Rob Ridgway's "Rat Pack"

[Offspring8]

KUTGW 10-3, amazing story so far. It's brilliant how you have made your series based on a football manager game. Great use of imagination as well with the whole 'away-from-football' part of Rob Ridgway's life

[tenthreeleader]

Gentlemen, everyone has an opinion, I see! Heartwarming

___

Thursday, January 1

The New Year of 2009 is here and the transfer window is again open. The big news of the day – guess where Michael Johnson is going?

Not Spurs, which was an intriguing proposition. The discussions reportedly fell apart last night – understandable given I know of no one in their right mind who wants to work on New Year’s Eve. Naturally, he’s going to Chelsea. It’s their fourth big money move of the year – the purchase price was £20.5 million that City can now put straight back into their squad. One wonders how much Johnson will get to play, but then that’s hardly my worry. City is chasing me in the table and getting uncomfortably close. I’ll have to watch developments closely there.

While Patty’s controversy continues to rage in Los Angeles, things were somewhat quieter for me over here. It just reinforces the frustration I feel at not being able to help Patty – being unable to get away and be a decent husband to her.

She is doing test shoots for IMG this week so it’s not like she can leave, so we’re both in need of each other and for the time being utterly helpless to enforce our own wishes.

Meanwhile, in North London, the London media finally got around to asking Arsene Wenger if he was at all concerned about making the short trip west for the match.

“We are playing acceptably,” the Frenchman said in his usual professorial tone. “I still believe there is danger in playing Reading, especially away from home. They have defeated us once already and I believe any team that does not give Reading their full respect at this time does so at its own risk.”

Then he said something that frankly shocked me when I heard it on Sky Sports News: “I enjoyed the first match from a football standpoint even though we lost,” he said. “It is refreshing to me to see another club which approaches the idea of offensive football in the same manner we do. Outside the so-called ‘Big Four’, I do not know of a team that plays at such a consistently high level of attacking football.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t argue the point. Reading – not Arsenal, not Chelsea, not United and not Liverpool – leads the Premiership in goals scored. When our backs are against the wall, such as in the Liverpool match last week – we have shown we are capable of making a dramatic response.

I didn’t have the reputation as an offensive wizard when I came here, by any stretch of the imagination, but the Premiership and its level of play and players has certainly agreed with me to this point. I can’t deny that.

The result has been what Wenger noted – we’re pretty fluent when we have the ball, at least to this point. I love the thought of other clubs preparing for us in that sort of fashion. It flatters the hell out of me.

# # #

We put in a full day of training today, which was a bit difficult for some of the players who looked a bit slow due to the grape at last night’s parties.

While I ran the beer and wine out of a few of the guys this morning, we were hearing about the world awards, many of which were announced today.

Barcelona’s Samuel Eto’o was named World Footballer of the Year with Inter’s Zlatan Ibrahimovic coming second. Meanwhile, Valencia’s Joaquin was named World Player of the Year (not sure what the difference between the two is, quite frankly) with Cristiano Ronaldo second and Eto’o third.

Meanwhile, Valencia picked up quite a double as super-talent David Villa won the European Footballer of the Year trophy ahead of Cesc Fabregas and Fernando Torres. Good players, that group.

City picked up a double in the monthly awards, with Sven-Göran Eriksson and Rolando Bianchi winning manager and player of the month awards respectively.

# # #

I have City reportedly preparing a bid for Lita and today Gareth Southgate called wondering if he could buy Liam Rosenior.

If Pogatetz were not injured I would consider it, but Liam is working very hard to keep his newly acquired spot and I can’t spare him. I had to tell Southgate the player wasn’t for sale. That’s not because he’s untouchable – he is not – but because I don’t have a left fullback I trust to replace him.

I wouldn’t mind some transfer funds to bolster my squad. I would like to hit the youth market heavily in January but without breaking the First Berkshire Bank of Madejski. The only way to do that is to sell players or offload payroll.

Which brings me to my overly large reserve team. I’m still trying to sell about a third of the contracts there, which would free up a lot of payroll that I could really use elsewhere. But I can’t find takers for the players I want to sell. Such seems to be my lot in life.

World Summary – January 1, 2009

Championship (promotion and playoff places only)

Wigan 52, Sunderland 49, Ipswich Town 45, Wolves 44, Fulham 42, QPR 42

League One (promotion and playoff places only)

Leeds 49, Bristol City 45, Walsall, Bournemouth and Stoke City 42, Millwall 38

League Two (promotion and playoff places only)

Brentford 50, Rotherham 48, Leyton Orient and Tranmere Rovers 46, Swindon 45, Cheltenham 44, Grimsby Town 43

Conference National (promotion and playoff places only)

Rushden and Diamonds 59, Aldershot 52, Kidderminster 46, Oxford 46, Kettering 45

Ligue One – Lyon 46, PSG 39, Sochaux 37

Bundesliga – HSV 38, Mainz 35, Bayern Munich and Werder Bremen 33

Eredivisie – Feyenoord 44, Roda JC 38, PSV 33

Serie A – Atalanta 36, Lazio 34, Genoa 31

SPL – Celtic 51, Rangers 45, Hibs 36

La Liga – Madrid 41, Valencia 34, Espanyol 32

# # #

[Kewell08]

You should so release them. You know no-one wants them

[tenthreeleader]

Yeah, but the Swede in me wants value somehow

___

Friday, January 2

There are times in a man’s life when events occur of such magnitude that he’ll remember what he was doing forever when he remembers the event.

I was in a sound sleep early this morning, when the phone rang at exactly 5:12 a.m.

Startled and a bit annoyed, I picked up the phone.

“Mr. Ridgway?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Who’s calling, please?”

“Mr. Ridgway, this is Doctor Jacqueline Benjamin of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. I have to tell you that your wife was admitted here ninety minutes ago.”

“What happened?” I asked. “Is Patty all right?”

“She is, but she wasn’t when she arrived,” Benjamin said. Then she fell silent. After a long pause, I knew it was my turn to speak.

“Was she sick? Is she in danger?”

“She was sick, but she is no longer in danger,” the doctor replied. “She should have come in a couple of days ago but we were told she wanted to work.”

That sounded like Patty, but I couldn’t imagine why she would do anything like that when there was a baby inside her that she needed to consider. Then it hit me.

“Doctor, is something else wrong?” I asked.

“I’m afraid there is, Mr. Ridgway.”

A chill ran down my spine and a feeling of terror passed over me like a black wave.

“The baby…”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ridgway.”

# # #

[Goofus]

Not the baby! How many tragedies must befall Rob?

[gaz_man]

Is anything ever going to go right in Rob's life.

I can see there being hell to pay, because he's gonna blame macguire for this

[salkster2102]

oh no! please send my apologies and condolences to Mr Ridgway

[SCIAG]

Phone Copper, he's lost a child too.

[tenthreeleader]

“No,” I cried. “Please, no!” I felt like I was being strangled. I had to force the words from my mouth.

“Mr. Ridgway, Patty miscarried shortly after arriving here. I’m sorry.”

“Is Patty able to talk to me?” My head started to spin at the impact of the news.

“Not at present,” Benjamin replied. “She’s under sedation. When the ambulance brought her in, she was wildly upset over a letter she had just read. She couldn’t relax so we had to do it for her. Unfortunately, on top of it all, she miscarried shortly after arriving.”

Tears stung my eyes and raced down both cheeks as I took in the news of a parent’s worst nightmare. I couldn’t speak.

“Mr. Ridgway, are you still there?”

“I’m here,” I finally choked. “But what’s important in my life isn’t.”

# # #

There was no one to talk to.

I lay in bed alone, my thoughts swiftly becoming haunted by the vision of my child looking at me from some unknown, unknowable, hazy place. I wanted to think it was heaven, but whenever I closed my eyes the vision would return. It may have been heaven for the baby, but it certainly wasn’t for me.

I needed to talk with Patty – first and all, before anyone else. That wasn’t going to happen, at least not yet.

Finally I sat bolt upright in bed and fell back hard into the pillows, punching the mattress repeatedly in helpless frustration.

Words wouldn’t come. Coherent thoughts wouldn’t come. The only thing I could feel was a blind, suffocating sadness that was rapidly giving way to anger. My eyes screwed tightly shut, I saw a red haze in front of me as I gave way to helpless rage.

I thought of my wife in her hospital bed so far away, thought of what sort of letter could have driven her to such a feeling of overwhelming despair, and realized why I was angry.

“Patty, I love you,” I whispered. “And I can’t even show you.”

# # #

[copperhorse21]

I'm sorry for Rob's loss. This is an incredibly difficult time. However, from a reading stand point (no pun intended), it's very well done and quite gripping. I find myself looking forward to logging on to the site so I can catch up on the latest developments. This one is quite sad. I wish you the best in trying to write this most difficult life situation.

[tenthreeleader]

Thanks, Copper. As you know, it's difficult to write painful events for characters you create and enjoy.

___

Frankly, nothing else mattered. I drove to work early and rang Madejski to tell him I needed to see him right away upon arrival on a personal matter.

I was shown into his office at the stadium punctually at 7:30. I told him everything.

“John, Patty miscarried this morning in Los Angeles,” I said.

He said nothing for a moment, choosing to let me compose myself.

Finally, he spoke. “Rob, I’m deeply sorry, though I know that is small consolation,” he said. “You must go to her. Let Dillon take the team and give yourselves time to heal.”

I looked at the floor. “I can’t even talk to her, John,” I said. “She’s in the hospital, she’s being sedated so she can rest, and she’s just so far away!” My frustration was starting to boil over.

“Think it over,” he said. “We certainly understand if you want to take compassionate leave. There’s no reason why you should stay.”

“Board expectations,” I said. “They will expect a win. They want the fifth round. I need to be there and I need to face the music if we don’t win.”

“Not at that price,” he said. “And, Rob, do I really need to remind you that the only expectations you have to meet at this club are mine?”

“Of course not,” I said. “But I do need to handle my responsibilities here.”

“The decision is yours,” he added. “I just want you to do the right thing for your wife and for yourself. Whatever you decide that course of action is, I will support.”

He looked at me kindly. “You have done a magnificent job at this club, Rob. Don’t let anyone tell you differently and above all, don’t let anyone shift you from what you have to do now.”

I thanked him and went down to the changing room. Maybe the sights and sounds of the players would help.

# # #

[JamboJen]

Fantastic seems an inappropriate way to describe what is becoming a very sad and moving episode, but it really is fantastically written.

[Balthazars]

10-3, allow me to say that while I have not had the opportunity to read all (or even much) of Rat Pack, or even its predecessor, the quality of your work here is outstanding.

As a relative newcomer to FMS with not much spare time for reading, the size of your tale kind of put me off. Thankfully, it's a slow morning at work today, so I managed to read some of the latest batch of updates, and also the first page-and-a-bit, to help give me a little bit of context. Simply put, quite brilliant.

Now, I'm hoping I have more slow days at work where I can squeeze in some reading so that hopefully I can catch up eventually!

[tenthreeleader]

JamboJen, Balthazars, thank you for your kindness. Difficult subject but it is too often a part of life. I appreciate your continued readership, comments and support!

___

I obviously wasn’t myself, and it didn’t take long for the players to see it. The training session we had was light as it always is the day before a match, but my heart wasn’t in it and it was plain to everyone that something was wrong.

I knew I couldn’t let on what was wrong, and above all I couldn’t let the team be flat the day before such an important match. So with a mighty effort, I tried to drag myself out of the funk I was in and be the leader the club was paying me to be.

I couldn’t fool Dillon, though. He took me aside after our morning session and asked in the privacy of the manager’s office.

“Rob, something is very wrong,” he said, as I paced back and forth along the length of the office. “We can all see it. Will you agree with me on that?”

I nodded. It was getting hard to talk again, and I hated that feeling. I felt like a caged animal must feel and it felt like the walls were starting to close in.

“Rob, I don’t want to pry, but I hope whatever it is that’s bothering you can be resolved quickly for the sake of these players. Is it something with the club?”

I shook my head. Talking was now impossible.

Then he guessed. “Is Patty all right?” he asked.

I shook my head. I sat heavily down at my desk and buried my head in my hands. He waited for me.

“Kevin, Patty lost the baby last night,” I said. “She’s in the hospital in LA.”

“Oh, God, Rob, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Why are you even here today?”

“Frankly, Kevin, no place else to go.”

He didn’t know what to say. But finally, he stood up.

“That’s not true, Rob,” he finally said. “Please, just sit for a moment. Someone needs to talk to the squad and it can’t be you.”

Thickly, I nodded. Dillon left and headed into the changing room.

# # #

[JamboJen]

Having re-read my last comment, it really doesn't do this justice. This update is under 500 words long and yet has me struggling to hold back tears.

It is a shame this story is confined to this forum (no offence intended towards the FMS) but it really deserves much wider readership. I could never even have imagined coming across a story of this calibre when I signed up to the forum or that I would need to look for updates whenever I logged on to the internet.

This truly is an outstanding piece of work.

[Goofus]

Agree with JamboJen. Even if you can't publish this story, you should go into writing a story during your spare time. Who knows? You may even get it published. You do have the potential 10-3.

[BenCraig7]

i agree with both JamboJen and Goofus, this is definately book material, seriously 10-3 look into trying to publish this story, you might get somewhere

[tenthreeleader]

Jen, Goofus, BenCraig, thank you so much for the kind words. It is truly flattering to have my work held in such high regard!

___

Finally, at mid-afternoon, Patty called.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice immediately breaking into sobs of helpless grief.

“Patty, you have no reason to apologize,” I said, my own voice quivering as I tried to console her from much, much too far away.

“I just couldn’t take it anymore,” she said. “Both of their attorneys wrote wanting depositions for the case. I’ve been so scared of this, and it pushed me over the edge.”

My tears dissolved into anger again. My suspiscions had been confirmed.

“Why on earth couldn’t they give that to a representative?” I fumed.

“The letters were registered,” she said. “It wasn’t a good day. I’m in this up to my eyeballs, Rob. I just couldn’t take it any more!”

“You have an attorney now,” I said. “The crap needs to be handled by the attorneys. Not you. And you can just tell the truth. It’s not like you have anything to hide!”

To Patty, it was like I wasn’t even talking, as my words flowed right past my wife’s grief-stricken conscience. “I just couldn’t hold out,” she repeated, returning to her original subject. “I got so worried and I’ve been so stressed … I started to feel poorly and eventually I fainted right on the shooting set. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up here and they told me … they told me …”

She began to cry and this time was inconsolable. Her words became incoherent as she slid down a very steep slope into the abyss of a mother’s grief.

I thought of Kate and the idiot she married. My anger turned to wrath and both of them were the targets. Not for the first time, I saw red. And also not for the first time, I was helpless to do thing one about it.

I know there is nothing I can do. McGuire’s foolishness and Kate’s understandable determination to see justice done to him have taken a toll I can’t even begin to describe.

I will never see my child. Not only can’t I describe that feeling, I can’t forgive it either. That will be up to God.

# # #

[Marchie]

10-3.... You need to seek help....... How do I sleep now......

[nette000]

Mr. R. should hop over to Patty. No words would be necessary. And presumably US lawyers could be even better suited for legal revenge (if he feels vindictive). As usual, good stuff.

[weeeman27bob]

Don't want to burst your bubble by being picky but I don't think

And also not for the first time, I was helpless to do thing one about it

that makes any sense. Please excuse me If I'm wrong.

Anyhow, keep it up Mr 10-3

[tenthreeleader]

Bob, that's not an error. The phrase "thing one" is a slightly outdated Americanism. But thanks for the comment

___

Saturday, January 3

Reading v Arsenal, Third Round, FA Cup

I didn’t sleep much.

I also haven’t really felt like writing much – but in the state I’m in, getting my thoughts down someplace where I don’t have to scream them might be the best thing for me. Patty will be discharged from the hospital in Los Angeles this evening and she is flying straight home. She is feeling better but is obviously in neither the condition nor the mindset to work.

I will meet her at Heathrow in the small hours of Sunday morning and she’s going to take some time away from everything so we can simply be together.

The phone woke me this morning. It was my mother-in-law.

“Rob, I’m just calling to let you know we’re praying for you and Patty,” Paula said. “It’s just so awful what has happened!”

“Thank you,” I answered, trying to be genial but failing in the attempt. As seems to be the case nowadays, even talking to family brings tears to my eyes.

“I’ve talked with Martin,” she said, and once again the familiar feeling of dread started to surge over me.

“Is that why you’re calling instead of him, Paula?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not like that,” she said. “He was looking forward to being a grandfather.”

“Let me guess. He’s disappointed in me.”

“Rob, that’s not fair,” she said softly. “He’s had a loss too.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, feeling a bit ashamed of myself. “I just don’t know if I can take another fight at this point in time.”

“There won’t be a fight,” she said. “Right now he’s just concerned for Patty, as we all are.”

“Amen to that. She’s flying home this afternoon and really, I’m concerned about the length of that flight.”

“I’m sure they’ll take good care of her, Rob,” she said. “And then you get to take good care of her. Right now she doesn’t need her father and she doesn’t need me. She needs you.”

“I know,” I answered. “Thank you for taking the time to call. We’ll be in regular contact, I’m sure.”

I spent half an hour on the phone with my own family before leaving for the ground this morning. They too wondered why I was still in Berkshire instead of on a plane for America, and when I explained the situation they understood a little better. They didn’t agree, but at least they understood.

But then I had to go to the ground. I needed something – anything – to shift my mind from the events of the last 24 hours. It was time to at least try.

# # #

[weeeman27bob]

When I was writing it, I was thinking.

" I don't know why I'm doing this, it is blatantly going to be an americanism"

I tried to outwit a master and failed

Anyway keep it up, it really is brilliant.

[tenthreeleader]

Bob, no worries. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!

___

Sitting in my office chair didn’t help much. I felt a little more secure than I did in that empty house, but the magnitude of the last day soon overwhelmed me.

This was supposed to be a happy day for me. As a boy I followed the FA Cup, the world’s oldest trophy competition, as closely as the newspapers would let me. Now, I was going to manage in a competition that had captured my imagination even as it seems to have slipped in popularity in England itself.

Yet, I stared at the blank final team sheet in front of me and wished it would write itself. I didn’t feel much like doing it, and finally I realized that even though I didn’t feel like managing, I had to do my job.

Yesterday’s papers were neatly stacked on my desk, still unread. I looked at them for a long moment, signed heavily, and filled out the team sheet. Finally, I called Dillon in to check it, and spent a few minutes trying to restore myself to the land of the living. I looked at the stack of papers and picked up the one on top.

I saw in the Mirror that David O’Leary, who came within an eyelash of managing Leeds to European glory before that club’s financial meltdown, is the new manager of Shelbourne, new champions of the Irish Premier Division. So he’ll get a shot at the Champions League qualifying stages next season.

Milan have given Sven-Goran Eriksson money to spend, paying £22 million for Elano in a bid the Manchester City board accepted on the manager’s behalf.

Newcastle signed Jefferson Farfan away from Spurs for £9.25 million and Everton spent £10.75 million for Gareth Barry. So it was a day for big spending.

I made the appropriate notes on my computer, on the list of senior squad players I keep for all our league opposition. The scouting department keeps track of clubs all over Europe so I can find out who has fallen out of favor at a given club – or just as importantly, who is playing well enough to perhaps earn a bid.

It was something to do for a few moments, until the players started to arrive and finally shift my mind onto my job. I got up and walked through the changing room as the squad arrived.

The team was smaller today – I’m allowed only five substitutes for the FA Cup as opposed to the seven I get in the league – so bench players Shane Long and Ivar Ingimarsson were left out today. That didn’t make them happy, of course, but I had to choose two and they were the ones.

Wordlessly, many of the players approached to shake my hand. Today, just for one day, they were putting aside thoughts of not playing or not getting as much playing time as they wanted, to share in my need to be with the squad. It was a grand gesture and it meant a lot.

I stepped to the center of the room for the pre-match team talk when everyone had changed into their game kit. “This is a chance for you to make a statement,” I said by way of opening. “You are playing the league leaders but you’ve beaten them already on their ground. Today you have the opportunity to show they can’t beat you here, either, though the punters are saying the opposite. Today, I want you to stay in your formation, work our schemes and deny them service to Adebayor. They’re going to have a lot of the ball because they always have a lot of the ball, but you can make sure they waste their possession if you play defensively like I know you can. Take it from them today. You aren’t expected to win but I think you can do it. Show them all.”

# # #

Our music today was quite far off the beaten path. After the standards, we made our final warmup to Judas Priest’s “You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’,” which for me said about all that needed to be said, at least from a footballing standpoint. I was clinging to that.

One life, I'm gonna live it up

I'm takin' flight, I said I'll never get enough

Stand tall, I'm young and kinda proud

I'm on the top as long as the music's loud

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by

You're thinkin' like a fool, ‘cause it's a case of do or die

Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had

You think I'll let it go, you're mad

You've got another thing comin'

Finally, referee Mike Dean blew his whistle to start the match. It wasn’t a moment too soon.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

When we played Arsenal at the Emirates, my main concern was getting through the first ten minutes unscathed. Here at our home, I confess to having the same worry.

They came out flying, trying to prove what the English sporting public already more than likely suspected – that our win over them was a fluke. Wenger started his first team and they showed they meant business early in the game.

They played their regular style, making no concession whatsoever to the fact they were playing on the road in front of a loud crowd that was virtually on top of them in comparison to their palatial home at Ashburton Grove.

As you’d expect of table-toppers, the Gunners tried to carry all before them. Adebayor flashed a header wide of Lobont’s left post five minutes into the match for the first sign of intent from either team – and a few minutes after that, we were behind.

The Arsenal engine room of Fabregas and Denilson was in high gear in a hurry, and in ten minutes they were giving us all kinds of trouble. Denilson started it with a pass to the left for Fabregas, who played in Adebayor with a lovely lead ball on the left, and he wasted no time in shooting from fifteen yards.

Lobont dove at full stretch to his left and slapped the ball away. However, all I could figure was that he must have struck the ball with his fist because it rebounded outside the penalty area off the keeper’s hands.

Enter Denilson, who had snuck back toward the ball on the weak side of the defense and got there before anyone else. With a first touch I could only describe as exquisite, he bent a perfect twenty-yard shot around the arms of Lobont, who had just scrambled back to his feet, and into the net for the first goal of the game.

Frankly, it was only what Arsenal deserved and such was the level of their expectation that they simply sauntered back to the center circle ready to return to play. They looked like they did it every day.

That was a little too cavalier for me, and their pride was starting to stick in my craw. Now fully into the match, I was shouting instructions at Jon Oster, playing for Faé on the right side of midfield, to kindly get forward and please make something happen. Only I wasn’t that polite.

The first time we played Arsenal, we did nothing at all for the first half-hour of the match. Today, though, at home, we started to show signs of life almost right away from their goal.

Kitson got the first opportunity, dragging a shot wide of keeper Lukasz Fabianski’s left post three minutes after Denilson’s goal, and Dagoberto headed over from a corner a few minutes later but was called for a foul on the keeper in so doing.

The fact remained that we were showing life much earlier in the match than we had in London, and that was a good sign. I thought for a moment that we might actually be feeling we could play on the same pitch with the Gunners and nodded with satisfaction at the thought of entertaining such hubris.

Then Maloney burst through the middle with goal-sc0rer Denilson hot on his heels. The Scot had picked Denilson’s pocket and caught him in possession thirty yards from goal and by the time Fabregas noticed, Maloney was already by him.

Shaun closed quickly and struck a blistering drive headed for Fabianski’s top left corner. The Pole was equal to the task, though, palming Maloney’s shot over the bar as the crowd groaned with disappointment.

However, we did have a corner, and Maloney trotted off to take it. As he did, I yelled from the touchline to Sonko.

“Get forward!” I yelled. “I want bodies forward!”

We’ve been working on our set piece alignment over the last couple of weeks and one of the things I want to do is fine-tune our corner alignment. My Padova team last year was deadly from set pieces (which was good since we were certainly weren’t deadly in most other places that weren’t the penalty spot), so my goal is to make us more of a threat in that area as well.

Sonko moved forward, all 6’3” of him, and stood next to Fabianski. That drew a response from Armand Traore, and the resulting jostling in the Arsenal six-yard box meant the keeper was in motion as Maloney put the ball into play.

Sonko, on the other hand, did a quick spin to free himself from Traore, who was ball-watching when the corner arrived in the six-yard box. Sonko rose to find the ball right on his forehead. He headed it home gleefully to get us level on a beautifully executed set piece.

Their lead lasted just nine minutes. After we went ahead at the Emirates in our last meeting, the look of disgust on Arsene Wenger’s face told the entire story.

Now I looked over at him and saw a different look – one of determination. That was a step in the right direction.

# # #

[Meszudo]

Mate this is a beauty of a story! Absolutely gold...loving it Plus, I actually quite liked Reading when they were playing in the Premiership too, I was very disappointed to see them slip back to the Championship.

[tenthreeleader]

Meszudo, thanks for your kind comments and welcome to the Rat Pack!

___

We were right back in it, and the Gunners knew it.

The pace of the match picked up on both sides of the ball. I would never have thought we could hang with Arsenal in a ‘track meet’ setting but as the half continued we matched them pace for pace.

The result was very entertaining football. There was a flow to the game that I hadn’t seen us enjoy for quite some time – the first half of the United match was the last time I could recall it – and the crowd really started to get into the match.

We attacked. They parried and countered. We defended tenaciously and countered in reply. It was great to watch, and I had to consciously remind myself that I was managing the match and not watching it for fun.

Back and forth the match flowed. Adebayor had a half-chance on twenty-five minutes that Lobont saved at full stretch, knocking the ball to the left corner where Rosenior picked it up. He lifted a short ball to Kalou, who had come deep to help out. He looked up in turn and launched a long ball for the run of Dagoberto at the center line.

The Brazilian took the ball in full flight, bringing it to ground with a terrific first touch. Defender Andrea Barzagli then moved up on the striker.

This was a mistake.

Dagoberto gave him a shoulder dip, flicked the ball to the outside, ran around Barzagli to the inside, reclaimed the ball and was off to the races. Already hopelessly beaten for pace, all the Italian could do was turn and pursue as best he could.

Now forced to cover our break by himself, Touré moved over to help. Dagoberto simply took the ball around him, reaching the Arsenal penalty area at a dead sprint. Still running at full speed, he shot with his right foot, bending a wonderful ball around Fabianski, who had come out to cut the angle.

The ball tucked in just inside the left post for a truly brilliant counter-attacking goal. The Madejski exploded with noise as we took the lead on the first goal for Dagoberto in far too long – but his tenth of the season in all competitions.

This was more like it. The match was pulsating, the technical level of our play was excellent and the league leaders were on the back foot. So far, so good. Now it was time to weather their storm.

It came quickly. This time, it was much harder to hold them off. Robin van Persie now got into the act, working a wonderful little ball into the box for Fabregas, who pushed a well-taken half-volley off Lobont’s crossbar before Sonko arrived to park the ball into the stands.

With Arsenal starting to assert themselves more forcefully, I moved us to 4-4-2 for the last ten minutes of the half to try to stabilize the midfield a bit more. Maloney had done damage in the raider position but now I needed him to do something different – harass Denilson until the break without Arsenal stretching our net again.

They didn’t, which was a source of some satisfaction to me as the teams left the pitch to applause from the crowd. For the neutral, it was a great half of football. For the players, it was a physical test. For the managers, I suspect it was more of an exercise in hypertension.

The players sat for their halftime break and I entered to sounds of general enthusiasm from the squad.

“That was really, really good,” I smiled. “I don’t have a bad thing to say. Denilson beat us with a perfectly placed shot but ours was just as good. Now the thing to remember is to get in their passing lanes and stay there. They are going to play their game or die trying. They’ll work it short, try for the perfect play and try to beat you by playing football.”

Then I smiled. “Do or die,” I repeated. “Gentlemen, it’s your task to make sure they’re buried, right out of the Cup.”

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Forty-five minutes can be a very long time. Trying to hold the lead in this match merely proved what I already suspected to be true.

The second started as the first half had ended – flowing football with two good clubs matching each other for pace. But as the minutes wore on, Arsenal reminded us why they’re the league leaders.

Their quality started to show through and our defense started to bend. If it wasn’t Adebayor threatening, it was captain-for-a-day Eduardo, who forced Lobont into a good save sixteen minutes after the restart after taking Fabregas’ lead ball just outside our area.

The momentum was shifting. However, I was still pleased with the eleven I had on the pitch. Just after the hour mark, when I usually start to think about substitution patterns and formations for the end of the match, I noted that even though they were getting more of the ball, we were standing up to them.

I did shift us into a counter game for the middle part of the second half, though. In our first meeting, that strategy had led to both of our late goals and I was hoping to catch lightning in a bottle again.

However, Lita was still on the bench so the bottle responsible for harnessing that lightning was still corked, if you will. Arsenal continued to move fairly freely through our midfield but attack after attack was dashed on the rocks of our defense. Sonko was particularly good, in a one-on-one battle with Adebayor that was really something to watch.

And, of course, we had Lobont. The goalkeeper was in top form in the second half, first denying Fabregas from in close on seventy minutes and then van Persie just two minutes later on a header from an Arsenal corner.

That was evidently enough for Wenger, who pulled van Persie at that moment in favor of Maxi Rodriguez. That was a bit puzzling to me – van Persie had buzzed around our defense for the entire match and made himself useful whenever he was on the ball – so I didn’t mind seeing him go.

At that point Wenger went to 4-3-3 and I pulled the center of our midfield deep to give us Pazienza in a deep holding position supported by Maloney. That wasn’t going to be sustainable for the rest of the way, though, and I knew it.

Harper knew it too, and was warming up on the touchline moments later, knowing he would go in for Shaun at the right moment.

Meanwhile, Arsenal kept buzzing. A Fabianski goal kick found the head of Denilson in our half and he nodded forward onto the run of Eduardo, now in a footrace with Gaspari.

To this point my young Italian defender had had a fairly quiet match, letting Sonko do battle with Adebayor. Now, though, he was front and center with Eduardo now racing toward goal.

The players reached the top of the penalty area and Gaspari made his challenge. He slid through Eduardo, hooking the ball with his right foot away from the striker, who fell over Gaspari’s leg in the process.

As one, we all looked at referee Mike Dean.

# # #

[salkster2102]

oh no dé ja vu possibly?

[tenthreeleader]

The referee waved play on.

Wenger then removed Traore and the nearly invisible Hleb for Carlos Vela and Alexandre Song. Now out of substitutions ten minutes from time, all he could do was watch and wait.

His switch to 4-2-4 cemented things in my mind. I then took off Maloney for Harper, took off the equally invisible Jon Oster in favor of Halls for a better defensive presence, went to 4-5-1 and sat down to watch the end of the match.

Seven minutes later, it was over. They hadn’t laid a glove on us – and Wenger was still looking for the answer on how to beat Reading.

Reading 2 (Sonko 2nd 19; Dagoberto 10th 25)

Arsenal 1 (Denilson 1st 10)

A – 24,191, Madejski Stadium, Reading

Man of the Match – Bogdan Lobont, Reading (3)

# # #

I thought of Patty as the match ended and sat in the dugout for a long moment before rising as the match ended. Wenger was waiting for the post-match handshake and I didn’t want to keep him waiting long.

We shook hands and the Frenchman gave me a puzzled look as a tear raced down my cheek. In a sporting gesture, I motioned for him to precede me off the pitch and we walked toward the tunnel.

“Rob, are you all right?” Dillon asked, walking to my immediate right.

“No, Kevin, I’m not,” I said. “Will you take the post-match media?”

“Of course. Do what you have to do.”

I did. I headed into the changing room for my post-match team talk and kept it as short as possible.

“Fellows, that was superb,” I said. “We’ve got Spurs coming up in London this weekend and you’d better be ready because they will be, after what you did to them last time we played. Tomorrow away, full training Monday at 9:30. Enjoy the win tonight but bear in mind that you need to be one hundred percent for Monday. Stick to your diet and no alcohol, please. Well done.”

With that, I went into the manager’s office, grabbed my coat, and was out of the stadium before the press even reached the interview area. It simply had to be that way.

# # #

Dillon stepped into the interview area at the stadium to a surprised reaction from the press corps.

“Where’s Rob?” Emiliani asked. “What’s going on here?”

# # #

[salkster2102]

aww emiliani is missing rob already lets hope dillon doesnt reveal anything or I feel ww3 coming on.

[SCIAG]

WW3- Newcastle against Italy

[tenthreeleader]

I drove to the charter terminal at Heathrow and waited.

Thankfully, she was flying home first class and reclining on the long flight. A feeling of overwhelming sadness took hold as I walked toward the arrival lounge, taking a seat in a corner to watch the world go by.

I arrived at eleven o’clock and waited for two and a half hours for the flight from New York to arrive. If I had gone home, I’d have driven myself insane, I thought. Why not be insane at the airport instead?

There wasn’t much to do. I had a book with me about the siege of Leningrad that I tried to read. History fascinates me but more and more my thoughts devolved into the personal siege Patty and I seem to be facing.

Finally, I started trading e-mail via handheld with my solicitor. As upset as we are, and with the issues we have been forced to deal with, I want to know my options. I want Patty’s name kept out of Kate’s divorce to the greatest extent possible so what would help the most is the records of that proceeding to be sealed like most divorces are.

Of course, the best thing that could happen is for the whole truth to come out so Patty can be vindicated, but since somehow I don’t feel like this is going to happen through the great British tabloid media, silence is the better option from my point of view.

Eaton thinks so as well. He was the other person who tried to reach me by e-mail this afternoon. “I didn’t want to bother you whie you were managing the match today,” he wrote, “but I do think the three of us should sit down as soon as possible when Patty is feeling up to it.”

“We’re going to need time,” I replied. “Patty will need time and I know we need time to grieve together.”

“I understand,” he answered. “But it is safe to say that your emotional pain will be lessened if the media do not interfere. Please consider my advice.”

I will. But as the plane finally landed and rolled to a stop near the jetway, public relations was the last thing on my mind.

Travelers started to appear one by one and finally, Patty appeared.

She looked very tired. She saw me, and I ran to her.

Softly, I took her in my arms and she buried her head in my shoulder, giving vent to her emotions.

“Rob, I’m so sorry,” she cried, clinging to me tightly.

“It’s not your fault,” I answered, gently leading her out of the doorway so as to avoid creating an even bigger scene. Soon we were around a corner and out of public view.

“It is my fault,” she sniffed, gaining a measure of control over herself. “I overreacted, I let it get to me and I lost the baby.”

“You can’t blame yourself and you don’t know why you miscarried. So I’m not going to let you blame yourself,” I said. “Unfortunately, these things do happen sometimes. That doesn’t make it easier, but you destroying yourself over it won’t help.”

“Rob, I haven’t slept since it happened,” she said. “They sedated me when they brought me to the hospital but I haven’t even closed my eyes since then. I flew halfway around the world including all the way across the Atlantic at night and never even dozed.”

I put my arm around Patty and gently led her to pick up her baggage. “Well, we’re going to fix that, I promise you,” I said, my eyes misting as I held her to me. “It’s time for us to spend some time healing and I’m just glad you’re home.”

We walked silently through a secured area to my car. “This is so hard, Rob,” she sighed, wiping a tear away. “I could never have imagined it would be this hard.”

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Sunday, January 4

It got hardest for us right as we arrived at home.

On the way to the master bedroom, we passed by what would have been the nursery, still stocked with basinet and other baby furniture. I looked into the room and stopped dead in my tracks.

“I should have shut that door,” I fumed at myself, moving to hide the sight from Patty’s view.

Instead, she touched my hand. “It would have been there whether or not you closed the door,” she said. “You don’t need to protect me from this, Rob. I need to face it.”

Together, we passed into the master bedroom. “Rob, why are you limping?” she asked.

“Broke a toe,” I said. “Tripped over one of your shoes, in fact.”

She smiled. “Well, at least you could think of me,” she said, in a brave attempt at levity.

“You hardly left my mind,” I said, helping her unpack her suitcase.

# # #

The morning papers were filled with news from yesterday – and for the time being, no news of why I skipped yesterday’s media briefing. I’m sure I’m going to have to answer for that sooner or later – sooner being the more likely.

Only a couple of clubs were embarrassed yesterday. Southend took out Charlton at The Valley by a 2-1 score while League Two Cheltenham Town earned a replay against Championship side Wolves thanks to a 2-2 draw that was reportedly quite a match.

This afternoon, word reached us of Bolton’s 10-0 demolition of Morecambe in the FA Cup Third Round, in a match that was unfortunately televised. Matches like that, where the big team sends out a nearly full-strength squad, don’t do much for the game’s image.

Meanwhile, we wait to see who we draw in the Fourth Round, and I’m hoping it’s not another member of the Big Four. It is important to me to meet the board’s expectations in the Cup competitions. We did that in the Carling Cup before getting bounced out by Aston Villa, and I hope to do it again in a competition that means a lot to me.

Yet today was a day to simply sit with Patty and let her relax. We didn’t even talk about the summons – we just aren’t ready for that yet – and Eaton called at mid-afternoon to both express his condolences to Patty and to remind us of the need to be ready when the next media storm hits.

“Freddie, we trust you,” I finally told him. “Write a statement. Whatever you think we should say, we’ll say.”

“What you ought to say, as I told you yesterday, is the truth,” he said. “That may be painful in the short term.”

“All right,” I said. “But what I really want is for this proceeding to be sealed as far as Patty is concerned. If they want to depose us, fine, but not at the expense of her reputation. That sort of bulls**t has cost us more than I can describe already.”

“Perfectly understandable,” he said. “Now, Patty, suppose you tell me what happened between you and Peter. Let me sort out the rest.”

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Monday, January 5

Well, it’s in the papers.

As I reported for training today and the start of our preparation for Spurs on Wednesday, the reason for my absence from the post-match news conference on Saturday hit full force.

The headlines ranged from factual (“Ridgway Tragedy” in the Telegraph) to the downright cruel (“Cradle Rob-bed” in The Sun). The writers, for the most part, kept to the factual and I appreciated that.

Columnist Stephen Henry, writing in The Telegraph, stuck to the script.

“Reading manager Rob Ridgway did not speak with the press after the Royals’ surprise 2-1 FA Cup win over Arsenal on Saturday. Instead, he met his wife, model Patricia Myers Ridgway, at Heathrow Airport.

Mrs. Ridgway returned home after a stay in Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles after miscarrying the couple’s first child late last week.

It is unknown whether Ridgway will manage Reading at midweek against Spurs. I can reveal that the club will issue a statement today.”

As a result, my first order of business this morning was to speak with Madejski.

“We need to know whether you will manage the side on Wednesday,” he said, getting right to the point.

“I will perform my responsbility,” I insisted. “I have a job I’m being paid to do and which the supporters expect me to do.”

“Though not at the expense of your wife,” he replied. “Rob, I want you to think about this before you answer.”

“I’ve already answered, and I’ve already talked about it with Patty,” I answered. “She knows it’s best for me to manage to try to get my mind back in order. I may even bring her to North London on Wednesday so she can get her mind off things for a few hours.”

“That is at your discretion,” my chairman said. “All I want as your employer is to know that you are prepared to do your job and if you aren’t, I want you to be honest with me. Surely no one will hold it against you because of what has happened within your family. Please know that whatever decision you make you will have the club’s full backing.”

“I understand, John,” I replied. “But I think it best that this club have its manager and it’s best for the manager that he have his club. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he said. “Best of luck to you but please know that if anything happens to change your mind you must feel free to tell me. We will accommodate you.”

# # #

[Manxie_Ash]

I actually welled up, thats was brilliant

[copperhorse21]

10-3,

You've got the Midas Touch with this story. "Rat Pack" continues to be a magnificent work of "fiction". I've got it quoted, because it's done so realistically, I keep forgetting that it's still based on a computer simulation.

[tenthreeleader]

Manxie, Copper, thank you for the kind words. Always good to know the muse is working

___

Training was better today, at least in terms of my mood. I would check in with Patty, resting at home, from time to time. She was rather surprised to receive a very nice floral arrangement from her former co-workers in Reading, which helped her mood to a point.

For me, though, getting back to work was what the doctor ordered. Two places will change from the Arsenal match for our rematch with Spurs at White Hart Lane – Ferreira for Halls and Faé for Oster.

The first order of business today was to watch excerpts from the first match – not so much for Spurs, but for ourselves. “This was a confident performance,” I said when the video was done. “They came in here in the top three in the league and you beat them 3-0. You were complete, you were comprehensive and you did the business in the first twenty minutes of the match. Just be aware of what that will mean for the rematch.”

“After you beat them, their season went straight into the dumpster,” I said. “They are only now climbing out of it to get back into the top half of the table. They will want their revenge and playing at their home their supporters will expect it. I expect that you will maintain your concentration when we go there and I expect that you will be prepared for what you will surely face from them.”

I was starting to warm up, and a few of the looks I saw on various faces around the room told me that the players were thinking they might actually have their manager back. That was great.

“You’ve gotten into the top three on pure merit,” I said. “You’ve stayed there on pure merit. Last year you were top right up to Christmas but then fell away. This year’s challenge is to maintain the league position you worked so hard to earn, and the only way to do that is to get results in places like White Hart Lane, when you know God and everybody is looking to take your scalp.”

“When we get into the reverse fixtures from the first half of the season, most of the teams we play will be after you because you had such a great first half,” I reminded them. “Now comes the time when we make the physical training count, when we make the passing drills you hate so much count, when we make the wind sprints you hate even more turn those matches into three point winners instead of one. Who wants it? Do you want it? If you want it, now’s the time to show it.”

Kitson, as I spoke, turned to Lita. “I think he actually believes what he’s saying,” the targetman grinned.

“He does,” Lita replied. “So do I. Don’t you?”

# # #

[Balthazars]

Wind spirits? I still face a mountain of back-reading to catch up properly, so perhaps my understanding of him is not up to scratch, but is Rob usually such a superstituous sort? To be honest he doesn't strike me as such, although I guess I could forgive him given he's been through a lot recently...

10-3, your work is a delight to read.

[ohaio]

Just want to say this is an amazing read, really enjoying it!!

[Kewell08]

Wind sprints, Balth. A form of fitness training I would guess.

[stoehrst]

Wind sprints are also known in America as "suicides." Whenever I had to do them for football, baseball, or track practice, I often wondered if the physical benefit was in actual conditioning, or learning just how far you were willing to go before all the vomit in the world couldn't stop you from hanging yourself, if you had the energy.

[tenthreeleader]

Quite right, gents ... one of Rob's "Americanisms". It's a form of training torture, though not as bad as an "up-down". American football players HATE them.

___

This afternoon we learned our FA Cup Fourth Round opponent. We will host Coventry City, currently in tenth place in another competitive Championship table.

Their record is average – 10-8-9 – as you might expect for a side slightly above mid-table. However, they’re also only four points out of a playoff position with plenty of football left to be played. We will have to be careful.

We also learned that Spurs will be without one of their strikers whe new play them. Darren Bent is off to Middlesbrough for £10.5 million as Gareth Southgate looks to strengthen an area of his squad where he’s had real trouble. West Ham also signed Abdoulaye Faye from Newcastle for £3.9 million, so the wheels are already spinning on the transfer train.

# # #

Tuesday, January 6

One of the things I’m occasionally required to do is to appear publically on behalf of the organization. Tonight was one of those nights.

With the Spurs match looming tomorrow, I was scheduled to attend a rally at The Oracle tonight with Sonko to sign autographs and hype the opening of a new Reading Megastore outlet. Anything to raise a few quid for the cause.

My relationship with the big central defender is repaired. It was never truly ruptured, but since the issue surrounding his contract was resolved, he hasn’t whispered a word against anything or anyone associated with the club. His agent, on the other hand, is still on my list. That isn’t a terribly positive place to be for most people.

Tonight, though, three of us went on the evening trip. Patty came with me, mainly because she didn’t want to be left alone this evening. I couldn’t blame her for that and I figured it would be good to get her out with people.

The other reason we went together was that Kate’s firm wasn’t handling the public relations. Had this been the case, Patty wouldn’t have wanted to go and I wouldn’t have been too keen on letting her make the trip with me anyway. Not that she needs my permission – but there are times when I do put my foot down. While being on my list isn’t fun for most people, being on Patty’s list is a black hole from which few return.

Silently, we drove to the shopping center and after a long few minutes, she made an attempt at conversation.

“Ready for tomorrow?” she asked.

“As ready as I’m going to get,” I answered. “It’s okay for you to make the trip and I’ve got a seat for you right behind our bench.”

“That would be lovely,” she said. “Watching from the directors’ suite at home is nice but I’d really like to be closer to you when I watch for a change.”

I smiled at the thought as we pulled into the car park at the shopping center. We were shown to a roped-off area where Sonko was already waiting for us.

Patty and I greeted him, and together we entered the store through the employee entrance.

“Hoping for an early night, boss,” Sonko said. “I’d like to get enough sleep tonight.”

“You mean you didn’t last night?” I asked.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replied. “Big match tomorrow. I have to be ready.”

I admired his attitude and resolved to get him out of the place as soon as I could. However, I hadn’t counted on the reception we received when we passed through the back of the store on the way to the front.

There were hundreds of people waiting for us, and when we arrived at the front they broke into one spontaneous cheer. I motioned to Sonko.

“Like I told you on Saturday – get forward and make something happen,” I grinned, handing him a Sharpie marker and a packet of publicity pictures.

He laughed. “A bit of a different situation,” he smiled, taking a chair just outside the entrance. As people entered the store, they had a chance to stop by the table and meet the defender for an autograph before heading inside for a look at the merchandise. I sat at the back with Patty in case I was needed for anything.

As it turned out, I was. People were entering the store and heading straight for me and for Patty at the back of the room. So they set up a second table, where I sat while Patty headed to the back room to stay out of sight.

I was surprised, in meeting the supporters up-close, that there were very few comments about who ought to be playing. Some fans I’ve met in my time haven’t been shy about either discussing the quality of my play when I was active, or even what I ought to be doing as a manager. However, tonight wasn’t about that.

“Beat Spurs,” one man said simply, as he pushed a team picture forward for me to sign. “That’s all that matters.”

“Thank you,” I said, as I signed for him. “That’s what we intend to do.”

The words drew a cheer from those who were close enough to the table to hear it. Things were going very well.

[Kewell08]

Suicides! I know them well... Good stuff as always tenthree.

[Marchie]

Excellent!

[tenthreeleader]

Thank you, gentlemen ...

___

The line of people waiting to get in bent around the corner. One older lady even brought a copy of my old replica Reading shirt for me to sign.

“I didn’t know anyone made those,” I laughed, signing on the back by my surname.

“It was a bit difficult to find,” the woman laughed. At that time, Patty re-emerged from the back room and approached me.

“Having fun?” she asked. “I thought I’d come out here for a bit.”

“It’s been interesting,” I admitted. Then I looked at my watch. The line had shortened and it was approaching time to leave.

I stood, after making sure those waiting for an autograph got one, and told Sonko to head home. He smiled, we shook hands, I reminded him that the coach for London left at two o’clock, and he was gone.

“What say you and I take a look around?” I asked, and my wife took my arm softly.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled, snuggling close to me. “Let’s go.”

With that, we left, and the new Reading megastore was opened for business. We rounded the corner to walk around the Oracle and try to start living our lives again.

We entered the main concourse and I heard a voice behind me.

“It’ll be good to finally get my hands on you in court, Ridgway.”

It was McGuire. I boiled over.

# # #

[Kewell08]

Don't do it. Nothing good will come of it, as Peace can attest...

[tenthreeleader]

“Get out of my face,” I warned him. “You’re asking for it.”

“Asking for what?” he challenged. “For me to tell the truth?”

“You can’t even spell the word,” I replied. “Last warning – get away from us or I’m calling security.”

“I heard about your baby,” he said.

# # #

[stoehrst]

KILL HIM.

I would.

[salkster2102]

oh dear this looks like its going to get ugly. mcguire is an idiot taking on a guy almost twice the size of him