An American Pilgrimage (vbulletin edition)

[O\'Hara_fan]

First time I've actually smiled whilst reading a story, feel really good for that first win for you, almost as if I were you so to speak, well done and keep up the good work.

I bet you that will shut Fenton up.

[Thepathtoamen]

Get in!!!!!

[viperk1]

Fantastic stuff, copper. KUGTW, and make sure that, for goodness sake, you win again next match.

[robterrace]

First time I've actually smiled whilst reading a story.

So it wasn't just me that was grinning like a loon when reading that..

[SCIAG]

Get in there!

I've found you a player. Name of Cristiano Ronaldo. He's twice the player of our next best centre back, and could go on to become a decent League 1 player. Only problem is his fee. You're looking at upwards of £50,000,000. Better ask for more funds. Where's my cookie?

[blowcrapup]

Nice One!!

[Thepathtoamen]

how many more points does he need to keep his job?? or have we made 6? I thought we were on 5?!?

[Celtic_1967]

copperhorse, this story is fantastic, i'm only at chapter 24, but I don't want to stop reading. It is however nearly 3am and I got to work tomorrow. looking forward to catching up.

This is about the only story that has held my interest for more than the opening couple of posts.

KUTGW!

[copperhorse21]

Gentleman, I'm glad you got as involved as I was at the time of match play.

SCIAG: I've already got a look-alike Ronaldo with my 16 year old midfielder, Calvin Boateng. Besides, Ronaldo's agent informed me that Boateng's annual salary is less than Cristiano's per match appearance fee. More scouting reports like that and I'll be sending you off to Greece to find me a club to buy...

Celtic: Truly am moved by your dedication to my cause and am glad you are finding it worthy of your time. I hope it continues to reel you in and entertain. Please, let me know when you finally catch up.

Chapter 85

Tuesday, 26 August 2008, Administrative Office, Croft Park

Bobby welcomed me into his office with open arms. It felt strange getting a hug from my owner, but as soon as he opened his mouth, I realized why he was so excited. "Copper, spectacular! Absolutely fabulous! It was just a matter of time before you'd get your first win. I'm thrilled you did it in front of a home crowd."

I had to admit, it did feel really good. My shoulders felt a million pounds lighter and my spirits were still tripping the light fantastic into the wee hours of early morning. Although I'd just come off two hours of sleep, I didn't feel any ill effects. How could I?

"Bobby, I'm just glad I had the chance to win it. You've been more than patient enough with me. Many times, I've wondered why you've kept me on, but I kept wishing you'd still remember your deal with me."

"Copper, I know you can manage. I've heard you in the dressing room too. You've got a way with words. I watch the players respond to your comments and I see the results on the pitch. You can't buy that kind of motivation. You either have it or you don't. Early on, you seem to have it."

"It took long enough for the win to happen. I'd about given up all hope of making it so."

"It's natural to press even harder to overcome failure when you're so close to victory. We've been banging on the door, but the bouncer won't let us in, even though we've paid the cover charge."

"Not only that, but I've got the beauty on my arm in Robin to persuade him to let me enter."

Bobby smiled and said nothing. He went back to his desk and showed me the morning paper. "Care to take a gander?" he offered.

I stared again at the headline, "Copper Ends Streak of Futility". Not the most flattering remark to make, but I wasn't about to fault them today. I'd save that for another.

It went on to document how we'd managed to eek out a victory despite having my captain riding the pine for another match. The match report was a fair assessment of the ebb and flow and I couldn't complain about that, however, I wanted to contest the final sentence. It read, "Copper's lack of professionalism following the victory was frowned upon by former staff, Harry Dunn and Graham Fenton." It went on to describe my joyful exuberance following the longest dry spell in my career. I could care less. I was excited and I expressed it. I was here and they were gone. Hell, if these northeasters didn't ooze passion, then what the hell was the point? I thought it was the passion they had for all things football that made it worth the agony of everyday life in the first place.

"Screw the reporters and former staff." I spat.

"Before you get all high on your horse, you've got to remember that you've not given them a lot to cheer since your arrival. Trust me, if you can keep winning, you'll win them over."

Aye, there's the rub. Keep winning. We play Hyde next. I'm sitting on five points. We must get a draw for us to hit six. Hitting six is one half of keeping my job. Turning a profit in the month of August is the other. Considering that we only had 220 spectators show up didn't help matters.

"I don't think I'll ever win Fenton over. Let's change topics, please. Bobby, where are we sitting with the money?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I truly do."

"You're all set in that area by a narrow margin. Just make sure you get at least a point and you've got my full blessing to stay on as long as you want."

It felt great knowing that our friendly against Middlesbrough at the start of the month saved us. I'd have to thank Neil Baker again for suggesting throwing that friendly in at the las moment to give us a good start on our finances this month. I owed him more than I could repay. However, having money only solved half my immediate problems. We still needed to beat Hyde and we desperately needed a midfielder who could turn the tide during match play.

Thinking again about the Board, I asked Bobby, "What about the rest of the board? Do I have their full blessing?"

Bobby paused again, saying nothing. "Let's just take it one match at a time, shall we?"

A bit of panic slipped into my conscious thought once more. Back to normal at the club, despite the dramatic victory.

I shrugged the panic away, hoping to regain some of the confidence from the night before. Looking to Bobby for more nonverbal clues, I asked, "Bobby, are you up for a pint?"

"Right now?"

"No, not this early in the morning, but how about around lunch?"

"You've got yourself a deal."

"Do you mind if I bring my staff, too?"

"Great idea, but I'm not buying."

"No sweat, I've got the first round."

"Just make sure it's Carlsberg. I don't want to be seen drinking anything else. Who knows who'll tell the sponsors and we need all the money we can get."

I didn't know and I didn't care. I needed to hash out with my staff whether we'd play for the win and risk losing it all or play for the draw and risk coming up short.

[SCIAG]

Ok, ok, I saw this old man score a wonder goal in the park. He claims to be a former England international. Name of Fulham, or something like that. I asked him if he'd be interested in playing for you, and he says he'll consider it. Meanwhile, I've got a phone number for a Brazilian wonderkid. Name of something like Edson Arantes do Nascimento. Bit of a mouthful, could he do with a nickname? I'd suggest Chesterfan2.

I really want a win against Hyde. Stuff the Premier League, this is what football's about!

[Celtic_1967]

ok, so I caught up this morning. Top quality stuff. Saves me buying a book

[mark wilson27]

Top quality as always copper.....

[viperk1]

ok, so I caught up this morning. Top quality stuff. Saves me buying a book

Amen to that - brilliant stuff copper! I just hope that you keep your promise (albeit drunken).

C'mon! Blyths on the up! (I have been in fact, watching where Blyth have been doing this season - 4 wins and 8 defeats...>_<)

KUTGW!

[O\'Hara_fan]

Your lucky Bobby is as patient as I was waiting for a Spurs win. The directors need a little whack over the head, but asides from that, great stuff.

[copperhorse21]

Thanks for the views.

Here's the latest news...

Chapter 86

Wednesday, 27 August 2008, Training Field, Croft Park

Goulon's due to finally arrive tonight and I'm antsy to see if he lives up the scouting reports his fellow teammates have provided me. We desperately need a tangible force in the middle of the pitch clogging things up defensively and freeing things up offensively.

Craddock called me just before we headed to the pub for lunch to announce his verbal agreement. I told Bobby and he canceled out coming with us to work out the final as soon as possible so we could get him acclimated faster.

Therefore, it was Baker, McMillan, Ferguson and I who drank our lunches while we worked on resolving team issues.

The first issue was what we should do with Hyde this Saturday? McMillan and Baker wanted to be conservative in our tactical style. Ferguson and I don't want to wait for some damn official to muck up a call and leave me packing so we want to attack and attack and attack some more. We couldn't resolve it so we tried issue number two on the informal agenda.

The second issue was what to do about Fenton's comments in the press regarding my very short tenure at Blyth. Since our match against Hyde was at Ewen Fields, Fenton and his entourage would surely be present and in full chorus.

I resent Fenton's presence. I banned him from the clubhouse so he showed up at home matches. Bobby banned him from home matches so he showed up at all of the away ones. My staff takes turns running block for me at away matches so he runs to the papers with dissenting remarks regarding my reign at the club.

We agreed that he's full of sh*t regarding the current state of things at Blyth. Adding Goulon would surely help, but how much he would help us was a whole different matter which left us even more confused as to an effective strategy to blend our players.

Goulon was French. We only had English, Scottish, and one New Zealander on the current squad. We wondered how the language barrier would affect his teamwork. Ferguson and McMillan, both Scots felt that their fellow countrymen Donachie, Brawley, and Smith could handle things well on their own. Baker and I wanted the best for the team regardless of nationality. The Scottish staff suggested tabling the matter until we actually saw him play and we agreed to wait and see for the moment.

I've been a strong advocate of playing my best players in the center of the pitch. Adding Goulon to midfield would help anchor the center of the pitch because Hines and Grounds can both play central defenders. Craddock is already in the middle of the pitch up front so Goulon could link up nicely through the middle without risking spreading out our players wide on the pitch leaving us exposed for easy poaching on the counterattack.

McMillan and Ferguson brought up our own counterattacking philosophy and wanted me to know that Dale, our captain, was beginning to get a bit antsy waiting for a match start.

This situation proposed a heck of a conundrum. Bell and Dale are both towers in the box. Dale is lanky and Bell is strong. Neither one of them draw attention to them like Craddock seems to at this point in time. Having Craddock on the pitch is essential to our success because he draws two markers, thus leaving Dale and Bell open for more space to work. However, when they do get marked, their height works well with Craddock's abilities off the ball and his overall speed. Craddock finds ways to get loose and then scores.

Bell's been playing well and I don't want to kick him out of the squad when he's done nothing wrong. However, leaving Dale out while he's the captain, is a risk I'm becoming increasingly uncomfortable with and am struggling to rectify as long as Bell continues to play well.

Baker agrees with leaving Dale on the bench because he has the determination and mentality to wait for his place. The Scottish staff want him on the pitch so he doesn't stagnate.

Again, our staff remained divided and we couldn't come up with an immediate resolution. Boateng, our talented 16 year old central midfielder is giving us fits too. Currently, he's playing with a wisdom beyond our years at the moment. Ferguson and I want him on the pitch, while Baker and McMillan want him rested and playing against weaker opposition. That philosophy is fine, but we're in a relegation dogfight already and we've just started the season. When do we bleed him, especially when we need him?

The only matter we fully resolved that day was that Ferguson can drink us all under the table.

Now, as we all started our stretching regiment, Dale hollered to me, “Gaffer, turn around. Mr. Bell is coming with that French dude.”

I followed Dale's advice and was pleasantly surprised to see him stand so tall and be built so strong. My God, if he can pass like he looks, we might have a chance against Hyde and I'll avoid my own Waterloo.

[Thepathtoamen]

Difficult decisions, I don't envy any manager! KUTGW! :-)

[salkster2102]

never grinned at a story as much as this one. well done on the win and i hope there are more to come.

[stoehrst]

Copper this is absolutely fantastic, took me days to finally get through all of it but it was well worth it. KUTGW and good luck against Hyde!

[copperhorse21]

Readers, thanks for weighing in. I appreciate it. A lot. I'm especially grateful to those of you who've been reading since the very start and who've put up with the lengthy spaces between the posts.

Chapter 87

Saturday, 30 August 2008, Blyth v Hyde, Ewen Fields, Hyde

I found a moment's respite before speaking to my team. My staff was attending to their various duties and the players listened to them while they dressed. The tension I felt was palpable. The staff, particularly Baker, understood where my head was at and left me to my thoughts as much as they could.

My staff knew that this afternoon we'd find out together if I was still manager of Blyth. We'd only won a single match in the last twenty outings and the Board was waiting for another loss so they could sack me and start anew with someone more to their liking. Only Bobby still had my back and wished me the best before the most important match of my career.

Bobby had called me early this morning and offered, “I'm sorry you're in this position, but it is football. Either you'll find a way to get at least a point or you won't. Either way, it won't change my personal feelings for you. You are good man. Remember that.”

McMillan called me too. “I just wanted to say that if we lose today, I won't be thrilled to see you go. I know you don't have any real reason to believe me, but I wanted you to know just the same. You have my full support and I'm backing you all season long.”

Baker teased, “Football's a funny lady, isn't she? Hell, look at the club we face today. Hyde. No way you can do that today, can you? Hang in there. It's a long game. If we go down early, we'll have time to get it back. Believe in your squad. At the end of the day, it's all you'll have.”

I looked again at my lineup sheet. Dale still was waiting for a game. How could I leave him out again? He's the captain! Yet, Craddock was playing like a dynamo scoring four goals working with Bell since his arrival from Middlesbrough. Did I risk making a change I'd not seen work in a match together on my potentially last day in charge? I swallowed hard and scribbled down Bell up front to tandem with Craddock.

Donachie got the start as a defensive midfielder but that was easier to put down. Despite Goulon's arrival on Wednesday, he'd only had four hours to work with our squad. Even though his 6'3” frame and awesome strength were something to reckon with on the pitch, his timing was still off and he needed more time to blend before I felt like throwing him into battle on the pitch. However, with Kenny Boyle getting the start as a left defender for the first time in four matches, I was ready to pull him quick and shift the team around to get Goulon on the pitch at all costs.

Evans was the starting keeper again. I needed a cocky player in between the sticks to be my last stand for me. He'd made a declaration to the press upon first arriving and was trying to back it up. As a fellow declarer, I felt he should at least be given a shot to prove back it up with action. I'd find out tonight if I'd be given the same chance to prove myself to the club and community.

The rest fell into place quite easily. Hines and Grounds were both on along with Beastall. Boateng's free kicks needed to be on the pitch and I hung him out on the right midfield to be a Beckham for me. Brawley was on the left. Dogun in the middle with Donachie.

I scrawled the names down nervously, my hand's uncontrolled shaking betraying my emotions. I reached for my water bottle and squirted liquid refreshment into my dry mouth hoping its moisture would chase away the cotton. I swallowed a few mouthfuls and realized it was hopeless.

“Gaffer? Am I in?” I was startled to see Dale standing before me, a look of expectancy frozen firmly in place. I couldn't speak. I nodded and he turned away downcast and disheartened. My heart hurt from sentiment. Although he'd welcomed me last season and kept this team up with some great efforts late in the season, he'd also come into this season slowly. I didn't have that luxury anymore. I was sure he'd get his shot at starting later in the season, but I didn't know if I'd be around to see it.

Baker saw what had just transpired and came over to me. He said, “No one likes sitting the bench when they've been the heart and soul of the team for so long. You made a commitment and made the expectations clear. Hell, all of us heard it and we're all living with it, whether we like where we stand or not. Stick to your guns. Honor your commitment.”

I nodded and Baker clapped me on the back. I smiled and he tousled my hair. He added, “Hell, it's daily decisions like these that will make your head look like mine.” He laughed and rubbed his balding head. I couldn't help but laugh too.

“Good, 'bout time your smiling. Now talk to the boys.”

I stood and strode over in front of the huddled group. They turned toward me and started to quiet down. I whistled and they fell quiet.

One final thought flashed into consciousness. Robinson was our center official. “Robin's Son.” I liked the thought of that and made a mental note for later on. I hoped it was a better omen than “Hyde.”

“Gaff?” Dale's voice called me back to the moment.

I realized where I was, nodded thanks, and began, “Spartans. Today's our chance to claim a victory. We can snatch it from a squad whose very name commands us to do something...Hyde.” A few chuckles escaped involuntarily.

“That's right. But we won't will we? We are going to do what Spartans do. We won't yield. We will stand our ground and fight. We've tasted victory once and it's much sweeter than defeat. I want us to stink when the match is done, but that smell better be from our sweat rather than our effort.” Again, more chuckles, but a groan or two sprinkled the room as well.

“The squad that's on the pitch at the start of the match might not be the squad who finishes it. Only you can decide what will happen when you're on the pitch. If I like what I see, you can stay there. If I don't, then you won't. We've got our captain chomping to get back into the starting rotation. Do you?” A few resolute nods and some awkward shifts from those present.

“Please understand. This game demands our very best each and every match. Each team we face strives to defeat us and thwart our plans. However, it's not the plan we start with that matters. It's how we adapt to those changes and the final plan we put into place at the end of the match that matters most.”

“Play with class! Play with commitment! Play with passion!”

[O\'Hara_fan]

With speeches like that have you ever thought of becoming the US President?

Good luck with the game anyways.

[tenthreeleader]

“Play with class! Play with commitment! Play with passion!”

A fine turn of phrase, sir! How about "Play so you score more goals than they do so I can keep writing this story"?

[Todorojoz]

A fine turn of phrase, sir! How about "Play so you score more goals than they do so I can keep writing this story"?

Now THAT is a phrase that would have me ready to give my all!

[copperhorse21]

O' Hara, Tenthreeleader, and Todorojoz, I'm delighted you enjoy the speeches (as well as the story).

This weekend has been a productive one.

Chapter 88

Saturday, 30 August 2008, Blyth v Hyde, Ewen Fields, Hyde

Robinson's whistle sounded and Hyde kicked off. Two back passes found us chasing the ball as they lobbed it over the top for their first breakaway chance. Hines elevated to deny them the quick strike with his first header of the match.

I choked down a bit of vomit and hoped the opening salvo wasn't an omen of the things to come over the next 90 minutes.

Each team tried it's lofted balls over the top and each central defender negated their opponent's opportunities. Try something different.

Donachie, a Scotsman, was the first to read my thoughts when he tripped Fitzpatrick allowing a free kick from 25 yards out eight minutes into the match. Idiot! I screamed in my mind. “Three! Three! Three!” I bellowed out loud as my signal for the wall. Too late. Fry smashed a blast past the two person wall and Evans barely managed a glove to it and parry it away from goal. It fell loose in the box where Donachie scrambled it away just before Fitzpatrick could latch onto it for the follow-up strike.

More vomit had worked its way into my mouth and I swallowed it too. This simply would not do. We had to think better than this. “Spartans! Think!” I yelled. I looked down the bench and found Baker sitting next to Dale, their heads together.

I walked over and asked Baker, “Do you have any gum or mints?”

Baker studied me a moment before he smiled and offered me his pack. I took a piece and chewed it ravenously.

Out on the pitch, Bell chased down the left channel through ball and dribbled toward the end line for the cross. As he neared the penalty box, the defense had blocked his passing lane so he hit a lofted shot to try and chip the keeper instead.

The ball sailed cleanly over the keeper and hung in the air as it floated toward the net. The ball's markings slowed their movement and all sound stopped its interference. My eyes followed its descent helplessly and I groaned out loud as it hit the top netting above the goal.

Hyde's supporters cheered Bell's miss and ours cheered his attempt. He looked to me and I had recovered from my disappointment in time to give him a thumbs up.

Three minutes later, Dogun, Boateng, and Craddock strung a series of one touch passes together up through the middle and right hand side which left Hyde ragged in the back. Fully exposed by the savvy passing, they watched Craddock's rocket shot whiz past the top corner of the net harmlessly.

I fist-pumped my support for Craddock's effort and glanced at Baker who had stopped talking with Dale long enough to join in with his own.

Our two quick wake-up calls forced Hyde to pack the box and wait for the counter attack. Patiently they waited for us to get frustrated over the next twenty minutes before I called for my first substitute.

Boyle was getting killed out there and I wasn't going to sit and wait patiently for him to wake up. Grounds was my replacement at left defender, but he was currently playing on the right. Luke Webster normally played there, but he was on the bench. Donachie was the only one on the pitch who could play right back, but he was playing defensive midfielder at the moment. The only player left to play that particular position was Goulon, who was sitting next to Dale on the bench.

I strode towards Dale who brightened at my approach. I nodded to him but leaned down next to Goulon. “Son, I know you are new to this team, but you are not new to football. We need you to play midfield and we need you to give your best out there. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am ready.” Goulon replied.

“Good.” Then, I turned to Dale. “Patient. You will get into this match. I swear it.”

Goulon, fully warmed up, stood next to me, my face turned upwards towards his as I gave him my instructions. “I have faith in you. You can do this.”

Goulon looked back down at me and smiled.

We made the switch just 27 minutes into the match. So much for playing defensively and so much for my patience.

Ten minutes later, Hyde had given up working the ball through Goulon's part of the pitch and had returned to lofting long balls over the top to counter our new defensive scheme. They finally connected as Perputini sent one into the box forcing Grounds to elevate. Just as he connected with the ball, Hyde undercut him and he mistimed his ball contact. The ball fell right to Hyde's Austin who volleyed a shot at our keeper.

Instinctively, Evan's threw his hand at it and tipped it over the bar for the corner. I slumped with relief and ordered reinforcements into the box. We had won the corner and held off their first attack.

A couple minutes later, Hyde tried to attack down their left side. Donachie, now playing right defender, intercepted the pass and sent his own long ball over the top for Craddock and Paris to race onto. Paris attempted to catch our young striker, but couldn't close the ground in time. Morgan raced out from his keeper position to challenge Craddock near the top of the penalty mark.

Craddock stepped over the ball and Morgan went for his fake. Craddock chipped the ball over his sliding body and it sailed into the far side corner of the net to score! Craddock wheeled away toward the corner, his arm held aloft in triumphant celebration having scored his fifth goal since joining us.

On the sidelines, I screamed my support and jumped ecstatically in the air, pumping my fists as if I'd scored the goal myself. Baker, Ferguson, and McMillan got clapped on the back in my celebratory state. I even high-fived Dale who stood and cheered his replacement on the pitch.

We took our one goal into half-time and I couldn't have been more relieved. I knew we had another 45 minutes left in the second half, but being up 1-0 on the road with my career on the line, made me a bit more comfortable going in.

However, I knew what I said at half-time would help us to seal the deal or it would leave us exposed to complacency and we'd come out flat. Whatever I said inside that dressing room, I knew that Hyde's manager would do the same thing. If I were in his shoes, the fire I'd breathe during my half-time speech.

Yet, it didn't matter what he might say. It mattered only what I would say.

[blowcrapup]

Come on so close. Your going to be a pain and make me wait for the next half aren't you?

[Thepathtoamen]

Come on so close. Your going to be a pain and make me wait for the next half aren't you?

I agree with this please don't make us wait to long!!!! Although every chapter is worth the wait! :-)

[copperhorse21]

Chapter 89

Saturday, 30 August 2008, Blyth v Hyde, Ewen Fields, Hyde

I strode into the training room and watched the battle rage between time and need. Our players needed attending. Many had aches and pains that needed immediate attention and we only had 15 minutes of time to get prepared for the next half. While our physio attended to them, the players spent more time congratulating Craddock for his composure in front of the net.

Bell, who'd been relatively quiet on the pitch was also skirting the edges of the room. I'd hoped more from him and I let him know it. “Bell, you had the one good attempt in the first half. That was good, but I needed more from you. I'll need you to show me that you want this as much as me.”

Bell nodded his understanding and I moved to the next player who crossed my path. This time, it was Hines. “You're amazing this afternoon Seb. Keep it up.”

Seb chuckled and added, “That's what she said.”

I stopped and laughed. It was so sudden, so uncharacteristic of Hines that I couldn't help but laugh at his innuendo-laden reference.

Regaining my composure, I polled my staff. All gave the thumbs up for today's tactic so far. Baker added one comment, however, “Make all your subs to bleed the clock if we get the chance. Hyde will come after us late in the match and we better be prepared to stall before we get laid open.”

I nodded agreement and stood on a chair to rise above the din. “Listen up, Spartans! We are in control of our future. We've got the slim lead, but at any moment, that can change. It could be a slip on the pitch, a push in the box, a bad call by an official. We don't know. Hyde won't lay down and we have yet to close out a match. Let's do it this time. Let's own the air, control the ground, and test their defenses when we get the chance. However, you've got to remember one thing. Every time you make a forward run, you leave us wide open for the counter attack. Make sure that when you make your run, you make sure that you make it count.”

My phone buzzed and I glanced at it. Bobby was on the other end. I finished up my talk with, “Good job, so far. But we've got 45 left to play. I want to be on top when we're done.”

Hines chimed in again, “That's what she said.” While they guffawed, I spun around and took the call, hoping that they'd keep it together long enough to keep me my job.

“Yes, Bobby. What is it?” I asked stridently.

“Little tense are we?”

“You could say that. With all respect, my time is limited at the moment, what do you want?”

“My apologies. Just wanted to let you know I've spotted Fenton on the grounds. He approached me and offered me his services should I need them following your dismissal.”

I bristled at Bobby's news. Fenton was an idiot who didn't deserve the air he breathed, but this was Hyde and we couldn't stop him from buying a ticket like any other supporter.

“Fine, we'll give him something to talk about then.”

“I hoped you'd say that. By the way, he's also approached another member of the Board too, offering him the same deal.”

The second tidbit was too much to take. Fenton had stepped over the line and we would have a meeting following the match whether it was appropriate or not.

“Thank you for the news, Sir.” I distanced myself emotionally and hung up. The team was filing out for the second half and I caught Dale's arm on his way by me.

“Yes, Gaff?” Dale asked.

“You will be in the match this second half, I'll remember my promise to you.”

“Thanks Gaff, I won't let you down.”

I nodded my approval and all of us headed out for the second half.

Baker caught my arm, “Who called?”

“Bobby.”

“Hell, what'd he want?”

“Don't worry about it.”

“Fine, I won't. Just promise me you won't worry about the second half either.”

“I can't promise that.”

“Then you're in for a long half.”

Robinson sounded the whistle and I paced back and forth wondering what kind of performance I'd see from my youngsters out there.

What I saw was complacency.

We didn't allow them to enter the box with anything threatening, but we didn't threaten them either. The first ten minutes passed without a shot from either team and I kept staring at my bench wishing I could do more than just watch.

The second ten minutes passed without a shot as well. At the seventy minute mark, I wanted to make a change, but every time I was ready to pull Bell from the match, he'd make a teasing header that looked promising for Craddock to run onto and I'd leave him a bit longer to see if it would come to fruition.

None of them did and I finally decided at 15 minutes from time to call Dale to warm-up. I called on Adrian Webster as well. Brawley had run his ass off up and down the sideline and I wanted some fresh legs at midfield to come in on the chance we could capitalize on Hyde's fitness late in the match.

At 80 minutes, we got a break and I sent Dale in for Bell. His 200 lb frame was too tired to contribute effectively and Dale's 6'7” 158 lb body might win some crucial headers late in the match.

As soon as Dale came in, Hyde threw everyone forward into a 4-2-4. We adjusted accordingly and we bent, but didn't break.

Finally, Goulon won a crucial tackle and threw off his defender who clawed at his uniform. Robinson put his whistle to his mouth, but refused to blow it, allowing play to continue on because Goulon had sent a perfectly weighted pass behind the defense and Craddock was off to the races.

Hamilton took the angle and crashed into his back just as he shot the ball sending it wide as a result. Craddock crashed to the ground and didn't rise.

Robinson's silence was deafening. Incensed, I raged for a call. But to no avail. Clearly, Blyth's supporter's joined me in my rage. The fourth official came over to calm me and made the mistake of putting his hand on my shoulder. I threw it off and raced to the other edge of my technical area to scream at the assistant on my side of the pitch.

Neither official was willing to make that kind of call this late in the game, but it still needed to be made. They had a job to do. Just like me. Their incompetence left me exposed and I couldn't tolerate that. I'd already had a bad past with them since my arrival in Blyth and was beginning to be convinced that getting the right calls made at my matches relied upon me being an established manager in the league.

I spun and railed against Baker, “Dolts! How can they not make the call?”

The fourth official caught up to me again. “Calm down!”

“Calm down? That's rich coming from you. You don't have a player laying face down in the dirt from a hack job, now do you?”

“I'd suggest you calm down, if you catch my meaning.”

“Baker, can you believe I'm getting threatened?”

“Copper, let it go for the moment.”

“Let it go? Let my players get walked over because they won't make the call when it needs to be made?”

Baker put his finger to his temple and his eyes bugged out as he stammered, “Think!”

By this time, Robinson had made his way over to the sideline and asked, “Is there a problem?”

I stared at him hard, my rage ready to rip him a new one. I opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind and noticed his hand start moving toward his pocket. I closed it again.

“That's what I thought.” and Robinson spun on his heel and returned to the game.

Craddock was finally up, but limping.

I looked at Adrian Webster warming up on the pitch. We didn't have another striker to send in. Bell had just come off and Brawley was too exhausted to keep up with the fresh winger Hyde had put in on his side.

Craddock had to stay on and tough it out.

Hyde's ensuing goal kick went to midfield. Goulon won the header and Dale received possession at midfield. Hamilton tugged on his shirt from behind and Dale's back pass went errant into a dead zone between he and Brawley. Too slow to change direction, Austin picked up the loose ball and zipped a through ball to his partner Fry, who'd just made an angled run inside Grounds on our left back slot.

Fry had a one-on-one with the keeper but both Hines and Goulon closed the gap incredibly fast and he rushed the shot, skipping it wide of the post that Evans had slid across and covered as a safety measure.

My heart fell back to it's normal place, but my blood pressure had spiked.

“DALE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

Dale hollered back, “Sorry Boss.” and claimed his spot in the center circle.

Evans caught his goal kick beautifully and the ball sailed high toward Dale. Hamilton hung on his back, but he couldn't elevate over Dale's 6'6” frame as the ball was nodded on for Craddock to limp after following a perfectly timed run.

I glanced at the clock, less than a minute remained, plus stoppage time. I didn't know how much that was going to be, but we needed this goal.

Craddock pushed it ahead of him and limped after it, Hamilton and Paris both quickly closed the gap from behind as his slower pace limited him.

Sensing their presence, Craddock struck a hard shot and it sailed toward the keeper. Morgan jumped high and reached for it, but it cleared his hands and sailed toward the back corner of the net.

Again, the ball slowed as I zeroed in on its top spun rotation. It started to dip down as it flew toward the top bar. I held my breath and dropped to my knees, hoping my body's posture would affect the ball. It closed the final distance toward goal and sailed just over the top crossbar for a near miss.

I barely had the strength to stand, but managed to get upright once more. So damn close! What did we need to do to get the ball in the frigging net? “McMillan! How much stoppage time?”

“Three minutes.”

Fu*k! My heart raced and pounded against my chest. I paced back and forth in my technical area raging against the things I couldn't control and wondering what I could do.

It hit me. “SUB! SUB! SUB!” I bellowed.

Too late to make the switch, I had to watch two more long balls sail into our box, both from Brawley's left side of the pitch. Beastall and Hines both won the headers, but it wasn't enough to ease the pressure I felt. Fitzpatrick sailed his third shot of the match over the crossbar before we could make the sub.

Brawley off and Adrian Webster on. Brawley's efforts were rewarded by a standing ovation from the visiting supporters and I clapped him on the back as he came to the sidelines.

“Sorry Boss. Got nothing left.”

“No sweat Brawley. That's the way it should be when you come off.”

He smiled and I smiled back.

On the pitch, we couldn't get out of our own half. Hyde had thrown everything they could up the field to equalize and Donachie and Grounds each had an answer to their lofted ballistics into the box.

Suddenly, Seddon won the ball near midfield and sent a probing pass on the ground to his teammate McLuckie who was left wide open at the top of the arc. My subconscious mind screamed, “What cruel joke is this!”

McLuckie turned and smashed a shot toward goal. Both Goulon and Hines threw themselves in front of the ball's path and one of them deflected it enough in the mad scramble to stop its flight at goal. Boateng who'd dropped back well into the penalty box for protection, sprayed it out wide to his left. Grounds chased it down and cleared it as far as he could up the field in Dale's direction on the left sideline and it rolled down into the corner.

Dale knocked it off Hamilton's legs to win the throw-in.

Hyde's supporters whistled their displeasure at our slow restart. Dale took his time, but he was smart enough to put it into play fast enough to avoid a whistle.

His calm presence on the pitch, eased the pressure I felt off it. I stole a glance at Robinson who was watching his watch more closely now. The end was near.

Dale threw it towards Goulon's chest. He turned with it on his chest and shielded his defender at the same time. Spinning around his mark, Goulon glanced up to see the flash of green his teammate produced at the penalty spot. Instinctively, he scooped a soft chip over Hyde's backtracking midfielder towards his Middlesbrough teammate, Craddock.

The ball floated just over Craddock's head and fell to the ground just as Robinson's whistle sounded it's final call.

We'd done it! We'd won! I raced out onto the pitch and joined the team in the goal area to join in their celebrations.

I knew it wasn't professional, but I didn't care. I needed to be there. My soul soared with joy and my heart burst with affection as I wrapped my arms tightly around Craddock in humble thanksgiving.

With tears of relief streaming down my face, I hugged everyone on the pitch as we made our way back to the bench area.

The visiting support cheered in a standing ovation and celebrated with us from their seats.

I looked for Robin's presence. Our eyes locked and I noticed she was crying too. She kissed her hand and blew it to me. I returned it back and mouthed “I love you.”

Robin mouthed her same feelings back to me.

My staff surrounded me with hugs and pats on the back. I waved at Hyde's manager before I was swept off in revelry toward the dressing room.

Nothing could shake my joy. Eight points and a job for the rest of the season! It was fantastic and nothing was going to take my joy away from me.

Not even Fenton.

[tenthreeleader]

Break up the Spartans! Gotta be the manager!

Dale's 6'7” 158 lb body might win some crucial headers late in the match.

Good gracious. When he turns sideways, can he even be seen?

[blowcrapup]

\o/ Yey GO SPARTANS!!

[medievalman]

i've been reading this story for awhile now and have to say best story i've ever read on these forums! i hope you recreate the giantkilling that blythe achieved in real life against shrewsbury in the FA cup!

[copperhorse21]

Tenthree: I thought the same thing when I read Dale's profile. Peter Crouch and Dale have a lot in common...

Blowcrapup: Thank you for cheering so loudly, I could almost hear you over here across the pond...

Medievalman: Totally appreciate your comment. I could have used your vote during our recent awards ceremony. Either way, knowing how you feel is especially satisfying.

Chapter 90

Saturday, 30 August 2008, My Office, Blyth

The day's excitement was over. We'd returned to Blyth and the team headed out on the town for a well-deserved round of festivities. My staff had their own ideas of what to do too. We were invited, but Robin declined for us.

I had started to protest, but her look signified she had something very special planned for us both and I looked more forward to her idea of fun than hanging with the boys anyway.

We were alone in my office and everything was quiet, save for the wind whistling outside. The breeze had picked up significantly since this afternoon and rain was forecast in our near future. I could think of nothing better than spending an entire evening wrapped in her loving embrace, the heat of our passions warming us from within while the rain pounded against the window.

I started to discuss business at the office, but she asked, “Can we just soak in the moment? Please?”

I paused and considered her desire. “Sure, whatever you want.”

Robin stood in front of me and leaned back against my chest. She wriggled against me until I draped my arms over her shoulders to swallow her in a hug. She nestled in even closer and stared out the window without making another sound.

Her breathing slowed and I eventually found myself matching her rhythm until I finally started relaxing as well. She caressed my bare arms and got lost in her thoughts.

I tried to speak, but she shushed me. “Please, Copper, I'm not ready.”

I quieted once more and held her close. Eventually, I felt my heartbeat resound against her back lightly and I could feel hers beat softly against my forearms.

It became quite comforting and my own mind wandered reflecting over the past fifteen months.

Originally we'd come to Liverpool so Robin could fulfill a lifelong ambition of hers and teach overseas. All was well and we loved our time together. She loved the culture and I loved the football.

Then, in March, fate intervened and I met Bobby in a nameless pub where we struck up a relationship that eventually fulfilled a lifelong ambition of mine.

Ever since I took the job at Blyth at Robin's persistence, she returned to her life of subservience as I chased the dream of being a professional football manager.

Standing behind her in silence helped me to understand just how selfish I'd been these past five months without realizing it. Robin had put her teaching career on hold for me to get this opportunity.

To make matters more stressful, it hadn't been a smooth transition. First, the relegation struggles last season. Then the devastating player attrition issues forced onto us by budget decisions made totally out of our control. Our own poverty mirrored that of the clubs. We still hadn't sold our home back in the States. We'd both given up our well paying, highly secure jobs so I could come to work for an obscure club for little money and even less respect.

Through it all, she'd never complained. Never broke down in despondency. Her unfailing support and unconditional love for me when the community wanted my head on a platter, the Board offered me a severance for my resignation, and the stresses of a nineteen match winless streak finally claimed my health in the form of a mild heart attack were beyond what I could ever repay.

I realized that she was indeed my foundation, my very best friend, and my most intimate lover. I didn't realize just how unselfish she'd been this whole time and I suddenly felt guilty for all I'd done to her so far.

I kissed her neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” she whispered back.

“Shhh, please listen I've more to share.”

As I whispered my intimate thoughts into her delicate ear, she began to tremble with emotion. I spoke softly and she began to weep openly, her body beginning to shake now.

I wrapped her in my arms even closer and spoke a bit louder. Eventually, she started sobbing uncontrollably and I had to support her frame completely.

Robin turned toward me, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held my face still in her embrace. She leaned toward me and pressed her mouth to mine, her salty tears finding their way past our lips and onto my tongue.

Finally, after I asked her to forgive me, she pulled away to sniffle loudly and sob some more. I broke down too. Both of us shaking and struggling to stand upright in each other's arms.

“Copper, I do.”

I tried wiping away the tears to stop my own sniffling, but she whispered to me.

“Copper, let it out. You’ve earned it. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry for being so weak.”

“So weak? Weak because you’ve wanted this dream so bad and you’re thankful your living it? Come on now.”

“Yes.”

“You are not weak. You are my warrior. My lover. My friend. You are my inspiration. Your emotions which you wear on your sleeves are contagious. I’ve never seen you coach so well as these past five months. You’re magnificent out there.”

“Really?”

“I would never lie to you. You ought to know that by now.” She tousled my hair and kissed me on my forehead.

“I suppose your right. It’s just…” I stopped short, the words stuck in my throat and refused to release themselves from its tight grasp.

“Go on.” she encouraged. “You can say it. It's just the two of us, remember?”

I paused and contemplated the risk of what might occur.

Robin interrupted, “Copper, once you say it, you'll be free.”

Free. It was a tempting thought, but I didn't believe it to be true.

“Let it go. Say it.” and she stepped back giving me the space I might need should I risk releasing my innermost fear.

I took a deep breath and parted my mouth to offer it up.

She only nodded and waited.

“What if I fail? What if I can't do what I've dreamed my whole life I could do? What if we've sacrificed all this stuff and I find out I can't do it? That I'm no good at coaching? Or that I'm mediocre at best? I don't know if I could bear it knowing that you've given up your life's ambitions for mine.”

“Oh Copper!” She gushed, more tears spilling from her face, she raced into my waiting arms and held me tight. “I'm so proud of you. You really don't see what I see in you, do you?”

I shook my head no. “You're so much more talented than me, Robin. I can't hold a candle to you. Without you, I'd never had made it this far. You alone are the reason I've succeeded. What if I lose you because I'm so wrapped up in managing I forget to appreciate you like you deserve?”

Robin took a long time to soak in what I'd just confessed. She let it hang in the space between us and I wondered if she would ever respond.

“Copper, as long as I'm the standard of achievement by which you measure your success, you will limit your potential. You can't compare yourself with others to measure your success because you will always find someone who's better. Yes, I am your wife. Yes, I get frustrated when you get caught up in your work too much. However, I am a woman. I've been given special gifts that no man can ever possess. It's in our nature to forgive and to support and to nurture those around us whom we love.”

She paused a moment more and let it sink in before adding, “Copper, you are stuck with me forever. I took an oath before God and I intend to keep it. Do you?”

“Most certainly. I always try to keep my promises.”

She giggled mischievously and I struggled to comprehend the humor in our current situation.

“Really? Even drunken ones where you stand on the pub table full of Carlsberg beer and declare in front of God and Blyth that their beloved Spartans will take the title this year, despite being 1000-1 odds?”

I laughed too. “Yes, even that kind of promise.”

This concludes “An American Pilgrimage”.

If you wish to provide me with any comments you don't wish to be viewed publicly, please write me a private message using this service or you can post an email to the web address found in my public profile.

Thank you for reading and I wish you the very best.

Copper

[tenthreeleader]

Let me be the first. Superb work. Heartiest congratulations!

[Celtic_1967]

Let me be the first. Superb work. Heartiest congratulations!

seconded, i'm really going to miss this story, but at least I'll now have time to write my own instead of looking for updates for this one. Hoping to see some more top qaulity writing from yourself in future.

[medievalman]

ohhhh i want to know what happens next now! haha

[nette000]

I'll keep it short: thank you for this read.

[EvilDave]

As an infrequent poster and regular reader on these boards, I discovered a couple of days ago that I'd let this on slip through the net. Cue several hours sharing every minute of Copper's rollercoaster ride, and one of the finest stories I've had the pleasure of reading. I'm sad to see it end, but it seems like an appropriate conclusion and very much look forward to your next effort. Well done on a superb story.

[BobBev]

Nice one Copper. Having set yourself such a high standard we await your next tale (there will be a next tale won't there?) with great anticipation.

[sherm]

Copper - You have a standard to keep good Sir. Excellent tale, well done

[Thepathtoamen]

Noooooo not the end thats not allowed! but well done you have keep me avidly reading since the beggining chapter to the last. I am thinking of writing my own story now as I have enjoyed this one so much.

What I am trying to say is I have read about 15 to 20 stories on here and this is by far the best.

Well done and you better write another one :-p :-)

[SCIAG]

Well done Copper! Fantastic story.

Though now I suppose I'm out of work. Bugger.

[O\'Hara_fan]

Copper, you know I have loved this story. There is nothing else to say other than this was a fantastic read.

A few weeks back you were thinking of publishing this weren't you, what are your thoughts now?

[copperhorse21]

Readers,

Thank you very much for your kind words. They mean a lot to me, especially after I've logged as many hours as I have on this story.

I'll let you folks in on a secret or two.

Author's Note:

Pilgrimage was intended to be a diversion for me while I played the game itself. I felt I could create short posts and quick match summaries and get on with life.

It didn't work out that way.

I followed three kernels of advice from professional writers. I wrote what I know and I showed instead of told. I also remembered to include the "why" something was done. As a result, each chapter spanned out longer and Copper's tale took on a life of its own, far exceeding my wildest imagination.

Fact blended with fiction to make Pilgrimage a reality.

All of Copper's past in the States is my own, especially in the early chapters. I retired this year from coaching soccer because I wanted to spend more time with my son, who's now in high school. Ever since I've been a wee little bugger, I've wanted to coach. I read the story Season on the Brink by Guillem Ballague this past year and realized that Rafa's background and mine were very similar. One thing led to another and Copper's relationship with Liverpool was born.

I didn't expect to feel such a huge loss in my life giving up coaching. Fortunately, the realism of the computer game and the hours I've spent writing has been therapeutic.

Amaroq got me started, tenthree helped me finish.

Your comments helped keep me motivated to write a good, story.

However, every good story must come to an end. As many of you have read by my location, I'm struggling to wait for 09 to come out. I absolutely love this game. I also love to write. However, when push comes to shove, at this point in my life, playing fits in better than writing, especially since I've developed a faithful readership. As readers, you expect to be able to read right through the cliffhangers and on to the next chapter. I respect that. Unfortunately, I couldn't post as fast as tenthree to keep up with your rabid support.

Then, I read a few short stories and realized that this might work better for me as a writer. Detailing the ebb and flow of the season would be boring to write. It would show in my writing. Authors forget that just because they have a following, they don't have license to write tripe (JK Rowling, are you reading this?)

Keep the storyline tight. Find a conflict and resolve it. End the story. Start a new one.

I hope to continue on and let you know what happened over the rest of the season, but I won't make the mistake of posting it a chapter at a time with days of waiting in between. It isn't fair to you, the reader. Therefore, if I find the right way to tell my tale, then I will. However, it will be fully written before I start to post. That way, I can post daily and you won't have such a long wait between cliffhangers. Then again, if 09 is as good as the blogs tease, you may never see me write another word except for providing you with feedback.

In conclusion, I'm amazed at what kind of impact I've had on this forum, despite not winning a single one of my seven awards for which I was nominated this season. It's been an absolute thrill to see Copper appear in Calcio, Rat Pack, and Olympiakos. It's also been flattering to know of those who've written stories about Blyth or started stories because mine inspired you. No amount of awards will top that kind of word-of-mouth recognition and inspiration.

This forum board has helped me through a very rough patch in my life. Without it, I don't know what I would have done without football in my life.

Thank you for your support. You'll never know how important it's been to me in my life.

[weeeman27bob]

A wonderful, wonderful story. Absolutely bloody Marvelous

[O\'Hara_fan]

Copper, I have to say, I agree with you about JK Rowling.

Hope all goes well at little old Blyth by the sea.

20th in the table right now, they might just hire you

[Spav]

Copper, I simply stand and applaud your efforts with this truly magnificent story.

Bravo, my good man, bravo.

[copperhorse21]

Cross your fingers, pray to your god(s), whatever is inspirational to you...don't want to exclude anyone, but I do need some help.

My son, wonderful teenager that he is, accidentally picked up a malware/adware program file on my laptop late last week while looking for free online games to download.

The program's side effects are that it eats processes and is a keylogger. That said, I haven't touched WSM 08 and the computer itself has been on lockdown with the exception of trying to download software that will removed the unwanted program.

Currently, I have a second professional looking at it to determine whether or not I can remove the program without wiping the entire computer.

All you Copper fans best hope/wish/pray that it doesn't need to be wiped because all the results for the 2008-2009 season are stored in my career save...

So, there you have it.

It's either a blessing that I finished Book One of my story the day before I picked up the virus, or it's a curse that the virus was downloaded in the first place.

For those who care, he downloaded the "Gamevance program." It has a .dll file and an .exe file which I cannot successfully remove on my own.

Copper

[O\'Hara_fan]

Some people have no respect for the work that legends do. However, since I am probably the same age as your son, I won't deny I've done the same thing

Least the story is finished anyhow.

[Panpardus]

Hey copper try this, explains how to get rid of Gamevance, but if you have a keylogger then I would suggest going with a pro if your not sure what's happening.

Hope it works out ok.

[salkster2102]

or download a program called superantispyware which fixed my computer after i messed it up with downloading.

[SCIAG]

Hey copper try this, explains how to get rid of Gamevance, but if you have a keylogger then I would suggest going with a pro if your not sure what's happening.

Hope it works out ok.

Helps if you post the link .

Copper, have you tried backing up both FM and the story on a memory stick?

[copperhorse21]

Helps if you post the link .

Copper, have you tried backing up both FM and the story on a memory stick?

Panpardus: I googled the program and found some instructions on how to remove it. I tried those steps on my own and couldn't remove it. Don't know if the fault lay in the instructions or the execution of those instructions. Considering I still can't multi-quote, then I'm guessing it's me and hence, the professional support.

O' Hara: I'm blaming it on Fenton who hacked into my computer after reading my story.

SCIAG: Not knowing how viruses and malprograms work by design, I hesitate doing anything with the computer because if I put it on a memory stick, then any infected files might transfer as well and I don't want to have the stick infected too. Or, when I reload the information onto my clean computer, re-infect it. I know, it probably is nothing to worry about, but when I run full sweeps my computer every other day, I tend to be more cautious than most, especially when there is only about eight sites I visit regularly.

Until then, I'll spend more time watching Arsenal shoot themselves in the foot and throw disgusted tantrums at the frivolity of finesse inside the attacking third!! I'll also watch myself slip further down the fantasy league table behind tenthreeleader.