiring a private eye, and Gavin Allenby is the man I’m counting on.

“Can you give me a description of the guy?”

“Yeah, sure. He’s about five foot ten or eleven with bushy curly hair. It’s either dark ginger or very light brown, and I’m not sure which to be honest with you. He’s also got these really sad yellow glasses. Also, when he was at Luton he used to wear colourful outlandish business suits. That was when he was here though. He might be unemployed now”.

“Good. Anything else which might help?”

“Yeah, maybe. Dave is a big Watford supporter and as far as I know he used to be a regular at the games. There’s a slight chance you might find him there if you get stuck for other ideas. It all depends on whether he’s moved out of the area or not?”

"Okay, that might be worth checking up on. What about relatives? Any brothers, parents, girlfriends? Hell, even ex-girlfriends can often be the key to a breakthrough in these searches".

"No, sorry. Dave was a loner. That's the main reason why I need a pro! There's hardly anywhere to start! The guy doesn't even have Facebook! Actually, he does have a Facebook. He hasn't updated it for months though. I checked a while back".

"That's okay. Not to worry".

Allenby took a few more minor details from me and then signed off. I was paying him £1000 for his basic help with a £4000 performance reward to follow if he could get me Dave’s address. I know I could have asked Darren to try and find Dave at Vicarage Road for cheaper. However, there was no guarantee he’d find him on the one day he was likely to bother trying, and I reckon I’d used up all my favours with Darren for one month anyway.

Back inside the office they were still talking about that damn soap opera.

“I reckon Terry is the father” Brenda said confidently. “It was in his eyes when Jill’s mum told him that Jill was pregnant”.

“Oh come on!” Caroline replied. “You don’t really think Terry would cheat so soon after Beth gave him another chance?”

“He did sleep with Alice though, didn’t he, when Beth was away visiting her grandmother? A leopard never changes its spots”.

"That was only because he found out Beth was sleeping with the milkman!"

"Cheating is cheating, no matter how you dress it up! The fact that Beth was sleeping with the milkman did not give Terry the right to sleep with Alice, especially when you consider that, at the time, Alice's head was all over the place because of the miscarriage".

“Are you two still rambling on about that rubbish?” I enquired, taking a seat again behind my desk. "It's every bleedin' Wednesday morning now!"

“It’s not rubbish!” Caroline protested. “It won two gongs at the Virgin TV awards last year. Not bad for a new show”.

“What did you say it was called again?”

“It’s called Acorn Street”, Brenda answered.

“Let me guess – all the characters are gorgeous and live on the same cul-de-sac, and they all have jobs they hardly ever go to?"

“Well, actually, yeah, as it happens. Hey, you must have watched it!”

“Jesus, give me strength”.

I looked over towards Darren for the expected support on this matter only to be left short. Lo and behold he actually seemed to be too busy working to contribute! Nicky couldn’t contribute because she wasn’t here. In light of the Keane debacle she was taking a few well earned holiday days to get her head screwed on again. She was doing okay in general though; I’d swapped a few texts with her the previous evening.

“Darren” I called over. “Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing to say about this Acorn Street thing? Hey, earth to Darren!”

He finally looked up this time, but in truth he looked a bit spaced out.

“Errr, yeah” he said blankly. “It’s a totally sad show. What do you expect though coming from those two?”

Despite the fact he had now said something I still wasn’t convinced everything was as it should be here. Without warning I got up again and headed over to his desk. Darren lifted his head up to see me coming just a fraction too late and correctly decided he wouldn’t have time to hide what was in front of him

“What have you got there?” I asked.

“Nothing, boss”.

I begged to differ. Squeezed into the small space between my website administrator and his keyboard were a pile of neatly stacked white cards together with a notepad. I’d say the cards were about the size of bank cards, and it was these I focused my attention on.

Deathmatch of the century!

CYRIL DENTON v ALBIE BOOTLE!

This ticket guarantees entry for 1 adult.

Date – TBA.

Darren Simmons (0845 2492199)

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me” I said, putting the card back on the pile. “You’re selling tickets? You’re selling tickets for people to see two geeks answer football trivia against each other? Please tell me this is a joke”.

“Errrr, well......” he began.

Nope, not joking.

‘Christ the Lord’

[ScottleeSV]

02/09/09 - Jack of all trades

In the moment of calm that followed, I sat on the far edge of Darren’s desk and leaned on my own elbow.

“Darren, who exactly are you expecting to sell those things too? Nobody in their right mind is going to buy any”.

“Are you serious? I’ve already sold over fifty, and I’m hoping to sell at least fifty more before the day of the match”.

“You’ve sold fifty? You’re kidding me!”

“No”.

“Who’s been buying them?”

“Loads of people, most of them Luton fans who know Albie and Cyril, but mostly Cyril. Remember, these guys are high profile around here. Thousands of people walk past those port-a-cabins every match day. Everybody knows who Cyril is, and most of them know all about the whole Deathmatch thing”.

I might have been talking to Darren but my body, at the angle I was sat, was facing Brenda. I glanced over towards my secretary now as if challenging her to provide me with an explanation to the madness.

“Don’t look at me” she said with a perplexed look, getting up from her chair. “Coffee?”

“And fast!” I replied.

Caroline’s mobile phone went off at that moment. Normally I don’t think she would have answered it. Right now though she could probably tell my thoughts were too engulfed in the craziness of Planet Darren to notice much else of anything going on in the background. As such, she sneakily dipped her head down behind her monitor and began speaking to whoever had called.

“I thought you knew about how widespread the Deathmatch popularity was?” Darren asked. “After all, you being a former champion and everything”.

“No I didn’t know! Why don’t you explain it to me why don't you?”

“Okay. Well, originally the Deathmatches began on the Hatters Online forums. At first it was just a bunch of fans scoring points off each other, but then some of the really knowledgeable people started going on winning streaks and taking it more seriously. Even then it wasn’t properly serious; nobody back then won more than five to ten games in a row. One day though, and without warning, Cyril registered to the site”.

“And he suddenly started whipping everybody for months on end?”

“It went on for much longer than that, if memory serves me. I think we were still in The Championship when he started! Cyril literally hammered everybody for ages. He was so good that people started questioning after a while whether it was possible he might be cheating. Remember all these early matches were done online. So, one day somebody challenged Cyril to a match in The Souvenir Shop.

Cyril won of course and from then on he stopped playing online. I think he realised he enjoyed beating people face to face more than on a computer. Not only that but it was good for business when people went in the shop to play and watch Deathmatches. Chances were they might buy something whilst they were in there, or if they didn’t buy anything, their eyes would at least be opened as to how good the shop was”.

There was a brief pause in the story at this point, as Brenda rolled into town with a hot steaming cup of coffee for me and a mug of hot chocolate for Darren (his favourite office beverage). Somewhere in the background, Caroline said goodbye to whoever she was talking to and put her phone away.

“Anyway” Darren said, licking chocolate off his lips. “The Deathmatches were being closely followed by a lot of people by that point. People were fascinated to see who, if anybody, would ever beat Cyril. Then though, something happened which practically guaranteed that the whole Deathmatch culture would go down in Kenilworth Road folklore”.

“What?” I asked, despite suspecting I already knew the answer.

“Cyril was beaten of course, and if that wasn’t news enough, he was beaten by the flaming manager of the club! I know you cheated but nobody outside this room knew that, and I didn’t tell anybody”.

“The Luton fans all talked to each other about the time I beat Cyril?”

“Hell yeah! People talked about that Deathmatch for weeks. They talked about it on the forums, in the pubs, on the supporter’s coaches, around the ground. Hell, they still talk about it now! At the time it happened though, poor Cyril heard about nothing else for about a month! People kept popping into The Souvenir Shop to ask him how in the hell James Martin, rookie manager and not even a lifelong fan of the club, had managed to get the better of him”.

“Jesus” I smirked. “I never would have known. I hope Cyril didn’t get pestered too much”.

“No no, people were fine with him. I think most folk were just glad to see that he could actually lose a game by that stage. If anything their estimations of Cyril went up after his dethroning. It made them realise he was human and not some geeky caricature. If you ask me though, your win against Cyril was a big part of the reason large sections of the supporters never got on your back last season, even when you couldn’t string two wins together”.

“You really think?”

“Yeah, I do”.

“James?” Caroline interrupted. “Can I speak to you in private when you’re done with Mr Entrepreneur over there?”

“Yeah sure” I replied, and then refocused on Darren – “Going back to this ticket thing, don’t you think you’ve got enough on your plate at the moment, what with your website work and that other business we talked about recently?”

By ‘other business’ of course I was referring to Happy Harry, but I didn’t think Darren would want me mentioning that in front of Brenda and Caroline.

“I can cope”.

“How much are you selling these tickets for anyway?”

“£5 a pop”.

“Okay, and just where are you planning on holding this magical showpiece occasion? I can’t see either one of those port-a-cabins holding fifty to a hundred people”.

“Relax it’s all been taken care of! As soon as the date is finalised we’re going to book out the sports hall at Wigmore Primary School for the evening, that place you did that classroom talk that time. And before you ask, yes they do rent out the sports hall for functions; I’ve already checked up on it. All I need now is the date”.

“You really are one of a kind, Darren” I said, getting up from his desk.

“Yeah that’s what I think!” he replied with a grin.

I nodded at Caroline to indicate I was ready for her and moments later we were out in the corridor, the door to the communal offices closed safely behind us. I’d lost count now of the amount of private talks I’d had out here with various people since joining the club. It must have been a high total though. Scarcely a day goes by without Caroline, Darren, or Nicky wanting a word with me away from the others about something. Anyway, Caroline....

“James, do you remember mine and Nicky’s friend, Chantelle?”

‘Chantelle? You mean the girl whose ass currently resides in my drawer at home? You mean the girl my Dad thinks I’m dating? Of course! How could I forget her?

“Yeah I can remember seeing her knocking around a couple of times with you guys. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to her though. If I have, it probably would have been brief”.

“Yeah well she’s asked if you want to meet her. You’re not going to believe this but one of her best friends is Leanne Walters of Royal Hotel fame”.

“Oooookay” I said slowly, trying to process the implication. “What does she want?”

“She says she’s got some information about the case”.

“The case is closed”.

“Maybe, but I’m just saying what she said. She wouldn’t tell me what it is; she said she’ll only speak to you”.

I bit my lip and sighed. Between Dave Wheelie, Darren and his ticket scam, and Nicky’s mental well being, not to mention the up and coming trip to Burton Albion, my head was already swimming with all kinds of stuff. Did I really need something else on my plate?

“Do you want me to tell her you’re not interested in what she has to say?”

“No, I’ll meet her. Try and get her to agree to after Saturday though. I’ve got a lot of personal stuff I’m taking care of this week”.

“Okay”.

“Oh, and Caroline?”

“Yes, James?”

“If this is all a ploy of hers to skank some complimentary tickets to the Deathmatch, warn her that she’ll get a good hard slap”.

“Haha, I doubt she’s even heard of the Deathmatch”.

‘I doubt it too. To tell you the truth, this meeting has a slight smell to it that I don’t like’

[ScottleeSV]

05/09/09 - Battle with the Brewers

I’m not having much luck with my fringe interest in sightseeing this season. My latest venture out of the county borders, this time to Burton upon Trent, resulted in me whiling away the early morning in yet another pub. Before leaving I did find at least two potentially interesting places on Wikipedia. However, for some reason both were unsuitable for visitation.

The first one I considered was Burton Abbey. The name of this place alone brought back fond memories of Kirkstall Abbey in Leeds, times spent naughtily hanging out amongst the arches drinking and smoking when I was a rebellious teenager. I turned down the chance to visit Burton’s version on the basis that I couldn’t find much information about it online. Type in Burton Abbey and then Kirkstall Abbey, and note the difference in information provided (and available pictures).

Burton Albion’s nickname of course is The Brewers. They didn’t get this by accident either. Burton the town has at least five different breweries on its books, and until 2008 even had a brewing museum. This was called the Coors Visiting Centre and claimed to be “The UK’s Premier Museum Dedicated to Brewing”. I would have loved to have seen this place, but as suggested above, it’s open no more.

The town football team is yet another one of those small-club-done-good-in-recent-times stories which so seem to have dominated my away notes this season. The Brewers only made it into the Conference National for the first time as recently as 2002. They’ve opened a brand new stadium since then and have consistently looked more likely to climb even further up the pyramid than drop back down it.

Time for me to reveal a quirky fact about myself; I have a weird liking for teams that play in yellow at home. I don’t know why - yellow isn’t even my favourite colour! Over the years though I’ve watched sides on highlight reels such as Southport, Burton, Norwich, Oxford, and perhaps most bizarrely, Romania, and I’ve always wanted them to win. The strange exception to the rule is Brazil. For some reason I've always disliked them.

I think my yellow obsession might partly stem from the fact I could never get into the whole Leeds United culture back at school. I can remember noting how boring the white strip was. Who knows, but if Leeds had played in something more dazzling (like yellow!), I might have ended up following them a hell of a lot more than I actually did. The irony of ironies of course is that I now manage a team who play in white.

You might be surprised to hear it but I’m making changes for today’s game, lots of them. In the interests of keeping everybody fit and healthy in the long run, I’m taking out Gill, Niven, Buckley, and Guy for a well earned rest. None of them have stunk the theatre out in recent weeks but we’re going to play at least forty six games this campaign, and possibly close to fifty five if we do okay in the cups. Besides, it’s a very deep squad compared to the other teams; I want good squad unity.

Keith Keane returns then to partner Nicholls in centre midfield. Now that Keane has officially been given the boot by Nicky, I’m hoping this might refocus him on his football. If it doesn’t then quite frankly I’m soon going to run out of his excuses soon to keep giving him repeat chances. In a largely attacking 4.4.2 this week, Charlie Daniels moves to left wing and Richie Byrne comes back in at left back. The rest of the defensive line remains unchanged.

Up front, Michael Bridges starts and I’m hoping we’ll get a full game (or near enough to it) from him this time. Bridges partners the red hot Scott Spencer. Replacing Will Buckley on the right wing, in an experiment I’m hoping won’t spectacularly backfire, will be Danny Cadamateri. If this confuses you then read on for an explanation...

I was complaining to Brian the other day that the midfielders don’t usually chip in that many goals. He suggested the idea of playing a speedy striker on one of the wings. This way, he claimed, we’ll have three natural finishers in a 4.4.2 formation instead of two. I can see the argument for and against this but it at least sounds reasonable enough to warrant giving it a try. If worst comes to the worst and Cadamateri has a stinker, I can always haul him off the pitch early doors and get Buckley on.

It’s worth noting in the diary that Burton manager Nigel Clough was a top top man today when I met him before the game. Usually I only get a casual shake of the hand and that’s it from home managers. Clough though first gave me a guided tour of The Pirelli Stadium and then sat down to talk about all things non-league with me over a Cappuccino.

He wasn’t down to play today but apparently he still puts a shift in sometimes even at forty three years old! I actually find it quite ridiculous that I’m unable to play at thirty where as he can still play at forty three. Anyway, I suppose the final thing to point out is that going into the game we were in second place on fourteen points where as Burton were slightly lower down on ten. As with the Crawley game I would definitely settle for a point. If we got more than that then great.

The Pirelli Stadium is absolutely lovely by the way. Sure it's one of those purpose built modern stadiums everybody over a certain age seems to hate, but I liked it. My only qualm was outside the four walls. The surrounding area around the ground looks very derelict and bare. The car park seems bigger than it probably is in reality, and the pub I sat in half a mile up the main road felt isolated and strangely lonely where it was sat. Maybe the pre-match nerves were once again affecting my brain?

In other news, Darren has now sold seventy six tickets for the Deathmatch. Chantelle meanwhile has agreed to my request to hold our meeting post-Burton rather than before it; I’m meeting her down The Hatters Arms this Sunday night. I didn’t make it happen consciously but all four of The Royal Hotel Four were in the starting line-up today. I hope I don’t find myself regretting said selections once I’ve heard whatever Chantelle has to say when I see her.

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

Next, BSP action >> Burton v Luton

[salkster2102]

I have a weird liking for teams that play in yellow at home

You will love Stocksbridge then . Still loving this story pal KUTGW

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks Salkster. If Halifax get promoted this season I shall definitely have to try and make it to Stocksbridge when we play them. I don't want to speak too soon though

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

05/09/09, League Match 7

Burton Albion v Luton Town

GK – Dean Brill

DL – Richie Byrne

DR – Claude Gnakpa

DC – Tony James

DC – George Pilkington

DMC – Kevin Nicholls

MC – Keith Keane

ML – Charlie Daniels

MR – Danny Cadamateri

FC – Michael Bridges

FC – Scott Spencer

We began with the same gusto we showed in the first half at Crawley. The game was less than 2 minutes old when Cadamateri won an aerial duel with two defenders to send the ball into the area for Spencer to chase. The 5-goal man then won a key challenge against Webster to go through on goal albeit from a very difficult angle. In fact the angle proved too acute, Spencer’s low shot going across the keeper and wide of the far post.

A minute later though and Spencer was back in the thick of things, laying the ball off to Nicholls in centre mid. Nicholls carried the ball forwards with authority, checking his options left and right. The defenders, expecting a pass out wide, seemed to part and allow Nicholls extra space to go even further. He didn’t need an invitation, suddenly accelerating into the area in an attempt to go all the way by himself. He might have done too but for the slightly mis-hit thunderbolt which was always rising over the bar.

The crowd were suddenly subdued, no doubt wondering if this ‘giant of the non-league’ were about to roll over them. They caught a breather in the 7th minute though when Bridges went down injured and needed the physio. I held my breath thinking he might have to come off but Bridges (with Joe Dunbar’s approval) decided to see if he could run it off. Consequently, I spent the next ten minutes watching more of Bridges then the rest of the match combined.

Not that I missed much. Burton settled down eventually and took the sting out of our play. They weren’t creating anything themselves though so it wasn’t all bad. Our next shot came after 21 minutes, Spencer hammering one over the bar from twenty yards after a neat little spin and turn on the edge of the box.

We got a corner not long after that, and captain Nicholls went over to take it. We were shooting in the direction of the home fans in the first half and Nicholls took a lot of unrepeatable abuse as he put the ball down and prepared to cross it in. When he did cross it, the ball landed on the head of Charlie Daniels. The winger powered a bullet header into the net and we were a goal ahead. That was poor marking.

It was Daniels’ first goal for the club and he seemed desperate to celebrate, taking off like an aeroplane and weaving his way in and out of incoming white shirts. The travelling Luton fans were going absolutely barmy down the other end, screaming “Who are ya?” over and over again. Personally I casually turned to Brian and fistpumped the air without saying a word, knowing full well there was still a long way to go.

The Brewers did attempt to respond in kind but they just couldn’t create anything. They were passing the ball around fluently on the lush Pirelli pitch almost entirtely without an end product. The best they managed in the spell after our goal was to force a corner off Byrne, and that only ended up being tamely shovelled into the arms of Brill at the near post.

With 32 minutes on the clock, Gnakpa went on a blistering run down the right wing and was checked close to the corner flag. Kevin Nicholls went across to take the free kick and I joked to Brian that Daniels would probably be getting marked by Burton’s top defender for this one! If he was it didn’t show; Nicholls once again found the head of the ex-Tottenham man with his cross and the ball skimmed off his head into the far top corner.

Unbelievable.

Daniels decided his efforts this time were worthy of celebrating in front of the bench, and as he did that, six or seven Burton players all held an inquest in the penalty area as to how in the hell they’d managed to be done by the same trick twice. And of course, down the opposite end the cries of “Who are ya?” were back in force. I managed a smile to go with my fistpump this time. Brian happily smiled back.

A lull in play was just around the corner but that suited me fine. There was only one more attempt on goal in the first half and it went to us, Buxton slipping and allowing Spencer in for a clean run on goal. My star striker could have killed the game off at this point but his shot was woefully wide. In fact Spencer was probably our poorest player in that half, failing to hit the target with any of his three efforts.

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

Half time – Burton 0 Luton 2

Martin mood’o’meter – walking in a Daniels wonderland.

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

I spent most of the half time break reminding the players what happened last week at Crawley. Did they listen? I don’t think they did. Burton came out in the second half and immediately proceeded to start marching all over of us. They were shooting towards their own fans now and looked a completely changed side. It was if our players had swopped shirts with their players at half time .

After 48 minutes Gilroy headed the ball infield and Harrod produced a great piece of skill to turn Pilkington without even letting the ball drop to the floor. He then rifled in a volley which beat Brill but not the post. It was close though, closer than anything they produced in the first period. The fans behind the goal all went “ooooh!” and urged their team on.

In the 52nd minute Webster passed it out to McGrath on the left wing. McGrath had space to run into here and Gnakpa couldn’t stop him making the cross. The ball floated up in the air and Brill had no choice but to attempt the punch under pressure from Harrod. It was a poor punch which went diagonally downwards and didn’t even clear the penalty spot. Striker Greg Pearson got hold of it and lashed it over when it was easier to score.

“It’s last week all over again” I said to Brian, shaking my head. “They haven’t learnt it’s a game of two halves”.

“Steady on. Burton haven’t scored yet”.

Famous last words. Two minutes shy of the hour and they did score! This time the play went down the right wing through Briggs. His clever little jinking run (which for some reason reminded me of Di Livio in his prime for Juventus) resulting in a strange little sand wedge chip to the back post. The ball cleared Brill and would have gone just past the far post but for the interventions of Pearson, who slid in to tap home the easiest goal he’ll ever score. 1-2.

I didn’t just stand there like a lemon, I took action. I took the off colour Spencer off and replaced him with Buckley, the idea being that he could also double up as a midfielder to make things more difficult for the nicely ticking Burton machine. I also dragged Nicholls over to have a word with him about geeing the players up. I tried to call Keane over too but he pretended not to hear me. Damn that idiot!

Thankfully though we seemed to regain some element of control after the goal, and play trundled on for a while without further threat against Brill. Burton seemed to get a little bit over-excited after reducing the arrears, misplacing key passes and tackles all over the place. I don’t think their choice of substitutions did them any favours either. Taking the lively Gilroy off with fifteen minutes to go made no sense to me at all.

With 12 minutes to go we won ourselves a corner over on the near side. Keith Keane came across to take and I couldn’t fathom this one either. Surely Nicholls, after setting up two goals with dead ball crosses in the first half, should have been the man to take it? No matter because Keane hit it straight onto the head of Cadamateri six yards out, and he buried a downwards header into the corner. Game over.

As our players all piled onto each other near the byline, Burton once again held an inquest inside the penalty area. Rightfully so too. Even at this level of football, to concede three goals from set pieces is just a little bit ridiculous. Cadamateri isn’t even a tall man. Anyway, that was his first league goal for the club and we were now in the box seat for the rest of the game.

There were more twists and turns yet to come however. A minute later Bridges finally hobbled off after a fairly ordinary game and this time I needed to make the switch, Guy coming on to replace him. Another minute later and Burton were back in the game. I can’t even begin to describe my feelings when Harrod whipped in a fairly innocuous cross only for Tony James to head it (unchallenged) past his own keeper to make it 2-3.

“I can’t believe that just happened” I said, as the home fans went mad behind the goal.

“Final sub?” Brian asked.

“Soon. Let me think about it”.

It was end-to-end for the rest of the way after this, Burton furiously banging on the door and us counter-attacking at every opportunity. I feared the worst when Clough’s men won a corner in the 82nd minute, however it was headed away. Our final change was Gill for Cadamateri with Buckley moving out to the right wing. I was 4.5.1 now and intending to baton down the hatches.

It worked. Burton failed to break us down again, and we even looked the more likely side to score in the closing stages. Guy had a mazy run and shot saved in the 88th and we also had two corners. When the final whistle went I shook Nigel and Brian’s hands and raised my arms to applauding the travelling army from down south, who were all celebrating in the away end and clapping the players. Awesome stuff.

-----------

FINAL SCORE (Att - 1781)

Burton Albion 2 (Pearson 58, James o.g 80)

Luton Town 3 (Daniels 24, 32, Cadamateri 78)

(other scores)

AFC Wimbledon 1-2 Tamworth

Crawley 2-1 Mansfield

Droylsden 1-3 Forest Green

Ebbsfleet 2-0 Kidderminster

Histon 2-0 Macclesfield

Kettering 1-1 Cambridge

Oxford 2-2 Grays

Rushden 1-1 Salisbury

Stevenage 1-0 Northwich

Weymouth 3-0 St Albans

Woking 1-2 York City

[font=Courier New]| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   |[/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 1st   |       | Luton         |       | 7     | 5     | 2     | 0     | 14    | 7     | +7    | 17    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 2nd   |       | Rushden       |       | 7     | 5     | 1     | 1     | 17    | 6     | +11   | 16    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 3rd   |       | Forest Green  |       | 7     | 4     | 2     | 1     | 11    | 5     | +6    | 14    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 4th   |       | Cambridge     |       | 7     | 3     | 3     | 1     | 9     | 4     | +5    | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 5th   |       | Weymouth      |       | 7     | 3     | 3     | 1     | 11    | 7     | +4    | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 6th   |       | York          |       | 7     | 3     | 3     | 1     | 8     | 4     | +4    | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 7th   |       | Stevenage     |       | 7     | 3     | 3     | 1     | 10    | 9     | +1    | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 8th   |       | Grays         |       | 7     | 3     | 2     | 2     | 12    | 7     | +5    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 9th   |       | AFC Wimbledon |       | 7     | 3     | 2     | 2     | 10    | 7     | +3    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 10th  |       | Ebbsfleet     |       | 7     | 3     | 2     | 2     | 7     | 5     | +2    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 11th  |       | Mansfield     |       | 7     | 3     | 2     | 2     | 9     | 10    | -1    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 12th  |       | Oxford        |       | 7     | 3     | 1     | 3     | 13    | 7     | +6    | 10    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 13th  |       | Salisbury     |       | 7     | 2     | 4     | 1     | 10    | 9     | +1    | 10    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 14th  |       | Burton        |       | 7     | 3     | 1     | 3     | 11    | 11    | 0     | 10    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 15th  |       | Crawley       |       | 7     | 3     | 0     | 4     | 13    | 14    | -1    | 9     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 16th  |       | Histon        |       | 7     | 1     | 5     | 1     | 8     | 8     | 0     | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 17th  |       | Droylsden     |       | 7     | 2     | 2     | 3     | 12    | 15    | -3    | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 18th  |       | Northwich     |       | 7     | 2     | 1     | 4     | 6     | 15    | -9    | 7     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 19th  |       | Woking        |       | 7     | 1     | 3     | 3     | 6     | 8     | -2    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 20th  |       | Kettering     |       | 7     | 1     | 2     | 4     | 10    | 13    | -3    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 21st  |       | Kidderminster |       | 7     | 1     | 2     | 4     | 8     | 13    | -5    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 22nd  |       | St. Albans    |       | 7     | 1     | 2     | 4     | 6     | 14    | -8    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 23rd  |       | Tamworth      |       | 7     | 1     | 1     | 5     | 3     | 12    | -9    | 4     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 24th  |       | Macclesfield  |       | 7     | 0     | 1     | 6     | 3     | 17    | -14   | 1     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]

[ScottleeSV]

06/09/09 - Storytime

The Hatters Arms was thankfully rather quiet when I turned up this evening. A lot of the players and staff drink in here on a regular basis, and if any of them were to see me having a drink with a nice looking young blonde girl (Chantelle), rumours might start to circulate that I’d come out of dating hibernation. In fact, in hindsight I don’t know why I didn’t just pick another pub. Too late now though.

“Evening Gav” I said, walking up to the bar.

“Evening, James. Good win yesterday”.

“Yeah it was. We’re doing well so far this season. I don’t want to speak too soon though”.

“You here to meet Brian?”

“No. I’m errr, just meeting a couple of friends for a quick drink – errr Caroline and someone else”.

“Fair enough, so what will it be? I’ve got a new guest ale in if you want to try it”.

I looked down at the beer taps. Sure enough, just to the left of The Tetleys tap, there was a brand new one with the words ‘Acorn of the west’ written on it. The picture below the writing showed what looked like a larger than normal acorn balanced gently on a flat green horizon.

“Yeah go on then” I said, checking my watch nervously.

“Excellent” Gav replied, beginning to pour.

“I’ve said it before though and I’ll say it again, where they get these stupid names for beers I will never know. Now I’m no nature expert, but I doubt acorns are any better in the west of England than they are anywhere else”.

“The name of the beer isn’t claiming that’s the case though is it?”

“Okay fair enough, but do you really think a beer with a stupid name like that will ever get famous? All the famous beers have simple names probably based on people’s actual real names – Tetleys, Worthington, Carling, Carlsberg etc. Can you ever imagine there ever being a commercial with a narrator going on about how Acorn of the West is the official England beer for the world cup? Don’t think so somehow”.

Gav passed me my drink and then patted me on the shoulder across the top of the bar.

“James, you really need to get a girlfriend. You can have that one on the house, by the way”.

“Thanks mate”.

I stepped away from the bar and by instinct headed for the corner where I usually sit with Brian. It was probably a good idea to sit back here anyway. If the topic of conversation for the evening was going to be Royal Hotel related, probably best there would be no prying ears nearby to overhear.

The girls were fifteen minutes late, by which point I already been to and from the bar again to plead with Brian not to start selling Acorn of the East anytime soon (The west version was dreadful). When they did turn up, I waved with my right hand and tried to catch Caroline’s eye, although frankly I was surprised she could even see properly past all that black eyeliner. She really does push that whole gothic thing sometimes. You’d think she might give it a rest on a Sunday evening; apparently not.

Her blonde haired companion was dressed far more conservatively, sporting a thick woolly red jumper, blue jeans, and black high heels. She was actually very fit, a fact I’d noted on past occasions when seeing her around and about with Nicky. Standing next to Nicky though will not get most girls noticed. Stand next to Caroline and you stand out far more, and that was the case here. I’ve actually done Chantelle a disservice earlier on in this paragraph. She looked gorgeous, and it wasn’t exactly a stretch to believe she hung around with strip club models.

I’ll skip a detailed re-enactment of the introduction process. I can’t remember the order of all the hellos and how-are-you-doings and what-are-you-drinkings etc. Even if I could, it wouldn’t make for thrilling reading. The three of us settled down politely and comfortably and that’s all that matters. If I hadn’t been so desperate to hear what Chantelle could possibly have to say about The Royal Hotel business, I might have delayed matters even further by warning her she’d just bought a dud pint (Acorn of the wretched west).

“Okay” she said, setting her handbag on her lap nervously. “I guess I’d better tell you what I know”.

“Just out of curiosity – before you do tell me – why tell me and not the police? As much as I’m very curious as to what this might be, if you’ve got any information about this whole thing you should really be telling the police”.

“Well I thought about that, but I don’t think Leanne would want me to. I don’t even think she’d be that comfortable with me telling you. Besides, Nicky and Caroline seem to like you a lot and I just thought I’d tell you first and let you to decide”.

Caroline blushed during that sentence and looked away, taking a sip of her martini as she did so. I ignored her and beckoned Chantelle to continue.

“Leanne - does coke” she said bluntly. “She’s doing a good job of getting off it now, but up until recently, she did a lot of coke. She used to buy it from the guy who runs Heavenly Hatters and then share it with her boyfriend”.

“Who’s the boyfriend, someone who also works at the club?” I asked, ignoring for now the seeming lack of relevance between this and the rape accusations.

“No. Her boyfriend’s jobless. Well, kind of jobless. He works voluntarily in a church, believe it or not”.

“St Marys church?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I’ve got no idea – wild guess – carry on”.

To steady herself, Chantelle took a sip of her Acorn of the West. For the briefest of seconds she grimaced, and I thought an annoying delay might be forthcoming whilst she buggered off to get another drink. The moment passed though.

“Anyway, Leanne started buying coke on the tab, you know, buying it on credit”.

“Did the other girl do this too, the one called Stacy?”

“If she did I don’t know about it. I’ll come to her in a minute though”.

“Okay, sorry”.

“So anyway, Leanne’s tab eventually started to get out of control. It got to a point just before the summer where she was being asked to repay more money each week than she was even getting in wages and tips. The bottom line was, she was in debt big time and Randy wanted paying. She was really upset and depressed at the time. She couldn’t see how she was going to get out of the mess she was in, and it wasn’t as if her boyfriend or any of her friends were about to help her.

“Randy though – that’s the guy who runs the place – he apparently pulled her aside one night and offered her a deal. The deal was that all her debts would be wiped from the slate if she did a favour for him. If she didn’t do the favour, bad things would happen to her, the kind of bad things which stop you from being able to take your clothes off again. Anyway, the deal would involve Stacy Potts and would also involve some of the club’s visiting clientele”.

I glanced at Caroline and then back to Chantelle again, seconds before sipping my beer. About twenty yards behind Chantelle’s head, I could see a curious looking Gav behind the bar. He was wiping a glass with his cloth, nodding his head absently, and grinning. I guessed he wasn't the only one who thought my new acquaintance was rather tasty.

“What deal did he offer them?” I asked.

“The deal was basically to work together to f__k up your football club” Chantelle replied.

My heart rose two inches inside my body. So there it was then. None of my boys were rapists. They had been telling the truth all along.

‘But who the f__k is Randy?’ I instantly thought afterwards.

Thankfully, Chantelle looked like she wasn't finished.

[kramster]

Just caught up to your story and I must say that it is one of the most intriguing plots and well written stories I have read on this forum

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks a lot, Kramster! That's a very nice thing to hear. Glad you like the tale

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

06/09/09 - It Beghers belief

“Okay, why is it this Randy guy wants to mess up my football club?” I asked, once I’d digested Chantelle’s previous statement.

“I honestly don’t know. I thought he was a bit of a weirdo though when I met him - I was introduced to him once inside the club. His second name is 'Beggar' if you can believe that”.

“His name is Randy Beggar?” I asked in disbelief.

Caroline giggled and put her hand over her mouth. Chantelle merely smiled.

“It’s not spelt like the proper word Beggar. It’s spelt B.E.G.H.E.R, and it's actually a proper second name in some other country like Austria or somewhere. Leanne told me Randy had his name changed to that just to make him sound cooler. You’d understand more if you met him. He’s black and he acts like some kind of pop star. It’s really tragic”.

“But you’ve got no idea why he seemingly hates Luton, even though his sh_tty little strip club has our nickname in its title?”

“Nope. Leanne doesn’t either, and she obviously knows him a lot better than I do”.

I leant back and took another sip of my beer. There were a million more questions I could ask from this point onwards. The hardest part was deciding which to ask first.

“So it’s absolutely definite that no rape took place?”

“Definitely not. Leanne and Stacy were told to pull the players, take them to a hotel, have sex, and then cry rape. Then Stacy would be free of her debt to Randy”.

“What was in it for Stacy?”

“That’s the really sick part. Stacy's a complete bitch. She was just in it for the fame. Randy told her she’d get in all the newspapers once the accusations came out and that it would probably lead to modelling offers”.

“What a tool! The girl’s names weren’t even allowed to go public”.

“I know!”

Chantelle laughed a small laugh, and this time it was Caroline’s turn to merely smile. In the brief silence that followed Chantelle again took a sip of her Acorn of the west and grimaced, and this time it was the end of the line for Gav’s woeful new beer.

“I need to get a new beer”, she said rising from her seat. “This one is rank. Do you want another drink, Caroline?”

“Yeah I’ll just have another one of these” Caroline replied, holding up her empty martini glass.

“Didn’t she also get the first round when you came in?” I asked, once Chantelle had walked away.

“Yeah well I’m kind of broke at the moment. Don’t you remember me telling you a while ago?”

“Yeah but I thought that was just an at-the-time thing”.

“No I’m seriously broke all the time”.

“Really? I don’t mean to pry but Nicky and Darren never seem to be broke and they’re always out partying here, there, and everywhere”.

“Yeah well they didn’t go to uni did they? They probably don't have mountains of student debt they’re being forced to pay off every month”.

Judging by the way Caroline nervously (and stupidly) lifted her empty glass to her mouth after saying this, I immediately guessed I’d hit on a touchy subject. Before I could figure out how to appease her, a text message came through on my phone.

Hi James, it’s Gavin Allenby. Sorry I haven’t been back in touch yet about Dave. I have been devoting time to the search but there haven’t been any developments so far. I’ll be in touch soon with a more comprehensive report

Well that wasn’t much chuffing good. I put my phone away and looked back up at Caroline, only to see that she was now attending to her phone as well. Furthermore, she was typing something. Great. Conversation over.

As an alternative I glanced in the direction of Chantelle, now dipping into her handbag to pay a rather giddy looking Gav the barman. She was nice to look at that girl but she was also intriguing in other ways. For instance, she seemed to have an accent that sounded even more southern than most of the Luton locals. It reminded me of the characters in Eastenders actually.

Also, I found it fascinating that I was sitting here having a serious conversation with her when the only other time I had any memory of hearing her voice was when she had been being all sultry with Darren that time in the Kenilworth Road offices. I’m probably not alone in being predisposed this way, but I tend to find women more attractive if my first ever conversation with them is all serious and professional. I think that’s why I’ve previously written that I’m fascinated by Erica.

“So then” she said on her return, dropping two more drinks down on the table. “Hit me with the next question”.

“Okay. Did Stacy and Leanne actually intend to go all the way with the accusation thing? Was it really a genuine attempt to jail four of my players?”

“I don’t think so. I know Leanne never expected it to work. She was actually relieved when the charges got dropped and she didn’t have to keep up the act anymore. She said she was scared there might be some kind of counter-charge against her, or whatever you call it. She knew all along that rape cases don’t usually get results though. That’s why she went along with it”.

“Surely this Randy Begher guy would have known that too though?”

“Yeah he did, but it was more about getting the football club negative publicity than anything else. He probably hoped the enquiry would go on longer than it did but I doubt he ever thought those players would actually get sent down or anything”.

“Well I don’t think it did too much damage to us, unless you count the damage to Nicky and Keith’s relationship, and that was probably a positive side effect rather than a negative one”.

“Hear hear” agreed Caroline.

“So you’ve definitely got no idea why Randy hates Luton?” I asked.

“Nope”.

“Just another psycho Watford fan probably”.

“What?”

“Never mind”.

“So what do you think?” enquired Caroline after a pause. “Are you going to tell the police or not, James?”

“No. I don’t see the point. Don’t get me wrong, Chantelle, I’m very appreciative that you’ve come here and told me everything that you’ve told me. I just don’t see any gain in telling the police all this, especially now the case has been dropped. If any further enquiries were made the only people who would get into trouble would be Stacy and Leanne, and you wouldn’t want that. Randy certainly wouldn’t get into trouble. I might be wrong but telling someone to push someone off a cliff isn’t a crime”.

“So that’s the end of it then” Caroline stated, supping her new martini. “Time to forget about the whole thing and move on”.

“Not quite” I replied, my eyes remaining on Chantelle. “As far as I know, my players still go to Heavenly Hatters, even in light of what happened. Men and breasts are not easily parted. To get to my point here, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the idea of my players going there when I know that this Randy Begher guy is out to get them”.

The two girls looked at me blankly, so I simplified it for them.

“What if he tries something else? What if he poisons their champagne glasses one night, or gets one of his bouncers to beat one of them up and blame it on a straying set of fingers? What if, god forbid, he sets up another rape accusation? Who’s to say the first one was only put in place to build a better case for the second attempt?”

Still they looked at me in morbid silence, and for a moment I thought they were both going to call me paranoid and ask me if my Acorn of the west had gone to my head. Unbeknown to me though, Chantelle had other ideas...

“You could be onto something there. You definitely could be onto something”.

And THAT was the moment I decided I just had to have her. It was also the moment I decided to ban my players from going to Heavenly Hatters, but I’d get around to that another day.

[ScottleeSV]

08/09/09 - Giddy in Kiddy

Tonight we’re playing away to Kidderminster Harriers, who currently languish 21st in the table. The Harriers are an experienced side at this level though and I fully expect them to finish closer to mid-table (or better) come the end of the season. Back when I was a very young teenager, Kidderminster were one of the first non-league sides I ever read about in the news. This was because of how they were controversially denied entry into the football league after winning the title in 1994 due to ground problems.

Thankfully for the Worcestershire outfit and its fans they were eventually allowed up, but not until after winning the title a second time as further on as the year 2000. Despite a solid enough start, the team eventually struggled to stay in the realm of the big boys due mainly to low attendances and the subsequent collapse of ITV Digital. It took five years but eventually they dropped back down to the Conference, where they have remained ever since.

This is our third away game on the spin and I can’t help wondering if it might prove one game too far, especially coming so soon after Saturday. Our successive 3-2 wins against Burton and Crawley on the road have taken a lot of us physically and emotionally (mainly the latter). I seem to say it every week but I would definitely settle for a draw tonight. If achieved it would carry us into the forthcoming home matches against Ebbsfleet and Mansfield as a still unbeaten side.

(I wonder what Chantelle’s opinion on football is?)

I’m making two changes for tonight’s game at Aggborough. Michael Bridges is out injured for two weeks so Jamie Guy comes back in to partner Spencer up front. I’m also bringing Buckley back in for Cadamateri on the right wing. Danny didn’t do anything wrong against Burton but I have to be wary about tired legs whenever we play three games in eight days, and Danny did do a lot of running on Saturday. Not only that but Buckley looks like a dog ready to be let off its leash after sitting it out at the Pirelli. It feels like the smart move.

It’s a reasonable trek from Luton to Kidderminster so I decided to approach things slightly differently today; I left the car at home and took the train, the intention being to buy a single ticket there and get the coach back with the lads late after the match. I used to love travelling by train as a kid and I’ve carried on loving it even in adulthood. You can’t beat the good old-fashioned experience of rumbling along at a million miles an hour down a train-line gazing out the window at fields and meadows.

Incidentally I don’t want anybody going to Heavenly Hatters when we return, but by the same token I haven’t figured out to tell them yet that they're all banned. Thus, just for the moment I’m going to take the coward’s way out and delay our leaving Kidderminster after the game. Win, lose, or draw, I’m going to stay in the clubhouse (or whatever they’ve got) and insist the players all wind down with a beer or two. That way, by the time we get back into Bedfordshire it should be too late for anybody to want to go out. I’ll let them know about the ban sometime between now and Saturday. For now though we’ve got a game to concentrate on, and I don’t want to mess with that.

(Chantelle is 23 apparently. Now I say this in a strictly theoretical sense, but I don’t think that’s a bad age for a woman when it comes to a 30 year old bloke).

After changing at Birmingham and pulling into Kidderminster train station just after 4pm, it suddenly dawned on me that without a car I was going to find it near impossible to explore the nearby Wyre Forest as I’d intended to the night before. Instead I got a taxi into the town centre and stumbled across the canal. There wasn’t much to do here but at least it saved me from the tragedy of spending yet another away day afternoon in a boozer. I left my Ipod switched off as I walked along the riverbank pathways, as I'd already played it to death on the train.

Just as I watching some old fart mess around with one of the canal locks, I got a phone call from Jock Carney the Dundee United manager of all people. He’s interested in Kevin Nicholls and wants to offer me a five figure sum for the player. I almost said I wasn’t interested because of how central Kevin is to my plans this. Solely due to the club’s dire finances though I said there may be a remote possibility I might be forced to sell one or two high earning players in the near future. I indicated that, should said situation materialise, I might get back to Carney as and when. Ideally though, I don’t want to lose Nicholls at any cost really.

(Is it right to ask someone out who one of your friends has already slept with? Or is that just ‘not done’?).

I’ve heard other rumours too when it comes to various clubs being interested in our players. Carney might be the only person to have actually picked up the phone, but Bob indicated to me in an E-mail yesterday that enquiries have come in over the past fortnight for both goalkeeper Dean Brill and centre back George Pilkington. As in the case of Nicholls however, these are players I don’t even want to entertain the idea of selling.

(It's too soon after Charlotte though really)

(Like it hell it is. Shut the f__k up)

One player I definitely would sell without any questions asked is Michael Bridges. My star man has been injury plagued ever since he arrived so far, and I've got the sneaky feeling this is just going to go on and on for as long as he's here. Bridges is on £3000 per week at the moment and if I could get rid of him, even for no transfer fee, that would be almost half of the 6.75k we're currently overspending every week in total wages. There may still be time for Michael to shape up and put a good run of performances and goals together, but I've definitely got my doubts though. I repeat, if anyone made any offer for him right this second I'd take it.

(I suppose I could ask her out? Or maybe I won’t? Not a big deal either way. It’s not like she’s on my mind or anything).

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Next, BSP action >> Kidderminster (21st) v Luton (1st)

[ScottleeSV]

08/09/09, League Match 8

Kidderminster Harriers v Luton Town

(In brackets below are league and cup appearances, together with amount of goals scored, in games played under me ONLY since I took charge. The stats don’t include today’s game)

GK – Dean Brill (58 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Richie Byrne (5 apps, 0 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (56 apps, 2 goals)

DC – George Pilkington (53 apps, 0 goals)

DC – Tony James (7 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (35 apps, 8 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (49 apps, 4 goals)

ML – Charlie Daniels (7 apps, 2 goals)

MR – Will Buckley (7 apps, 1 goal)

FC – Scott Spencer (7 apps, 5 goals)

FC – Jamie Guy (7 apps, 2 goals)

It was not the pulsating beginning seen in the previous two games. Both teams came out of the traps slowly and I was left to chew over whether that was a good thing or not. The first stab at goal came in the 9th minute, Penn feeding Boland twenty yards out only for the midfielder to lash one wildly over the bar. First blood to Kidderminster then in the shot column.

Our first attempt came after 17 minutes, and it stemmed ironically from a very good move. Byrne and Daniels worked well together to win the ball on the edge of their own penalty area, before Byrne then fed Nicholls in midfield. The skipper then passed it sideways to Keane before charging forwards to give Keane an extra option. Keane though instead fed the ball into Guy, who rather than keep the move going elected to take a pot shot, yanking one awkwardly wide from twenty five yards.

Time ticked slowly onwards and I just had to pass comment to Brian as to how uninspiring and lethargic this all was. My assistant merely responded to say, and not for the first time this season, that I really should be more grateful when we strangle the life out of a match away from home. I replied to tell him he was right, but I also said that I highly doubted we were going to see a third successive five goal thriller.

26 minutes on the clock and a Kidderminster corner from the nearside entered the danger zone. The ball scrambled around like in a pinball machine and it was with great relief Gnakpa eventually managed to get it clear. I was going to have to think of some inspiring half time words if this carried on though. This game was as dull as dishwater; we looked half asleep.

On the half hour mark however, the lid finally came off. When it did it was one of the simplest goals you’re ever likely to see. Keith Keane stood over a free kick thirty five yards from goal and chipped one cleverly towards Spencer in the middle. The Kidderminster defence was nowhere and my leading scorer had all the time in the world to carefully watch the ball onto his fight foot before slotting under Ikeme for the opening goal.

“This might just be the hallmark of champions, playing s__t and still going in front” I said to my assistant.

“Let’s hope so” Brian replied, high fiving Spencer as he moonwalked past us. Hey, great celebration!

Our defence though looked as white as Michael Jackson himself two minutes later. Taylor took a throw-in out on the left down to Boland’s feet. Boland passed it back to him, and from here, Taylor decided to whip one straight into the middle. The angle of the ball made it a straight contest between Thompson and James to see who could get there first. Thompson won and slotted easily past Brill. What a soft equalizer!

But hey! What was this, the linesman’s flag? It was you know! Up it went and the referee blew to chalk off the goal! Thompson had allegedly shirt-pulled James on his route to goal. As the Luton fans cheered and clapped behind that very same goal, the rest of the crowd moaned and growled like dogs. I have to admit, I personally didn’t see any tug or push. That looked a fair goal to my naked eye. Still, you get some go for you and you get some go against you. I’m not going to argue with it.

Buoyed by the reprieve, we surged forwards looking for the second goal. With eight minutes to go until half time, Guy won a crunching tackle with Creighton on the halfway line, poking the ball to Buckley. The winger’s first touch was poor - he kept hold of the ball but only just. Then, after spotting the lung-bursting run of Nicholls from midfield, Buckley threaded a weighted pass through to him to send him in on the goalkeeper. Nicholls rifled a shot in on target but it was at a nice height, allowing Ikeme to push it firmly away.

Sadly for us, we continued down the path of not being able to create two chances in a row. After 41 minutes, a poor defensive header by Byrne was lapped up by Taylor forty yards out. He then fed Boland who in turn fed the speedy looking Knights. From here Knights shimmied to the left of Pilkington before unleashing a vicious daisy cutter which went low into the side netting; hard to tell really whether Brill would have got there in time.

When Guy won a corner for us two minutes before half time, you could forgive me for thinking we had probably made it to the interval with our slender (and largely undeserved) lead intact. Nicholls’ kick though went straight into the arms of the keeper and he wasted no time booting it up the field. Even from here there looked no danger, but a Byrne slip allowed Thompson an unearned run on goal. He took his chance brilliantly, flashing a half volley shot across Brill and in off the far post. Talk about a disappointing way to end the half.

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

Half time – Kidderminster 1 Luton 1

Martin mood’o’meter – Decidedly uncomfortable

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

At least the half time score gave me something to work with in the dressing room. I had almost become sick of telling the players not to get complacent at this stage of a match, only to watch them get complacent anyway. Tonight I urged them on and pounded my own fist like Batman and Robin do, and all that jazz. As much as I admittedly prefer to be two or three goals clear by the halfway point of a match, I’m more comfortable as a manager giving speeches from a position of parity. How can you inspire players when the game is already done and dusted?

My words worked a treat. We pegged Kidderminster back deep in their own half at the start of the second period. In quick succession we forced three successive corners and the southerners behind the goal began to get excited. When Nicholls floated the third corner in, the ball seemed to swerve in the wind. Before anybody knew what had happened, it nestled in the top right hand corner for a remarkable fluke of a goal. When your luck is in....

If there’s been one consistent characteristic in our recent matches however, it’s been the unpredictability of them. Despite looking a beaten team in the first ten minutes of the second half, The Harriers roared back after going behind and started putting us under insane pressure. It began in the 61st minute, Knights taking a pass from Penn and speeding straight down the centre of the pitch. He eventually shot from just outside the area as my defenders moved in to incept him. The ball swerved wickedly but just over the bar.

They weren’t done there. Three minutes later Lowe humped one down the right hand touchline for Henderson to chase. Henderson then danced his way to the touchline and crossed one into towards Knights in the centre. The striker couldn’t quite force it home from close range, but the touch he did get on the ball slowed it down so that Sansara could retrieve it over on the opposite side. Sansara crossed it back in first time and Knights once again won the ball, this time heading into the side netting.

“We’re knackered” I said out loud. “Substitutes, time to warm up!”

“You heard him, let’s go” re-enforced Brian, clapping his hands loudly.

In the meantime, the home side continued to swarm all over us. It seemed only a matter of time before they acquired a second equaliser. Just two minutes after the previous chance, Penn’s attempted through ball out to the wing was deflected purely by accident into the path of Thompson, who now had a run on goal. His composure was awful though, his ridiculously early shot floating a yard over the backpedalling Brill.

And so it continued. In the 69th minute Thompson tried to make amends by playing Knights in. Knights controlled the ball and held it up, before then producing a burst of pace and long range shot. It was a good one too, potentially curling into the top left hand corner but for Brill’s acrobatic leap and tip over the bar. This was getting ridiculous though. Before the corner could be taken, I practically pushed Gill and McCracken onto the pitch without even waiting for the linesman’s permission. Off came Keane and Nicholls. We were now 5.3.2.

I will confess that what happened next had nothing whatsoever to do with my substitutions. As Tony James launched a clearance downfield and Creighton picked it up just past the halfway line, I thought another attack was going to come straight back at us. Creighton though slipped as he went to kick it, and Jamie Guy was on cue to nick the ball off him and head straight for goal. As most of Aggborough were in mid-groan, Guy slotted low past Ikeme into the net for a much needed third goal.

It just shows how much we’d been dominated that I still didn’t feel like celebrating even with a 3-1 lead. That goal though effectively killed Kidderminster’s spirit. They hardly troubled us after that. I made my third substitution in the 75th minute (Cadamateri for Buckley), and in the 77th we almost scored again. This time Nicholls worked it well with Spencer before the latter screwed one much wider than he would have wanted too. Not that it really mattered at this stage. All that mattered now was keeping it tight until the end.

In the final ten minutes Kidderminster mustered one further opportunity where as we had two, and they came about in that order. First Thompson cut inside Gnakpa before firing over; that was their last try on goal. Then in the 85 minute, Richie Byrne hammered a free kick into the wall and wide for a corner. That had only been placed a yard outside the penalty area and the defender might feel he could have done a lot better.

With stoppage time a minute old, a long ball forward by Daniels was comfortably collected by Ikeme. Bizarrely though it bounced out of his arms and into the bemused path of Danny Cadamateri, who rolled it into an empty net. Where is all this crazy good luck coming from? Anyway, Cadamateri embraced the travelling fans behind the goal and they all began to sing “We ARE top of the league, say we are top of the league! We ARE top of the league, say we are top of the league!”

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FINAL SCORE (Att - 1287)

Kidderminster 1 (Thompson 44)

Luton Town 4 (Spencer 30, Nicholls 52, Guy 71, Cadamateri 90+1)

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(other results)

Cambridge 2-1 Woking

Droylsden 2-3 Burton

Forest Green 1-0 AFC Wimbledon

Grays 0-1 Rushden

Macclesfield 1-2 Stevenage

Mansfield 3-3 Ebbsfleet

Northwich 0-1 Crawley

Salisbury 2-1 Histon

St Albans 0-0 Kettering

Tamworth 1-1 Weymouth

York City 2-0 Oxford

[font=Courier New]| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 1st   |       | Luton         |       | 8     | 6     | 2     | 0     | 18    | 8     | +10   | 20    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 2nd   |       | Rushden       |       | 8     | 6     | 1     | 1     | 18    | 6     | +12   | 19    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 3rd   |       | Forest Green  |       | 8     | 5     | 2     | 1     | 12    | 5     | +7    | 17    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 4th   |       | Cambridge     |       | 8     | 4     | 3     | 1     | 11    | 5     | +6    | 15    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 5th   |       | York          |       | 8     | 4     | 3     | 1     | 10    | 4     | +6    | 15    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 6th   |       | Stevenage     |       | 8     | 4     | 3     | 1     | 12    | 10    | +2    | 15    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 7th   |       | Weymouth      |       | 8     | 3     | 4     | 1     | 12    | 8     | +4    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 8th   |       | Salisbury     |       | 8     | 3     | 4     | 1     | 12    | 10    | +2    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 9th   |       | Burton        |       | 8     | 4     | 1     | 3     | 14    | 13    | +1    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 10th  |       | Ebbsfleet     |       | 8     | 3     | 3     | 2     | 10    | 8     | +2    | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 11th  |       | Crawley       |       | 8     | 4     | 0     | 4     | 14    | 14    | 0     | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 12th  |       | Mansfield     |       | 8     | 3     | 3     | 2     | 12    | 13    | -1    | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 13th  |       | Grays         |       | 8     | 3     | 2     | 3     | 12    | 8     | +4    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 14th  |       | AFC Wimbledon |       | 8     | 3     | 2     | 3     | 10    | 8     | +2    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 15th  |       | Oxford        |       | 8     | 3     | 1     | 4     | 13    | 9     | +4    | 10    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 16th  |       | Histon        |       | 8     | 1     | 5     | 2     | 9     | 10    | -1    | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 17th  |       | Droylsden     |       | 8     | 2     | 2     | 4     | 14    | 18    | -4    | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 18th  |       | Northwich     |       | 8     | 2     | 1     | 5     | 6     | 16    | -10   | 7     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 19th  |       | Kettering     |       | 8     | 1     | 3     | 4     | 10    | 13    | -3    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 20th  |       | Woking        |       | 8     | 1     | 3     | 4     | 7     | 10    | -3    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 21st  |       | St. Albans    |       | 8     | 1     | 3     | 4     | 6     | 14    | -8    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 22nd  |       | Kidderminster |       | 8     | 1     | 2     | 5     | 9     | 17    | -8    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 23rd  |       | Tamworth      |       | 8     | 1     | 2     | 5     | 4     | 13    | -9    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 24th  |       | Macclesfield  |       | 8     | 0     | 1     | 7     | 4     | 19    | -15   | 1     | [/font]
[font=Courier New][size=2]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|[/size] [/font]

[ScottleeSV]

09/08/09 - Regaining the feel

Asking a girl out is like falling off a log - you can still fall off it even after several previously successful journeys to the other side. With this in mind, I approached my task this evening with trepidation. I was at home, sat on the sofa, dog on my knee, mobile phone on the small table next to the armchair, the evening soaps on in the background. My concentration though was firmly fixed on Chantelle and the mission ahead.

I remember watching a film years ago called Cliffhanger, in which Sylvester Stallone had claimed “you just lose the feel” when commenting on his recent lack of mountaineering practice. I think it’s similar with girls and dating; no matter good you might once have been, eventually you just ‘lose the feel’. I certainly reckoned I’d lost the feel. I just hoped I’d get it back like Stallone did with his climbing (it wasn’t long after aforementioned quote he was ambling up what looked like the steepest mountain in the world with his bare hands).

Win or lose, it was time to get on with it. I picked up the phone and looked for the text message I’d received from Darren about a half hour ago. Then I grabbed a pen and paper and prepared to copy the phone number down into print.

Hey boss. Yeh I still got her number. It’s 07800 422994. Don’t worry about asking her, she’s a pretty chilled out sort. And yeh I think she’s single but not sure. Good luck anyway!

Of course, all this was okay for him to say. I doubt Darren has ever ‘lost the feel’ since he first got the feel. Not only that but Chantelle is much more his age than mine. Would she be that interested in a man the wrong side of thirty, albeit by not much? Only time would tell. Anyway, if worst came to the worst, I could always reconsider that whole Cassie thing. Or was that too late now?

Putting the thought aside, I dialled in Chantelle's number and crossed the fingers on my other hand.

“Come on answer the phone you silly bi.....Hey, it’s James. I got your number from Caroline. I hope you don’t mind”.

“No, it’s fine” Chantelle replied. “How are you?”

“I’m good. I haven’t got around to banning everyone from Heavenly Hatters yet, but I’m getting around to it”.

“They’re not going to like you when you do!” she said, chuckling slightly.

“Definitely not. Anyway, I didn’t call for that. I called to see if you fancy meeting up for drinks again, maybe in some better places this time”.

“Yeah can do” was the reply, but it sounded cheerful enough.

“Strictly for drinking this time though” I added. “That and being merry, or whatever. Absolutely no talk about rape”.

She laughed again, that kind of low-key laugh women do when they’re trying to appear jolly with people they hardly know. I’m not saying it’s a bad or good sign necessarily, merely something I’ve observed over the years.

“If you’re asking me out for just a drink then I’m surprised. Both Caroline and Nicky have said before that you never ever ask anybody out for a drink”.

“Have they really said that?” I laughed. “Well, that might have been true once, for a while. Not anymore though”.

“Well, I accept anyway”.

“Cool. So what night do you fancy meeting up?”

“Oh, it can’t be this Friday or Saturday. I’m going to stay with my sister. Is a midweek night next week okay? There’s still plenty of places open late on midweek nights”.

“Yeah that’s fine. Listen, I don’t know what you think to this idea but someone was telling me on the coach coming back from Kidderminster last night about a comedy club in Luton. If you want to try that we could get a few beers there and see a few acts or something, depends whether it’s your thing”.

Actually, I hadn’t heard any such thing from someone on the coach last night. In actual fact I’d spent all of this afternoon scouring the net for information on every possible date-worthy venue in Luton. I’d read up on everything from theatres to cinemas to comedy clubs to cabaret clubs to restaurants and even gypsy fairgrounds. I’d made shortlists and long-lists and every other type of list, allowing for every possible permutation of how the phone call might play out. "Chance favours the prepared mind" Travis Dane said in Under Siege 2.

“Yeah that sounds alright” Chantelle replied. “Do you mean The Red Rooms?”

“That’s the one”.

“Yeah I’ve been there before, ages ago. I think it’s open on Tuesday and Friday but I’m not sure about any other days”.

“Next Tuesday is fine if that suits you. We haven’t got a midweek match next week”.

“Tuesday it is then”.

And that was all there was to it. We were ON, and in Stallone language I was now back on the mountain with my bare hands. Completely over the moon by how smoothly all this had all played out, I walked into the kitchen and poured myself an orange juice, my phone temporarily getting the trapped-between-cheek-and-shoulder treatment.

"Excellent. Well, I'll leave you to it then. I've got a dog called Bambi and she's pestering me for a walk".

"Aw, nice name. I haven't got a dog but I don't mind them".

"Cool. So errr, it's still a while until next Tuesday. How about I text you when I definitely know that club is going to be open that night?"

"Yeah that's fine".

"Cool. Okay then. Cheerio for now".

"Bye".

I pressed the red button and put the phone back down on the table. The ordeal was over, and it had been a roaring success.

Without realising what I was doing, I got up from the chair and took control of Bambi's little orange ball with my left foot. It's plastic and in size is about halfway between a cricket ball and a full size football. Anyway, with Bambi yapping and trying to get it off me, I dribbled this way and that on the large Indian rug.

"And it's Martin on the ball" I shouted. "What can he do from here?"

What I did was flick it up onto my knee and welly it through to the kitchen area. The ball smacked harmlessly against the window and fell into the sink.

"He scorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrres!" I yelled, diving onto the settee.

Bambi jumped up onto me and for a few moments we wrestled together in unity, almost as if Bambi had been the one to provide the assist. Then I sat bolt upright and shrugged her off. Something wasn't right about this. I don't mean the wrestling, I mean the flick-up and volley.

"Jesus Christ" I said softly, looking suspiciously down at my knees. "I haven't hit a ball like that for....five years".

I smiled, as much in disbelief as in happiness. It was becoming a very weird night.

[mametz1536]

I love this story - now if the red room was 'the red studio' by matisse it would almost be perfect. Enjoy the date .

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks Mametz.

On a sadder note, this story is in a bit of jeopardy now due to a saving problem. I've made a thread in the I.T forum to try and seek advice (and also posted in FMS general chat). If any P.C geniuses have any ideas I can try, please pm me.

Anyhoo, on I plod. Hopefully it will get resolved.

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12/09/09 - Heavenly headache

Despite the ban on answering mobile phones whilst driving, I still do it time and time again. Today I picked up a call halfway between my house and the ground from Gavin Allenby, updating me on the hunt for Dave Wheelie. To cut a long story short here, Allenby still had nothing productive to report so I sacked him. A salary of £70,000 a year might sound huge to most people reading this diary, but that still doesn’t mean I can afford to blow a grand a week on something I’m getting no return from. I’ve tried the private eye thing for a week and it hasn’t worked. Time to move on.

We were up against Ebbsfleet today at Kenilworth Road, our first home game for quite some time. On paper that might sound an easy fixture but the Kent side have started the season well. Before today’s encounter they were 10th in the league with only two defeats from eight games. That’s a very good record for a side most bookmakers would expect to finish much closer to the bottom than the top. I still fancied us to win today. However, the need to avoid complacency was definitely something worth stressing to the players before kickoff.

When I turned the engine off in the car park, I sat still for a moment and glanced around. Victoria Thornton was sat on the bonnet of her car about thirty yards away. This wasn’t a rare thing; the various newspaper reporters often tried to catch hold of me when entering the ground on a match-day. Sometimes there were would be up to four or five different hacks lolling around depending on the importance of the game. Other times there wouldn’t be anyone here or a number in-between, the latter of which was what we had today.

“Next in our new movie round-up is a low budget horror film” announced my car radio. “This is the debut movie from film school graduate Ricky Page-Tansell. It’s called Death Count, and it proved a surprise hit at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year”.

She might have been pretending to read a magazine but it didn’t mean she hadn’t seen me. Prior to my arrival, Victoria would have been watching the gates without even risking a blink of the eyelids. Then, the moment I arrived, that’s when she would have turned her eyes to the mag. The trick was to wait until my footsteps were close by and then suddenly spring alongside me, as if ludicrously implying that our meeting was a miraculous coincidence, and that Victoria often wandered down to the Kenilworth Road car park for a mid-afternoon stroll in the same way others might frequent the local park to feed the ducks.

“Death Count breaks away from the recent torture porn trend in favour of a return to the old stalk and slash formula. Page-Tansell is a clearly a scholar in the genre, paying homage to several old classics whilst skilfully managing to avoid beating you over the head with said references in the same way the film’s protagonist seems to beat on the whole cast”.

It didn’t sound like a film I would be seeing anytime soon. I turned the car radio off and prepared myself to run the Thornton gauntlet. She wasn’t the cruellest of reporters I’d ever come across but she was certainly the most persistent. If there was a Top Trumps game for such people, Andy Branston would score highest in the meanness column where as Thornton would win on persistence. Tom Trumps for tosspots – it was a ridiculous notion really.

I crossed the car park at speed, resisting the temptation to glance in the direction of messrs Bootle and Denton. Sure enough though, just as I walked adjacent to the lady with the magazine, the sound of my name suddenly cut a path through the early afternoon sunshine.

“James, how about a word on today’s game?”

“Okay. The word is Enjoy”.

“Can I imply from this you’re expecting an easy victory today?”

By the time that was out of her mouth I was already swiping my card in the door. She didn’t speak again and I didn’t look back. She would have been better off feeding the ducks.

The next person I crossed paths with was Brian, pacing up and down outside the home dressing room. Judging by the noises from within, I could tell most of the players had already arrived to get changed. What they usually did was go out for a warm-up, come back in for the team-talk, and then go back out for the proper warm-up ten minutes before kick-off. It was the same at all the teams I was with before Luton, to be frank.

“Hey” he said, looking worried. “Byrne’s a bit worried about his strapping, and Joe Dunbar isn’t anywhere to be seen”.

“Relax, Brian. There’s still plenty of time for Joe to turn up. Anyway, my immediate concern is Heavenly Hatters. Don’t look at me funny when I say this but I’ve decided to go through with the ban and I want to do it now before kick-off”.

“Are you nuts? Why before kick-off? What if they’re so annoyed they play badly during the game?”

“I trust them enough as adults that it won’t affect them during the game. Besides, how will it look if I conveniently wait until just after the match before I tell them? They’ll know it was a strategic ploy on my part”.

“Then wait until Monday, or Tuesday”.

“No, tonight is Saturday night, likely one of the prime nights half the team buggers off down to that damn place. I want the ban in place by tonight”.

Brian leaned one arm on the wall and rubbed the bald part of his head. I don’t think I’d ever seen him look so strongly opposed to one of my managerial decisions in all our time working together. I sighed irritably and waited for the inevitable continuation.

“Okay, so we had a bad situation with the whole Royal Hotel thing” he said, turning back to me. “And yes, maybe this Randy Begher guy doesn’t like us for whatever reason. However, what if it was just a one-time thing? What if he orchestrated this stupid stunt as a one-off and now he’ll just fade back into the background, never to bother us again? Do you really want to upset some of the guys in there by telling them where they can and can’t go on a night? We’re top of the league! We’re on a roll! Why mess with that? At least, why mess with that unless we absolutely know there’s going to be a persistent problem with this strip club place – which we don’t”.

“It might not be just a one-time thing though! Like I told you on the phone, what about the stripper Darren brought back to the office that time? Coincidence, or was he next to be set-up?”

“Maybe he just got lucky? You’ve said it yourself hundreds of times; he’s a player, a real ladies man!”

“And what if....”

I cut myself short, as few yards further down the corridor, some guys with Ebbsfleet tracksuits carrying a bag full of footballs, exited the away team changing rooms and headed off down the tunnel.

“And what if you’re wrong?” I said in a much lower tone of voice this time.

“Then I’m sure the club can deal with it just as easily as it did last time. Look, let me tell you something, James. One of the biggest reasons people like you around here, both amongst the office staff and the playing personnel, is because of the way you balance discipline with giving people a certain level of freedom. It’s one of your biggest strengths. Look, you’ve got the final call here, but this is my advice on the subject”.

I looked him in the eye and for a few moments we stood in perfect silence. Then I walked past him into the changing rooms. As always happens when I walk in, everybody slowed down what they were doing and looked straight at me. Brian followed in my wake and remained by the open door.

“Afternoon guys” I announced. “Stop what you’re doing because I’ve got an important announcement to make, and I want to get it all done and dusted and out of the way before we move into our warm-up routines and all the rest of it”.

[WelshWolf]

I havent read the latest post yet, but I thought that I would comment on your techincal difficulty first.

Could you not go to your save file area and make a copy of the game under a different name? That way you could create a back up without actually having to save it. That to me seems the easiest workaround, however I cant understand why it would not be allowing you to 'save as' etc.

Anyway, bonne chance, I'd hate to see the end of this story as it is so addictive.

Now onto the post...

[ScottleeSV]

Thanks Welsh. I did ponder your idea but even with 100 back-ups, for as long as I can't access 'Load as', I couldn't use them anyway.

I'm considering a few options and in the meantime I've still got one last save file that works. Even if the worst happened though, I would almost certainly pull a Jim/Gav and continue the story on a new file (possibly abroad, which is where I fancied taking things eventually anyway). Still, such talk could be premature. This final save file could last a hell of a long time. We shall see...

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

12/09/09 - Unhappy Harry

“What is it gaffer?” – this from the skip, Kevin Nicholls.

“I’ll tell you what it is, it concerns the Heavenly Hatters nightclub. Now look, I know the recent allegations that were made against Keith, Charlie, Richie, and Danny, all turned out to be false. I know that. However, there are some strong opinions floating around that I should ban you all from going to that strip club to avoid any repeat problems. Convictions or no convictions, innocent or guilty, the club’s reputation gets harmed every time an incident like this happens”.

“It’s not our fault though is it?” Cadamateri scowled. “We were innocent”.

“I know you were innocent, but that won’t be the one abiding memory the public at large takes away from all this. People won’t look back on this affair and think ‘Danny Cadamateri and his chums – the poor innocent men who were heroically cleared of all charges. Instead they’re more likely to think ‘Danny Cadamateri and his chums – typical sex obsessed footballer prima donnas, living life on a knife edge and then complaining when a couple of dolly birds try and stitch them up. Imbeciles'.

A ripple of quiet laughter went around the room and then quickly ceased. I was encouraged to see at least two of the Royal Hotel Four joining in.

“So are you banning us from going there?” asked Richie Byrne, reading between the lines. “Is that what this is?”

“No” I replied after a slight hesitation. “But I will have to make such a ban if we have another incident. It won’t be a ban from visiting any strip club; it will just be for Heavenly Hatters. Now look, I don’t like intervening on stuff like this because really it’s none of my business. Preserving the club’s reputation though is part of my job description - I’ve got no choice but to get involved, even if I don’t like it. I repeat, one more incident and I will have no choice. Is this all sinking in? Are we going to be okay with this?”

“Yeah” said Will Buckley.

“Yeah it’s cool” said Cadamateri.

Around the room there were a few gentle nods to go with the yeahs.

“Okay then” I said firmly, hoping I’d done enough. “Let’s start focusing on the match. Finish getting changed and then get out for your warm-ups. George, you're on cone detail”.

I turned on my heels and walked out through the door, intent on grabbing a coffee for my nerves. I had a feeling Brian would come along with me for this trip and that’s exactly what he did.

“Very nicely done in there” he said, as we approached the stairs. “Not perfect, but it will do for now”.

“It will do if we don’t get any more incidents” I replied.

“Do you think we will?”

“Call me paranoid but yes, I think we will. I’ve just got a funny feeling about this one”.

---------

That wasn’t the final drama before kick-off. As Brian and I reached the technical area fifteen minutes before 3pm, we noticed a guy in a silly polystyrene suit walking slowly away from us down the touchline. Yep, you guessed it, it was Happy Harry.

“No way!” Brian exclaimed. “They’ve brought Happy Harry back!”

“Errr yeah, certainly looks like that way”.

I might have brought my assistant manager into the loop over the Royal Hotel latest (i.e the information I pulled from Chantelle), but I hadn’t been able to tell him about Harry because of my promise to Darren.

“Who’s in the suit, someone from the club?”

“No idea. It might be an outside contractor, you know, one of those children’s entertainer guys you see in Yellow Pages. That would be my guess anyway”.

“Right. Well whoever it is, I bet he feels like a right tw_t. Haha”.

Harry was throwing sweets into the crowd, drawing them one by one from a large carrier bag I’d shoved into his desk drawer a few days beforehand. The younger Luton fans in the stand were scrambling around trying to get their hands on the spoils, where as a large portion of the older generation were jeering and telling Harry to do one. Nobody, I guess, likes to be smacked on the head by a mini dairy milk when they’re trying to read the match programme.

Behind the goal on the far side meanwhile, approximately two hundred Ebbsfleet fans were all pointing at Harry and singing “What the f__king hell is that?” on repeat. On the whole I had to admit this wasn’t the most of return popular of return visits for the veteran mascot. Harry himself was hardly helping matters, skulking along as he was at a snail’s pace with his shoulders drooping and his head facing the floor.

“He seems to be getting quite a bit of stick is Harry, isn’t he?” I remarked.

“Well what does he expect? Look at him. He doesn’t look like he's trying very hard”.

“Hey Harry!” I called out, eventually grabbing his attention. “Try and look more alive! Wave your arms about a bit. Try some waving, and the occasional dance”.

You know what? He might have been smiling at me, but behind the mask I had the funniest feeling Harry wanted to kill me.

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

Next - BSP action, Luton (1st) v Ebbsfleet (10th).

[ScottleeSV]

12/09/09, League Match 9

Luton Town v Ebbsfleet

GK – Dean Brill (59 apps, 0 goals)

DL – Richie Byrne (6 apps, 0 goals)

DR – Claude Gnakpa (57 apps, 2 goals)

DC – Tony James (8 apps, 0 goals)

DC – George Pilkington (54 apps, 0 goals)

DMC – Kevin Nicholls (36 apps, 9 goals)

MC – Keith Keane (50 apps, 4 goals)

ML – Charlie Daniels (8 apps, 2 goals)

MR – Danny Cadamateri (4 apps, 2 goals)

FC – Scott Spencer (8 apps, 6 goals)

FC – Jamie Guy (8 apps, 3 goals)

The only change I made for today’s game was swopping Buckley for Cadamateri. Wingers seem to get tired quicker than other players, hence the constant rotation. I’m not too bothered though because both of these men have already proved they’re handsomely capable of doing a job at this level. There’s even Michael Taylor available to me as a third choice in that position. Anyway, today we would be playing in our usual white home kit where as Ebbsfleet were in red. Both teams lined up with 4.4.2.

We began the match oozing with confidence. You just know a team is on a good run when one of its central defenders runs forward in the first thirty seconds and attempts a long range screamer. Sadly for Tony James it wasn’t to be on this occasion, his firm strike always rising on its way into the crowd, but the spectators appreciated the effort never the less. Afterwards, Ebbsfleet keeper Kirk slowly put the ball down for the goal kick with all the body language of a man expecting a very long afternoon.

The expected onslaught however was not to be. Like practically all visiting teams to Kenilworth Road this season, the visitors put ten men behind the ball and tried to strangle all life out of the game. It’s no coincidence we’d not scored more than two goals in any one home game coming into this match, whereas on our travels we’d scored three or more on three different occasions. Teams in this league view Luton as the Manchester United of the division. They come here and defend – all of them.

As the frustration amongst the crowd started to grow, Pilkington took hold of the ball out on the right and looked up to evaluate his options. The fact Pilkington was helping out in the attack at all is a good indicator as to Ebbsfleet’s lack of ambition. You don’t need four defenders to mark one lone striker standing on the halfway line after all. Anyway, Pilkington’s eventual cross was shielded behind by defender Shakes at the back post for a corner. As many as 25 minutes had elapsed by this stage.

The corner went over everyone and across to the nearside. The ball was then cleared but only as far as Nicholls, who lofted a lovely ball into the path of Cadamateri down the right and with space to run into. Cadamateri crossed it in and the keeper slipped just as he was about to punch/catch the ball, allowing Jamie Guy the easiest of open goal headers from about three yards out. We’d gone in front! The crowd duly went wild and Guy celebrated with a calm punch of the air followed by gentle trot back to the halfway line.

Did Ebbsfleet then attempt to fight their way back into the game? No. Instead, Kevin Nicholls gathered the ball in centre midfield seven minutes later and played another wonderful chipped ball into the path of Cadamateri. This time the striker-cum-winger was in a position to head straight for goal instead of the by-line. Just as the keeper came out to narrow the angle, defender Sasha Opinel came out of nowhere and scythed Cadamateri down. Penalty kick!

Such were the celebrations in and around the dugout, I’d wager that few of us noticed Opinel get booked by the referee for his indiscretion. On the other hand, pretty much all of us noticed super Kevin Nicholls swipe a low right footed penalty into the bottom left hand corner for 2-0. The goalkeeper made a slight move to go the other way but then found himself wrong footed and unable to even leave his original standing position. Still, it’s all immaterial now.

With the game ticking towards half time and the visitors still completely impotent as an attacking force, Keane fed Cadamateri down the right wing. Opinel obviously decided he hadn’t taken a big enough piece of Danny for the penalty, so this time he went in even harder. The tackle was outside the area this time but it was definitely another yellow card. The referee obliged and all of sudden Ebbsfleet were down to ten men. It was the perfect end to a very good half.

-----------

Half time – Luton 2 Ebbsfleet 0

Martin mood’o’meter – Happy as Larry.

-----------

Cadamateri was feeling his groin strain at half time so I took him off and brought Buckley on. The young man got involved straight away once the second half started, galloping down the right wing like a man possessed. His cross was a peach, landing plum in the danger zone and causing all ends of problems for the already traumatized Ebbsfleet players. It was Guy who eventually got in a position to make the first telling swing of the foot, and given he was only three yards out, I kind of expected the net to bulge. Alas, what followed was an air shot, and the keeper gathered the ball.

A minute later, and with the visitors firmly pegged back, James spread the ball out to Gnakpa on the right wing. My right back crossed it in and Charlie Daniels was completely unmarked on the far side. He elected to take it early and unleash a first time volley. It would have been a special goal had it gone in, as the ball was having to come across Daniels to reach his favourite foot. Sadly it whizzed just over the bar like an absolute missile. The Luton fans enjoyed the moment though.

The only question remaining now was how many goals we’d score. Ebbsfleet were falling around all over the place, struggling to contain us. In the sheer haze of endless passes and crosses, midfielder Stacy Long was booked in the 49th minute for clumsily hacking down Keane. On the hour mark, Nicholls won a free kick just outside the penalty area. He elected to take it himself but the effort didn’t clear the wall and was deflected behind for a corner.

Luckily for the Kent club we seemed to ease up after this, more due to tiredness than anything else. The game began to head into its first meaningless rut for quite some time, and it was in this passage of play I happened to notice that Happy Harry was still hanging around. He was leaning against an advertising board thirty yards down the touchline. The mask part of his costume was raised up and he was talking to two nice looking young women sitting in the front row. I could have been wrong of course, but Harry suddenly seemed to look much happier with life.

With 70 minutes gone I took Keith Keane off and brought on Matthew Gill. Five minutes later it was Gill himself – perhaps the only man now wearing white who felt he had something to prove – who took a free kick and belted it only narrowly wide into the side netting. In the 78th minute I replaced James with McCracken and sat down in the dugout content that my work for the day was done. It was done. Ebbsfleet hadn’t had a shot all game and they didn’t end up getting one before the end either.

The atmosphere in the final quarter of the match was rather subdued. The home faithful were obviously happy at the score-line but they were also bored s__t-less by what they were watching, and I could tell they were disappointed we hadn’t added more goals since the sending off. I think the players though just didn’t have any great motivation to run their feet into the ground. There was no way the visitors were going to pull back two goals today. They were poor, very poor.

There was one final chance before the end, and it came in injury time. Buckley went on a great run down the right hand side and crossed the ball in for Jamie Guy, who powered a firm header back across goal. The keeper was completely wrong footed but the ball missed the far post by about a millimetre and went out for a goal kick. No matter – the final whistle went soon after, and with it, confirmation of a fifth straight league victory. Happy days.

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

FINAL SCORE (Att - 4776)

Luton Town 2 (Guy 26, Nicholls 34pen)

Ebbsfleet 0

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

(other results)

Cambridge 3-2 Weymouth

Forest Green 0-1 Burton

Grays 1-0 Woking

Kidderminster 2-3 Crawley

Macclesfield 2-1 Rushden

Mansfield 4-4 Stevenage

Northwich 0-3 Histon

Salisbury 2-3 Oxford

St Albans 1-3 AFC Wimbledon

Tamworth 2-1 Droylsden

York City 3-0 Kettering

[font=Courier New]| Pos   | Inf   | Team          |       | Pld   | Won   | Drn   | Lst   | For   | Ag    | G.D.  | Pts   | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 1st   |       | Luton         |       | 9     | 7     | 2     | 0     | 20    | 8     | +12   | 23    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 2nd   |       | Rushden       |       | 9     | 6     | 1     | 2     | 19    | 8     | +12   | 19    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 3rd   |       | Cambridge     |       | 9     | 5     | 3     | 1     | 14    | 7     | +7    | 18    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 4th   |       | York          |       | 9     | 5     | 3     | 1     | 13    | 4     | +9    | 18    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 5th   |       | Forest Green  |       | 9     | 5     | 2     | 2     | 12    | 6     | +6    | 17    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 6th   |       | Stevenage     |       | 9     | 4     | 4     | 1     | 16    | 14    | +2    | 16    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 7th   |       | Burton        |       | 9     | 5     | 1     | 3     | 15    | 13    | +2    | 16    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 8th   |       | Crawley       |       | 9     | 5     | 0     | 4     | 17    | 16    | +1    | 15    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 9th   |       | Grays         |       | 9     | 4     | 2     | 3     | 13    | 8     | +4    | 14    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 10th  |       | AFC Wimbledon |       | 9     | 4     | 2     | 3     | 13    | 9     | +4    | 14    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 11th  |       | Oxford        |       | 9     | 4     | 1     | 4     | 16    | 11    | +5    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 12th  |       | Weymouth      |       | 9     | 3     | 4     | 2     | 14    | 11    | +3    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 13th  |       | Salisbury     |       | 9     | 3     | 4     | 2     | 14    | 13    | +1    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 14th  |       | Mansfield     |       | 9     | 3     | 4     | 2     | 16    | 17    | -1    | 13    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 15th  |       | Ebbsfleet     |       | 9     | 3     | 1     | 4     | 10    | 10    | E     | 12    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 16th  |       | Histon        |       | 9     | 2     | 5     | 2     | 12    | 10    | +2    | 11    | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 17th  |       | Droylsden     |       | 9     | 2     | 2     | 5     | 14    | 18    | -4    | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 18th  |       | Tamworth      |       | 9     | 2     | 2     | 5     | 6     | 14    | -8    | 8     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 19th  |       | Northwich     |       | 9     | 2     | 1     | 6     | 6     | 19    | -13   | 7     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 20th  |       | Kettering     |       | 9     | 1     | 3     | 5     | 10    | 16    | -6    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 21st  |       | Woking        |       | 9     | 1     | 3     | 5     | 7     | 11    | -4    | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 22nd  |       | St Albans     |       | 9     | 1     | 3     | 5     | 7     | 17    | -10   | 6     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 23rd  |       | Kidderminster |       | 9     | 1     | 2     | 6     | 11    | 20    | -9    | 5     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]
[font=Courier New]| 24th  |       | Macclesfield  |       | 9     | 1     | 1     | 7     | 6     | 20    | -14   | 4     | [/font]
[font=Courier New]| ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------| [/font]

[ScottleeSV]

15/09/09 - The Red Rooms

I arrived at the aptly named The Red Rooms (yes, most of all the furnishings were red) on Tuesday evening feeling extremely chilled out, and why not? You don’t go from a position of single and happy to looking and desperate overnight. I was interested in my date for the evening sure, and I’d certainly been looking forward to meeting her again. As to the potential success of the occasion; well, if it went well then good for me. If it didn’t, that was fine too.

I’d not been to a proper comedy club before tonight, but I wasn’t surprised at the layout of the place. The venue, which may or may not be typical of all such places, was basically a large carpeted function room with a stage at the front. The notably long bar was on the opposite wall from where the stage was, and between them both were countless tables and chairs. There were maybe a hundred tables in all. It was a fairly large place compared to most pubs anyway.

Chantelle wasn’t there when I got there. As I ordered myself a pint at the bar, I wondered whether it might have been politer to have waited outside for her. The entry fee had been £10 to get in, and that’s quite a steep price for a girl to pay right at the start of the evening. Still, the location had been her idea, and she said she’d been once before. With any luck she’d come prepared.

“Hey” said a voice from behind me, quashing my fears that she wouldn’t come prepared. “How are you?”

"I'm good thanks".

And to prove it, I bought her a drink. Like me Chantelle seemed to have taken a fairly relaxed approach to the evening, choosing white trousers and a glittery purple top over anything more ‘after hours’. She’d made an effort certainly, but not a ridiculous effort. I was grateful. Clutching our pints we eventually made our way over to a table by the wall. The night’s first act had yet to hit the stage.

“That’s better” I said, sipping my Fosters. “Bless Gav and his guest ales but for guaranteed taste you’ve just got to go commercial, I’m afraid”.

“He does some have some good ones now and again”.

“He does, but I didn’t think that many women drunk pints”.

“I only started doing it to save costs. I’m a slow drinker and one pint lasts me ages compared to other things like shots and Malibu and the other stuff I used to get when I first started going out”.

“Well don’t worry about cost tonight. I’ll buy you a few”.

“No it’s okay you don’t have to do that”.

“No no, I owe you a few drinks anyway! It was very useful information you gave me the other night! In fact, the very least I can do is buy you a few drinks”.

She smiled and rested her chin on her hands. Whilst she did that I briefly looked at her long straight hair and tried to work out if the blonde was bleached or not. It didn’t matter much; either way it still looked gorgeous. She was a gorgeous girl on the whole really. So long as she didn’t turn out to be a pain in the ass (perhaps for some as yet undiscovered reason), I reckoned I could do a hell of a lot worse in life. It was early days yet though.

“So what do you for a living when you’re not sleuthing around gathering delicate information for football managers?”

“Nothing at the moment. I am looking for a job though”.

“What sort of thing are you looking for?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t poking my nose too much.

“Well, I used to work in a supermarket. I didn’t like it though. The money was rubbish and it was just horrible having to be there. I want to work in a travel agency ideally or maybe even the airport if something came up. I love anything to do with travel, and I’d get a lot more money doing an office job like that. Caroline’s been helping me learn some computer skills. I’m getting quite good now”.

Okay, so that didn't exactly paint her as brain of Britain. At least she had some trace of ambition though. Lesser women, I suppose, would have stayed in the supermarket.

“I’m sure you’ll get to where you want to be” I said, smiling an encouraging smile.

“Yeah I’m sure I will. Failing that, there’s always porn films”.

For a moment I thought she was serious, but then she giggled and I joined in with her. So far then we had a gorgeous girl with a sense of humour who wants to work in a travel agency. That wasn’t bad for starters. As the compere marched on stage to appreciative applause from the crowd below, I quickly reflected that I was definitely happy with how the first mini-segment of the evening had gone.

“Welcome to The Red Rooms, both regulars and newbies” said the compere, drawing more huge cheers. “Have we got a line-up for you tonight! In fact, it’s so good, I’m not going to waste any time trying to be as good as them. So, without further delay, let me introduce you to our first act of the night. He’s a comedian all the way from Barking. Very appropriate really because let me tell you, he is absolutely barking mad. Please welcome, the delightful Freddy Fryer! Yes, Freddy Fryer, ladies and gentleman! Freddy Fryer!”

On walked a guy dressed a little bit like Super Mario, only he didn’t have a moustache. In the other direction went the much more smartly dressed compere, wearing a tuxedo. As Freddy reshuffled his microphone stand and prepared to get going, Chantelle moved her seat closer to mine so she was at a better angle to see the stage. Our bodies were almost in touching distance now; I liked it.

“So then”, said Freddy, eyeing the audience with a smile. “Rednecks. They’re a funny breed aren’t they? You know, I was on tour in America a few months back, and whilst I was there I found myself in this typical redneck bar. You know the type. Anyway, who comes on the little portable TV behind the bar? Bill Gates, talking about his latest Windows, you know......what double glazing he has in the kids room and all that”.

A brief chuckle went around the audience. Chantelle laughed too.

“Anyway, the barman, a typical gruff redneck who'd probably never even heard of double glazing, immediately turns the TV off. I said to him - ‘Why did you do that?’, so he says - ‘Son, Bill Gates ain’t one of us, and he’ll never be one of us”.

Freddie’s hillbilly accent drew another titter from around the room. My left arm and Chantelle’s right were practically vibrating against each other every time there was a gag, and as it happened there were about to be a whole sequence of gags rolled into the one space.

“Now this got me thinking, what if Bill Gates actually WAS a redneck? I mean can you imagine it? The Windows 95 emblem would be a confederate flag......Instead of the ‘de-na’ sound you hear when you boot up your machine, instead you’d hear duelling banjo’s.....The Windows Theme song would be Achy Breaky Heart! It’d be horrible! ......Instead of an hourglass icon there’d be an empty beer bottle.......And I don’t even want to imagine what the shutdown noise would be, probably a voice announcing - ‘Y’all come back now, ya hear?”

Freddy broke off to take a sip of water, and the crowd all clapped what they obviously thought was a joke well told (and finished). I looked at Chantelle and we laughed together, briefly holding each other’s glare in the process

After Freddy Fryer was eventually done there was a brief break before the second act. It was during this time I fetched myself and Chantelle another couple of drinks and we yakked some more about this, that, and the other.

“I’m surprised nobody in here has noticed you” she said. “I doubt many Luton managers have come here often over the years”.

“Oh I’m not that famous, even in Luton”.

“You didn’t have to get me another drink you know. I’ve not even finished the first one”.

“Wouldn’t want you to run dry halfway through the next act”.

“You’re very nice you know. You’re kind, I mean. That might sound dorky but it’s true. Was it true what you said about this being the first time you’ve come out for a drink with someone for years?”

I looked at her and changed my seating position slightly, trying to look calm and collected.

“If you mean out for a drink with anyone I’ve found attractive then yeah it has been years. Only two years, I think, but years never the less”.

“Must have been a bad break-up if it made you stay off women for that long”.

She was delving deep all of a sudden, but I didn’t mind. Deep conversations tend to last for a while. On the other hand, short conversations about simple things like the weather tend to last of all twenty seconds and then you’re left searching for something else to say.

“It was definitely painful” I confirmed. “What happened is a long story though, and I doubt we’ve got long until the next act comes on”.

“You could always start the story now and finish it during the next interval? That way it would be like a cliff-hanger for me when you have to stop halfway through”.

Politely she smiled after saying this, trying to keep the mood as light as possible. I smiled back and looked down at the tablecloth. Then I looked back into her eyes and nodded.

“Okay then, I’ll tell you the story that led to my abnormally long time in dating hibernation. Let me just warn you first though there are easy break-ups, there are difficult break-ups, and then there’s the way me and Charlotte ended.....”

[ScottleeSV]

21/01/08 - It's a nice day to start again

About eighteen months before I caught Adam Sanasy snorting coke in the St Marys toilets, I visited a different church, one in the Leeds area. This occasion was a far more sombre affair. It always is when eighty or so family and friends are huddled together in near silence, and the only things you can hear are sniffling and condolences. Life deals some cruel blows sometimes.

I was supposed to be grieving on this day like everybody else, but mostly all I felt was embarrassed. There were close to a hundred souls in this room and I barely knew five of them. How long had I been associated with Charlotte? Two and a half years? It must have been something like that. How could I have known her that long and yet still feel like a complete stranger amongst all the never-ending branches of her family tree? I had been her nearest and dearest, and yet here I was sat on the back row, hardly anybody talking to me. Even Steve had pi$$ed off out back for a fag.

Indeed there seemed to be only one decent bloke in this cavernous and draughty room right now (Steve excluded), and that was Charlotte’s Uncle Paul. This guy, who I’d never met before today, was the only person actually acknowledging my presence. He’d even asked me earlier if I’d wanted to get up and say a few words at some point. I said it would be my pleasure to say a few words, and to just let me know when.

“Now we shall move on to another speech” said the stony-faced vicar when it was my turn, just after everybody had finished mumbling their way through the hymn – His Glorious Soul. “I do believe there’s a James amongst us who would also like to come and say a few words. James, as you all know, was Charlotte’s fiancé”.

As I got up and headed to the front, I actually batted away some fears that hands might go up in objection. They didn’t though, and in a few short seconds I was up on the podium straightening up the microphone. At the back of the hall, Steve re-joined the room and held a standing position in the rear, arms crossed.

“Hello everybody. I errrr..I don’t think that many of you knew me but I was Charlotte’s.....anyway, I doubt I’m going to be very good at errr.....expressing myself over this. Obviously it’s a very difficult situation for everybody and.......”

Everybody was looking at me really blankly. Even Charlotte’s mother, who I’d met quite a few times before and actually got along well with, seemed to be boring her eyes straight through me. It was as if she was on another planet, and I was just getting in the way of her being able to properly focus on that other planet. I quickly looked at Steve for inspiration and he waved his hand like a conductor, encouraging me to just keep going.

“I suppose err, well, for me anyway, it’s helpful to remember some of the good things about Charlotte. Not that I’m saying there were any bad things about her, particularly. Well I mean, there were bad things but then everybody has faults. Charlotte was normal in that regard. What I meant was, it’s good to remember the good things about her because that’s in essence...what she was...good”.

Steve buried his head in his hands and began to shake his head. In the second row, a middle aged woman tutted and looked to the heavens.

“Anyway” I said, trying to smile. “You know it’s funny, but there was this one time me and Charlotte were having an argument about toilet rolls...”

I paused again. It was no good. This just wasn’t working.

“I’m really sorry but I’m going to have to pass on the baton”.

My brief goodbye spoken, I left the podium and walked straight outside. Nobody muttered or said anything as I left; most of them were all too busy in their own little dream worlds, I guess. Steve followed me out at least. That was something.

Outside it was sunny but cold, par for the norm in January. We were on a small gravel path now which weaved its way through a variety of tombstones and gravesides. Steve got his cigarettes out again and offered me one. I took one without thinking and then leaned my neck towards him so he could light me. I wasn’t a regular smoker but this didn’t seem like the most appropriate day to worry about cancer.

“That could have gone better” he said, stating the obvious.

“I wasn’t upset in there, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just felt like a prat. I shouldn’t have come really”.

“No you were definitely right to come. Even I felt obliged to come, and I was only her part-time friend!”

“Well I’m glad it’s over, because I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not going back in there. I’m going to finish this cig and then I’m off home”.

“Fair enough, mate”.

Between puffs I noticed a large dark green car parked just beyond the front gates at the bottom of the path. A chauffeur was stood leaning against the back door, and he was looking at me.

“Well I’ll be damned” I said. “That’s Charlotte’s dad’s car. I bet he’s sat in it. I can’t believe he hasn’t bothered to come in”.

“Things are probably too difficult for him, I imagine”.

“Listen, Steve, I’ve been thinking. It’s time we stepped up our game on the job hunt and I’ve had one or two ideas as to how.....”

“James” he interrupted, holding his hand up to stop me. “This isn’t the time or the place, mate”.

“Yes it is!” I said, throwing the rest of the cig away. “Today’s a day for moving on, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Now do you want to hear about my idea or what?”

“Okay” he sighed, deciding to appease me. “What’s your idea?”

“Nothing you probably didn't think of yourself before now. I think we should expand the search, apply for jobs all over the country and not just in the north”.

“Oh come on mate, I’m not managing a team in some southern s__thole somewhere. We agreed that for as long we’re in the non-league, we’d stick to northern clubs”.

“I know we said that but it’s not like we’re having much luck so far. I just think.....”

“James, no offence mate but judging by the timing of this 'idea', it just sounds to me like you want to run away and get away from here. Or some s__t like that”.

“No, it’s not like that! You’re forgetting that....”

Not the first time I was interrupted, but this time it was by the chauffeur of the dark green car. He’d walked up to us on our blind side. From inside the church meanwhile suddenly came the unmistakable sound of another dreary hym.

“James?” said the newcomer, grimacing as if in discomfort from Steve’s smoke.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Charlotte’s father would like to see you. He has something very important to discuss. Do you have a few minutes to come and sit in the car with him?”

Steve and I briefly looked at each other and then I turned to face the chauffeur.

“Yeah, fine”.

“James” said Steve, throwing his butt on the floor and stomping on it. “I’m going to head off. I’ll call you later and we’ll talk about it then, okay?”

“Yeah, okay”.

Away he trundled, and in a slightly different direction, off trundled me and the chauffeur to the dark green car. I wasn’t looking forward to this little meeting anymore than I had the service.