[FM15] Raising Cain

[Maviarab.]

Gahhhthems are the breaks...but harsh stuff. Just not to be...let's hope with some additions we can storm to the top early on next season

[BoxToBox]

Well, if they'd had Cain all season, it seems like they'd have been comfortably promoted, can't see why that won't be the case next year.

[tenthreeleader]

Thanks so much for the kind words, men ... but for Kyle, Wembley was about more than just a football match.

___

Kyle walked toward Micky Mellon and, numbly, shook his hand. Then he headed onto the Wembley pitch to try to console his players.

They were standing, kneeling and prone on the turf in various states of despair.

Wright, the captain, stood with his hands on top of his head in disbelief. MacDonald, who had played and lost in a playoff final for the second season on the spin, lay face down on the grass, shoulders heaving. He was giving in to emotion. Hoban and Hylton were each down on a knee near the center circle, facing in opposite directions with nothing to say to each other.

It was the most personal of moments for a player – that moment when all the work, all the effort and all the pain is measured and found to be an inch short of the mark.

Kyle first went to Ashdown, who had played very well and earned his place, and embraced his veteran keeper. Next was Wright, as teammates tried to console MacDonald, and the manager had a kind word for his captain.

“We don’t get this far without you,” Kyle reminded him, and Wright nodded, finding it hard to speak. Eventually, he got to every one of his players and then applauded the huge Oxford support.

Across the way, the Shrewsbury players were finishing their on-pitch celebrations and Kyle noted some of his players heading over to congratulate them. It was the sporting thing to do and even though he wasn’t feeling especially sporting at that moment, Kyle knew what his next instruction had to be.

After the handshakes, he called his players to him and there they gathered, in the middle of the Oxford penalty area.

“You did everything I could have asked of you,” he told them, trying not to look them in the eyes just yet. “I am very proud of this team and very proud to be your manager. Next year it’s going to be this team that’s going to be doing the arse-kicking in this league and we won’t be playing in this game. We’ll earn our way to League One without any debate. Now, remember how this feels and do whatever you have to do this summer to make sure you never have this feeling again.”

With that, Kyle lined up his players in front of the stairs to the famed Wembley balcony to give the Shrewsbury players a guard of honor while they claimed their trophy and medals.

That hurt. The natural expressions of joy from Mellon and his players were perfectly understandable but very hard to watch. The moment they were all on the balcony, Kyle directed his players to their supporters for one final time. Players and fans shared one last moment together before the players began the long walk to the tunnel.

As Kyle arrived at the tunnel entrance, he heard a roar from the crowd. He turned to see Mellon holding up the playoff trophy and he had to fight back tears. He wanted to be in Mellon’s position more than anything in the world.

And he wasn’t.

Kyle took a turn in the opposite direction and headed to the post-match news conference, which was harder still.

“I thought we did enough,” he said. “I won’t ever believe that Will was offside, and our second half showed we deserved a better fate. But credit to Shrewsbury, they won the match, and they are going up while we are going back to the drawing board.”

“Is that what you told the players?” Kyle couldn’t see his questioner due to the glare of television lights but he agreed.

“In essence, yes,” he said. “Right now there really isn’t anything I can say to them that would be a comfort. We’ve just lost a final and they need time to absorb that.”

“And so do you.” That was Churchill, whose voice Kyle would recognize anywhere.

“Yes, so do I,” he said. “I really thought we’d do this.”

“The injuries really had to hurt you,” he followed.

“Well, I think it’s fairly obvious that we approach this game differently if we have Callum O’Dowda and James Maddison in our eleven,” he said. “But this game is ‘next man up’ when people are hurt and we all know that. It would be a slight to our existing players to say anything more than that. We played a very strong match with the eleven we had and our fans had every right to expect that.”

Mellon was gracious once he finally got to the media room, and Kyle appreciated that. It wouldn’t have done to talk badly, and Oxford had been much the better side for the entire second half.

Yet, it hadn’t been enough. Mellon finished his news conference with the trophy sitting next to him on the interview table, and Kyle stared at it from a distance until he couldn’t look any more.

With that, he took the long walk down the tunnel to his players, and finally, Kyle gave in to the consequences of failure.

By the time he reached the changing room, tears finally stung his eyes, the salt burning as they rolled down his cheeks. He wanted this win more than anything else he had experienced in football because it meant redemption and success.

Like so much else in his life, both had eluded Kyle Cain.

# # #

[Maviarab.]

Heart-breaking....well written

[tenthreeleader]

“Fight on, my men,” Sir Andrew Said

“A little I’m hurt but not yet slain.

“I’ll just lie down and bleed a while,

“And then I’ll rise and Fight again.”

- The Ballad of Sir Andrew Barton

The coach ride back to Oxfordshire was long. It seemed like it would last forever.

Not surprisingly, it was also silent for the vast majority of the trip. Players were lost in thought, some in their music, others simply looking out the window.

The devastation of losing a final hung like a pall over the players as the miles rolled under the coach wheels. It was only fifty miles, but for a losing team the distance from Wembley to the Kassam seemed only slightly less than that of Earth to Mars.

It took awhile to get onto the M40, which only made things worse. Defeat was bad enough. Defeat and being stopped on the freeway was nearly intolerable.

Texts started to flood onto Kyle’s phone. Club officials, Eales, Jenna, friends. They all seemed to say the same general thing: nice try. At least Jenna’s said “I love you, dad,” at the end.

He even got a text from Moore, which he cringed to read. It read:

“League Two isn’t so bad. Maybe you’ll get it right next time.”

He wasn’t sure how to take that given the woman’s known history of muckraking, but he chose to take it as supportive even as the woman who had sworn Kyle as an enemy had sent a message which could have been taken either way.

Finally, though, the Oxford coach reached home. A decent crowd was gathered at the Kassam to welcome the team back – many of the fans who hadn’t attended the match but rather followed it at the stadium were there to wait to the bitter end.

The coach rolled to a stop and Kyle stepped into the aisle.

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” he said. “Enjoy your holidays and we’ll see what we can do to grow the club from here. You’ve all played a part and I’m grateful to all of you.”

With that, he got off the coach.

Kyle looked to his left. He saw Allison standing near a light standard by the player’s entrance.

Kyle looked to his right. He saw Stacy standing less than twenty feet away.

Both women were waiting for him.

He had decisions to make, on more than one front.

# # #

[Maviarab.]

Uh oh......

[tenthreeleader]

Obviously, May had been a great month financially for Oxford United, one which put the club over the top for the season in terms of its bottom line.

The club earned £560,000 as its share of gate receipts from the playoffs in addition to £250,000 in prize money for reaching the playoff final. Oxford United made a profit of £680,000 for the month even after paying a tax bill, and the net result was a profit of £650,000 for the season.

Diana Moore did her job as well, earning the club substantial upgrades in sponsorships for the coming season. The amount of money generated by sponsorships nearly doubled including large increases to sponsorship totals on both the home and away kits.

Andy Drury of Luton Town, who was not fancied by media in any reasonable fashion prior to the voting, snipped the Player of the Year award thanks to his six goals and league-leading 18 assists.

As expected, O’Dowda, Maddison and MacDonald all were named to the Team of the Year, with the team’s three entrants second only to league champion Portsmouth’s four.

And as for the Manager of the Year …

…Gareth Ainsworth, who guided Wycombe Wanderers to second place with 86 points and automatic promotion, won the honor and would receive it with his team playing in League One.

Kyle Cain did not feature in the final voting. And his major decision remains, as yet, unmade.

THE END

# # #

“Remember, kid. No one knows nothing. You hire the greatest composer,

the hottest choreographer, the biggest star, the best orchestrator, and, when

you put ‘em all together, it just lies there and it dies there.”

– Irving Caesar

# # #

[mark wilson27]

This can't be the end. How could you do this to us...

[Maviarab.]

The end? Whut?....nooooooo Tenthree!

[tenthreeleader]

Oh, you guys know me by now ... Copper taught me everything I know about the cliffhanger ...

[Maviarab.]

That...that...that's no cliffhanger Tenthree...that's 90mph into a brick wall! hehe

[oatsie]

Been reading this but keeping quiet - however I couldn't remain silent any longer. Please say you are continuing the story, it has been fantastic so far.

[tenthreeleader]

Thanks very much for the comments, gentlemen. Oatsie, if you haven't reached the end yet, hope you continue to enjoy. The successor to this piece is new to the board - "Kyle Cain's Flying Circus".

[Gdawg69]

Not much of a participant, but I have to comment to say this is one of the finest football manager pieces I have ever read.

And written by a fellow Ger to boot :-)