[FM15] Kyle Cain's Flying Circus

[tenthreeleader]

Stevenage had played tail-end Eastleigh, and had won by the same score. No surprise, that. They remained two points behind Oxford, but after doing the duty with the press after the match, Kyle returned to his office to see a note on his desk from Eales.

 

It contained financial information so it had a red “eyes only” message on it. Kyle closed his door and wondered what he would find.

 

The club was doing quite well financially, especially for one of its size. The prize money from the previous season’s playoff run was still there, in the main, and the bank balances were positive.

 

But something had come up.

 

“Club debt levels have increased to the point where we must make an alteration to transfer budgets. Until further notice, reinvestment in the playing squad from player sales will be limited to 30 percent.”

 

Short and sweet. And interesting. The club was doing very well in sales – Diana Moore had seen to that – and attendances were pretty good with the club sitting at the top of the table. There were also Cup ties coming up.

 

Oxford had been drawn at home to Hampton and Richmond Borough in the First Round. Since the board expected the Second Round from Kyle, he was hoping his side would be able to overcome the challenge of the Isthmian Premier League side on its own patch.

 

Borough had conquered Bishop Sutton, Staines Town and, most recently, AFC Hornchurch behind a brace from leading scorer Jamar Dobson. Then would come a matchup with MK Dons in the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy South Quarterfinals. More chances for people to play, and the reason the squad was a little bit bigger than it probably needed to be at that point in time.

 

But the financial aspect of the club’s situation made Kyle frown. Everything he had been told at the October board meeting was positive. He’d of course hear more in November but he wondered if he would be asked to sell in January.

 

That would be too bad – these players were buying in, and they were playing extremely well as a unit. It didn’t make sense.

 

But, he mused as he put a few items in his personal bag for the trip home, that was modern football. It didn’t always make sense. Clubs had always been businesses and the number one objective of a business was to turn a profit so it could stay a business.

 

He was in first place, but as Kyle headed home, he didn’t feel much like a winner

 

Another trip to the southwest loomed – this time to Torquay’s nominal rival, Exeter City – and Kyle wanted it to go better than the last trip to the south coast had done.

 

The Grecians stood in 20^th place in the table. That should have counted for something, but the Oxford boss was fully aware that it only meant something after the match was over.

 

Before was another matter. Before he left his office, he tossed a text message at someone he thought could help him answer a few questions.

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

“It’s not as bad as all that, Kyle,” Diana said. “I’m sure Mr. Eales is just being prudent.”

 

That made sense to him, but at the Monday training after the Saturday match, Kyle had asked for a few minutes of his old rival’s time. He now expected a friendlier disposition from her and he wasn’t disappointed when she headed down the hall to talk to him.

 

She was sat across from him at the manager’s desk – he had remembered how unpleasant the last time had been when she was in the office – and the two talked things through.

 

“The balances are good,” she repeated. “But it is Mr. Eales’ team and he can do with it whatever he likes. I’m just glad you told me this. I’d have found out at the board meeting in a few days but this gives me a chance to quietly set a few new revenue targets to get ahead of where the board might be heading in its thinking.”

 

“I’m glad I could help,” Kyle replied, not having thought of things in quite that way but trying to make Moore think that he had.

 

“You’re going to make me look good,” she said, “and I appreciate that.”

 

Kyle laughed. “Around here, people seem to be very interested in that sort of thing.” He took a sip from a cup of tea at his desk. She looked at it, and then at him, with an interested expression.

 

“I’m sorry, Diana, I didn’t offer,” he said, blushing. “Would you care for a cup?”

 

She gave him a smile that could have only been described as dazzling. “Thank you,” she said. “I’d love some.”

 

He turned to a pot behind his desk, grabbed a second cup and a saucer, and poured the marketer a sampling. “Cream and sugar?”

 

“No, plain is fine,” she replied. “Let’s see if you know how to brew a decent cuppa.”

 

Kyle handed Diana the saucer, cup balanced nicely within, and she took it from his outstretched hand. She took a sip and smiled.

 

“I guess you do,” she smiled. She paused.

 

“Do you mind if I ask how things are at home?”

 

Kyle sighed. “No, not at all,” he said, equalizing her kindness. “Stacy’s gone. She has Owen. I suppose I have to go to a judge to get time to see the lad, it’s been over a week now and I don’t really even know where they are. I guess they’re with that Stokes fella, I don’t know.”

 

“Kyle, that’s your son,” she said. “Don’t you want to know?”

 

At another time, Kyle would have reacted angrily to that question, especially coming from the person asking it now. But this time, he just shook his head.

 

“I’ll be blunt, Diana, because I really don’t know another way to say this: I don’t know what to do. I know I need to ask my counsel, but right now I just don’t want to make a scene. That would reflect badly upon the club and upon me as well. I don’t know how to handle it.” He took a sip from his cup, and warmed the contents from the pot.

 

“You know what,” she said, locking eyes with him. “I feel badly for you. I know you tried to turn things around and it didn’t work out, and you don’t deserve that.”

 

“I’d like to think I don’t, yeah,” Kyle said, now wanting to change the subject. “But I learnt a long time ago that when things aren’t going well, nobody’s going to stand up for you but yourself.”

 

“That’s not true,” Moore immediately replied. “If I may venture a criticism, Kyle, and it’s one I’ve made before, sometimes you just don’t know where to look for friends.”

 

“Are you offering?” Kyle answered, perhaps more directly than he wanted to.

 

“Yes, you silly man,” she smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m offering. I know you were reluctant to talk with me before Stacy left, but I have to show you that I’m genuine. I’ve been waiting for a way and maybe this is it.”

 

“You understand why, of course,” he answered, and now it was Moore’s turn to frown.

 

“I do but I have to confess I didn’t much like it,” she said. “You were protecting yourself. Soon there won’t be any need for that.”

 

“Well, if that’s what you’re offering then I accept,” Kyle said. He still wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing, but Diana Moore’s expression certainly didn’t belie any sense of harm.

 

# # #

[ChileanRanger]

This'll end well...🙄

[tenthreeleader]

Might ... might not!

____

There were six days between matches now, and that gave Kyle a full three days to train the team before leaving for the south coast. That helped – despite the strong performance against York, Kyle wanted to work out a few bugs.

 

Those bugs were, in general, defending-related. It was always going to be the case that with the Flying Circus, holes would inevitably appear at the back, but where Oxford United appeared to be heading, there were times they would need to think of something different.

 

The style of football Kyle had Oxford playing was beautiful to watch when it was working well, but against a tough, disciplined opponent it could often resemble eleven drunks trapped in a revolving door. The tactic relied upon expressive players finding space, crossing early and getting the ball forward into positions where strong players like Gnanduillet could knock it down, hold it up, or get it further forward for players like Hoban to poach.

 

It relied on the other team trying to run with the Us, and there weren’t many clubs in the league who could do that, even though a lot of them tried. It was, as Ruud Guulit might have said, damned sexy football. A team in League Two that got in a track meet with Oxford United was doomed. But a team that kept its bottle could often hold its own.

 

That meant Kyle’s players had to pay more attention to the defensive side of the ball than many of them seemed willing to do sometimes. It meant being a lot better at defending against the counter. And it required complete concentration, a thing at times annoyingly lacking in certain players.

 

So a week’s training was just what the doctor ordered. It was fun to train when things were going well, so the kinds of things Kyle needed to instill were taken better after a 4-0 win than they might have been otherwise.

 

There was the usual protestation of “who kept the clean sheet last week, gaffer?” from the usual suspects, but Kyle would have none of it. This was a time to crack the whip, provided it wasn’t done too harshly.

 

Fazackerley approved too, which was heartening to Kyle. The thought of his deputy retiring at the end of the season brought genuine sadness to Kyle – in addition to being strong tactically, he also had a keen eye for talent and as such Kyle got his opinion on every player the scouting department suggested who also happened to tickle the manager’s interest.

 

In short, even though he didn’t have a lot of reason to feel that way, Kyle Cain was starting to feel some pressure. It was entirely self-placed, and it was almost entirely needless. But that was the way his brain operated, and that was perhaps the least attractive part of his managerial personality.

 

But, he thought, it was also the kind of personality that would finally lead to the success he craved. Sweating the details now would pay off in April and May, when everyone was exhausted and points were at an absolute premium. Better to work hard now than have to work hard later out of necessity.

 

At least, that was what he thought.

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

30 October 2015 – Exeter City (4-3-8, 20^th place) v Oxford United (11-3-1, 1^st place)

Sky Bet League Two Match Day #16 – St. James’ Park, Exeter

Referee: Andy Haines

 

If he had had to choose St. James’s Parks in order of preference, Kyle would probably have chosen the one in Newcastle. But since other clubs were playing there that day, the one in Exeter would have to do.

 

The Grecians were off to a poor start, winning only four of their first fifteen games and looking over their shoulders at the bottom two places. So far they were far enough away to keep the wolves from Mark Yates’ door, so the Exeter boss was still comfortable enough to offer Kyle a pre-game cup of tea and a chat as the Oxford coach arrived at the ground.

 

The usual pleasantries were exchanged and Kyle left to prepare his team for the match thinking that Yates was a half-decent bloke. He never knew when he’d have to ask for a favor, and being on good terms with an opposing boss was never the worst thing in the world.

 

Then Yates put out his team in 4-1-4-1 and dared Oxford to get close to their goal.

 

As Kyle had seen indirectly, daring Armand Gnanduillet could sometimes lead to adverse consequences, and the Ivorian took exactly four minutes to drive Yates to distraction under the simplest of circumstances. O’Dowda won a free kick on the left in the Exeter City third and his left-footed cross into the box found the tallest player on the park gloriously, and nearly criminally, unmarked. His header was true and Oxford led on his fifth goal of the season.

 

Unfortunately that was as good as it got for the Us in the first half, as Yates’ team rallied around Christy Pym and kept the score at 1-nil all the way to the break. Oxford had played reasonably well but lacked incisiveness after the early breakthrough.

 

Still, a lead away was just fine with Kyle and he reinforced the home truth at halftime that winning would be a lot easier if the team could find a way to kill off the game.

 

The person who helped in that process was the unfortunate Pym, who flailed away at a MacDonald cross from the byline eight minutes after the restart and actually punched the ball into his net for a rather ridiculous own goal to make it 2-0.

 

“Sometimes they help you,” Kyle mused as he watched his team turn up the heat. Grandison was next, rediscovering his scintillating form of earlier in the season with a play you had to see to believe. Taking a lead ball from Gallifuoco on the right, he found himself with a step of space inside the area. Instead of cutting the ball back, he instead found a way to nutmeg defender Craig Woodman who was desperately trying to close him down.

 

The defender dealt with, Grandison struck a shot that beat Pym to the short side, the keeper’s left, and deflected in grazing the goalpost for good measure. His grin was infectious, a combination of skill and good fortune that had Oxford three goals up with an hour gone.

 

The Flying Circus was back, but someone forgot to tell the Grecians. Stung to their cores, they responded six minutes later through Tom Nichols who beat Ashdown cleanly from the top of the penalty area. For some reason, the keeper attempted to save at feet instead of using his body and arms, which annoyed Kyle and even made Fazackerley frown.

 

“He knows better than that,” the assistant manager said. “He had to have been wrongfooted.”

 

That turned out to have been the case, but poor footwork from a shot that beats you from eighteen yards didn’t make Kyle any happier. What did make him more pleased was Grecians right fullback Brad McGowan picking up two cards in eight minutes. His dismissal by referee Andy Haines on 80 minutes reduced the home side to ten and Kyle felt he could relax a bit.

 

That supposition was wrong, as the ten men scored in injury time through Nichols. It was a shut-off moment from Wright, who allowed the striker to spin around him, find space and beat an understandably angry Ashdown from thirteen yards in the third minute of added time.

 

It made for a more interesting finish, but Oxford had found a way to make it interesting. It gave Kyle some food for thought on the long ride home.

 

Exeter City 2 (Tom Nichols 65, 90+3; Brad McGowan s/o 80)

Oxford United 3 (Gnanduillet 4, Christy Pym o/g 53, Grandison 59)
H/T: 0-1

A – 3,507, St. James’ Park, Exeter

Man of the Match: Tom Nichols, Exeter City (MR 8.6)

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

There was a week to prepare for non-league Hampton & Richmond on the FA Cup weekend, but Kyle’s mood wasn’t improved by another injury to Matty Willock. The loan midfielder was fighting for fitness in an under-21 matchup against Aston Villa when he pulled his right hamstring stretching for a ball.

 

Four to five more weeks on the shelf for the young man and Kyle’s first choice in the holding position was lost to the team once more. The good news was Danny Hylton, trying to get himself noticed for senior consideration, netted twice in a 2-2 draw.

 

Despite the fact that this was the match the board expected to see won, Kyle drank deeply from the draught of the u-21s for his starting eleven.

 

Max Crocombe, New Zealand’s number one when he got enough match time, was going to play goal, and Jassem Sukar, the enticing Egyptian center-half, would play in front of him. Up came Johnny Mullins as well, with Ashby, Hylton and Andrew Whing also earning cameo appearances.

 

Kyle was hopeful for Ashby to stay healthy for a little while, as he had first been injured at the start of the season and then fallen victim to Rothwell’s sustained excellence at his preferred position. The XI was chosen early and as a result they got a week to train as a unit. This gave Kyle hope for a big day at home on the Saturday.

 

He also had plenty of time to warn the squad against complacency and he had the best platform from which do it – a match won but which offered opportunities for learning.

 

If the players thought the gaffer was overreacting to Exeter City’s late goal with ten men, they didn’t say anything about it and that was what was good for them.

 

“I keep telling you lads, you need to be mindful of what goes on in your third, and this just shows that the old man sometimes has an idea what the f**k he’s talking about,” he told them after the Wednesday session. The work that week had been primarily on defensive positioning and he hadn’t liked everything he had seen.

So, he had let the players have an earful as they headed for the training room.

 

To except Gnanduillet’s tender ears, Kyle had talked to the defenders about minding their responsibilities instead of pointing fingers at each other, as had happened too many times during training that day. The spirit of the squad was excellent, because the team had been winning, but what Kyle didn’t want to see was abrogation of responsibility.

 

The general reaction to the impromptu meeting was “it’s all in fun, boss,” but Kyle wasn’t buying it. He had seen players, especially Wright, who should have known better, switching on and off seemingly at will and it needed to stop.

 

“What I am telling you is this: I’m watching,” he finally said. “Your objective as players is to be as sure as you can be that you don’t give me a reason to sit you down for a match or two. Are we clear on that?”

 

The resulting silence, respectful as much as anything else, told Kyle that his message had been received.

 

And when he got home, he was happy to see Jenna back after another evening out with Miles.

 

“I’ve been thinking of moving in with him,” she admitted. “Really, it’s time. We’re talking about getting married when the time is right.”

 

“You’re too young,” Kyle immediately replied, suddenly tiring of such open opposition to what he felt was his authority on more than one front.

 

“I’m old enough to have your grandchild, Dad,” she responded. “And really, wouldn’t you rather have Miles be an honest man?”

 

He hated it when she had a point – and in this case, she certainly did.

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

7 November 2015 – Oxford United v Hampton & Richmond

FA Cup First Round – Kassam Stadium, Oxford

Referee: Andy Woolmer

 

“Okay, men, show me what you can do.”

 

Kyle already had a pretty good idea of what some of the faces now looking at him could, or as importantly could not, do. That was why they were sat in front of him wearing Oxford United colors today instead of more regular players who were watching from the stand.

 

He had said earlier in the season that he didn’t have first and second teams, and to an extent that was true, but there was no doubt that these players had a point to prove. There was more than enough steel in the team to give fans reason to expect a comfortable victory, but there were players ready to take the pitch who did in fact have something to prove.

 

One of them was Josh Ashby. He sat in front of his locker after the team talk, hands folded, staring at the floor. Once the players had taken the pitch for warm-ups, Kyle’s rules were plain: no phones, no headphones, no music, nothing that would detract from the moment at hand.

 

Ashby seemed to get that. They all did. But they were quietly talking among themselves while the midfielder tried to find that little bit of extra focus which might somehow vault him past Rothwell in the United pecking order.

 

The on-loan man had been superb, no doubt about it – his average rating was the single highest in League Two at this early stage – but Ashby was regarded as one for the future and he bore special watching. It was more than fair to say that Joe Rothwell’s future didn’t, at least for the moment, lie at Oxford United. Josh Ashby’s did, and now was the time for him to prove it.

 

Rothwell wasn’t even in the room today, not having been named to the eighteen, so for the time being the club’s midfield strings were Ashby’s to pull.

 

Ashby’s reaction was one thing to watch. Danny Hylton’s was another. Mullins put a forty-yard cross right on the striker’s forehead at the back post of Brandon Hall’s goal eight minutes into the match and it was nearly impossible for Hylton to miss. He headed home with ease and United led.

 

Forty-seven seconds later, Hylton was celebrating again, this time after a horror show by the visitors’ back line. Harrop started it this time, with a cross for MacDonald which the Scot volleyed on goal. Hall parried but only as far as defender Tom Hamblin, who tried to dribble out of the box. That was his first mistake, and not seeing Hylton swooping in from his right was his second.

 

Hylton picked Hamblin’s pocket and with Hall quite literally in no position to resist, 2-0 was a foregone conclusion. The double-quickfire strike had for practical purposes killed off the game, but Kyle wanted to see a professional effort for ninety minutes, especially against lower-caliber opposition.

 

The double-quickfire strike also had the deleterious effect of switching off most of Oxford’s forward players, who saw scoring would be child’s play on this day.

 

Two-nil to the good inside ten minutes was therefore both good and a cause for vigilance. Play continued, with the home team easily holding off their non-league visitors, but unable to find a third breakthrough in the first half.

 

That was, until added time, when Hoskins shook loose in the penalty area and buried a shot in the lower left corner of Hall’s goal that put the issue beyond any kind of doubt by halftime.

 

Referee Andy Woolmer blew for halftime and Kyle had a chance to congratulate his players on a professional effort. Harrop had been especially good in the first 45 minutes, a performance that should have been expected from a Manchester United trainee against lower level opposition.

 

The second half, though, wasn’t quite as antiseptic. Charlie Moone scored a shock goal for the visitors directly from a corner six minutes after the restart that had Kyle shaking his head.

 

It had been quite a long time indeed since Oxford United had surrendered a goal straight from a set piece, the defending of which had become a personal priority for Fazackerley in training. He was actually more upset than his boss, looking at Kyle for word that he could get up from the bench.

 

Kyle nodded, and this time it was the assistant manager who went to the touchline for a loud word for Sukar and Gallifuoco, a rather unlikely pairing in the middle but also one which had been victimized in a very public way.

 

The Egyptian deserved his callup, there had been no doubt about that. Having played five Premier League matches for Sunderland earlier in his career, a League Two u-21 side was far too easy for him, and as such he needed better competition. Nobody in Oxford colors thought Moone fit that description, though, so the young defender took his medicine with good grace. Not so Gallifuoco, the former Swansea man who was showing why the Swans had let him go on a free.

 

Kyle was trying to figure out how to get the best out of the Australian, who was drawing a rather substantial wage to not play very well.

 

When Fazackerley was done, Kyle resumed his space – and watched Ashby closely. The youngster was solid but not spectacular – not the kind of performance that would give Rothwell any reason to be concerned.

 

Sukar came off just after the hour after a rather nasty kick to the shin left him bruised and hobbling, and he came off with Mullins in favor of Grandison and Jonathan Meades.

 

The rest was just exercise. It was a win the board wanted more than some of the players, from appearances, but the team had won well and that was what mattered most.

 

Oxford United 3 (Hylton 8, 9; Hoskins 45+1)

Hampton & Richmond 1 (Charlie Moone 51)

H/T: 3-0

A – 4,498, The Kassam Stadium, Oxford

Man of the Match: Josh Harrop, Oxford (MR 9.0)

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Kyle had been very surprised after the match to see Stacy waiting for him in the car park.

 

The crowd had been very sparse by comparison to recent league attendance figures, and he figured she hadn’t been in the ground. He wasn’t exactly looking for her, but he hadn’t seen her, either.

 

“Kyle, there are some things we have to go over,” she said, handing him an envelope. It was from a solicitor and Kyle surmised that there were probably divorce papers inside it.

 

“What would those things be, Stacy?” Kyle asked, knowing he was in plain view of supporters and others and as such dared not say what was really on his mind.

 

“How we split things up,” he said, “and I want you to meet Boyd. You need to. He’s going to be part of things from now on.”

 

“Really,” Kyle said absently, sliding the envelope into an inner pocket of his jacket. “And what on earth makes you think that’s a good idea?”

 

“Well, he’s going to help raise Owen and he’s going to have a role to play with Jenna’s baby as well,” she said. “You need to accept that.”

 

“I don’t need to accept anything a judge doesn’t tell me to accept,” Kyle said. At that moment he wished he could have had someone on his arm to show off to Stacy, purely out of spite. He felt very alone and more than a little bit betrayed, though he couldn’t have answered why he felt either of those emotions.

 

“That’s coming,” Stacy answered, in a sarcastic sweet tone that burned as it hit Kyle’s ears.

 

He was annoyed. That was obvious, and it was what Stacy was after. Waiting for a chance to escape, Kyle had no choice but to bide his time.

 

“If you’ll excuse me,” Kyle said, starting to head to his car, but Stacy blocked his path.

 

“Not so fast,” she said. “I want to schedule a time for us to have dinner, the three of us.”

 

Kyle’s lawyer had told him to be accommodating to Stacy when he could be and this seemed to be one of those times. As he prepared to answer Stacy’s request, they were joined by a third party.

 

“Kyle, Stacy, hello,” Diana said. “Good win today.”

 

“Thank you,” Kyle said as he watched the reaction between the two ladies – spoken and otherwise. “Pardon me, Diana, I’m just scheduling dinner with Stacy and her boyfriend.”

 

At that, Stacy’s eyes flashed with anger. The truth had hit her and had hurt in just the same way, but Diana simply smiled at Mrs. Cain’s discomfort.

 

“It’s not fair that you have to go stag, Kyle,” she said. “I’m free Monday night if you’d like some support.”

 

Stacy was thunderstruck. Kyle merely smiled, and looked at the calendar on his phone. “So happens I’m free Monday night as well,” he said. “Tuesday’s a non-starter with the match the next night, and we’re off to Newport later in the week.”

 

Kyle turned to Diana and smiled. “Lovely offer, thank you, I accept – that is, if Stacy doesn’t mind, of course.”

 

Kyle watched as the two women locked eyes. Stacy evidently hadn’t gotten what she bargained for.

 

“No problem,” she said. “Oxford Kitchen at seven, then? Right.”

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

“You looked like you could use a friend at that moment.”

 

Kyle and Diana walked together to the manager’s car at the stadium park on the Monday night. Ruefully, he smiled.

 

“That was a good call you made,” he said. “I felt like she wanted to gang up on me.”

 

“That’s because she does,” the club marketer responded. She had dressed up for the day, and as you might expect for fine dining, so had Kyle. He wasn’t really much of a suit-and-tie type guy – he was almost purely a tracksuit manager on the touchline and hadn’t learned to tie a necktie until the day he signed his first professional contract – so now he fumbled to provide space between his throat and the front collar of his shirt. His discomfort was obvious.

 

“Your tie is too tight,” she laughed. “You’re going to choke yourself.”

 

Kyle flushed a bright and brilliant shade of red – or was that strangulation? He opened the driver’s door and unlocked the passenger side so she could get in alongside him. He thought about the last time he had had a woman in his car – it had been Allison and it hadn’t ended the way Kyle would have wanted.

 

He fumbled with the tie knot and she smiled at him. “Let me do it,” she said, reaching over to him. He leaned toward her and she released a bit of the pressure around Kyle’s neck.

 

Their eyes met – and then they were kissing, folded comfortably in each others’ arms as the world seemed to stop around them both.

 

After a long moment, they broke and they looked into each others’ eyes.

 

“Oh, boy,” Kyle said, with a heavy sigh.

 

“What?” Her voice was quiet and, in its way, calming.

 

“I wondered if that was going to happen, to be completely honest,” he said. But instead of taking his comments as a patronizing slight, she simply smiled at him.

 

“So did I,” she said. “It’s not like I haven’t been dropping hints for the last month.”

 

”You know what’s been going on with me,” he replied. “And you know the issues that could arise.”

 

“Not if we don’t let them,” she said, reaching out to hold both his hands in hers. “It’s really just that simple. I want you to know this much, Kyle, before we go any farther: you really can trust me. Did you see Stacy’s reaction when I joined your conversation on Saturday?”

 

“Like you had poured bleach into her gin and tonic,” Kyle smiled.

 

“She really did approach me to try to get to you,” Diana said. “She wanted me to try to get you into bed so she could have what she wanted, which was a chance to ruin your career at Oxford and maybe someplace else.”

 

“And I’ve just kissed you,” he said, with another heavy sigh.

 

“After she left you,” she said. “I understand your apprehension, but honestly, Kyle, it’s going to be all right. Really. It’s going to be painful while she tries to drag your name through the mud, but it really is going to be all right.”

 

“There’s so many things I can do to mess this up for both of us,” he protested, but she hushed him with another soft kiss.

 

“Shhhh,” she said. “You are a human being, Kyle Cain, and you have needs. My goal is to become one of those needs. I’m willing to wait, but I want you to know something else. You’re really good at that kissing thing.”

 

At that, Diana blushed, a softer shade of red crossing her cheeks. The shade flattered her blonde hair and Kyle couldn’t help but smile.

 

“There was a time in my life when I’d be trying to take you home,” he said. “When you say she wants to ruin me, it’s not like there’s nothing she couldn’t use that I haven’t already given her. You’d be one of those things, as you know since you evidently crossed her.”

 

“When you and I weren’t friends, I thought that you didn’t scare me, and I was right,” she said. “But I was right for the wrong reason. You aren’t to be crossed in your environment and I learned that. But the reason you don’t scare me is that deep down there is a lovely man that right now, not many people can see. I think I can and I think I can bring it out of you. Now Stacy, on the other hand – she doesn’t scare me at all.”

 

Kyle thought it through. “You know, I believe you,” he said. “I’ve seen you in action and believe me – you scared the living s**t out of me at times.”

 

Now Diana smiled, placing an index finger across Kyle’s lips. “Now, hush,” she said. “That person is on your side now. And if you will only trust me, you’ll find that you don’t have any reason to fear Stacy either.”

 

She leaned in and gave him one last, deep kiss. “Now, start the car,” Diana said as she finally fastened her seat belt. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”

 

# # #

[JayR2003]

He's so screwed...

[tenthreeleader]

Kyle's learning what life on the other side is like. It's not pleasant.

___

They held hands all the way to the restaurant and arrived five minutes before the reservation, which Kyle had placed under his name.

 

That entitled them to a nice corner table, since Oxford United was one of the two toasts of the town at that moment, and also one that was out of the way, which was vital for the conversation they were about to have.

 

They walked inside together and found Stacy and Boyd Stokes waiting for them. Stacy was seated and Boyd stood over her like a protective mother hen, or he would have been had he been of that gender.

 

She stood wordlessly and the two men cast eyes upon each other for the first time. Boyd was dressed in his best, in an evident attempt to establish some sort of sartorial superiority over the man whose wife he was taking.

 

As resplendent as Boyd looked, he still gave up two inches in height to Kyle so as the men sized each other up, Stokes had to look uphill.

 

Not that he cared. He extended his hand, and everyone looked at Kyle to see what he would do.

 

Wordlessly, the two men shook hands. There was a long pause – one might have said pregnant if one was interested in hackneyed plays on words – and finally Kyle broke the ice.

 

“Kyle Cain,” he said. “This is Diana Moore.” He stepped aside to allow his friend to make her own introduction.

 

“Mr. Stokes,” she said, extending her hand softly. He took it and Kyle was watching him like a hawk as he did.

 

“Boyd Stokes,” he said, and then, almost as an afterthought: “I really do want this evening to go well.”

 

“We all do,” Kyle said, “so let’s not be daft about it, shall we?” He walked to the maître d’s station and gave his name. The fellow, a younger man who appeared to be about ten years younger than Kyle, caught the vibe and said nothing in reply at first. He looked down at his reservation sheet and finally nodded.

 

“Mr. Cain, right this way,” he said, motioning with his hand toward a corner table. Kyle turned and offered his arm to Diana, who gladly took it.

 

They strode purposefully to the table, nearly outpacing the maître d’, who was a bit surprised at the energy in the party. “Wine list?” he asked, as the group was seated.

 

“Please,” Stacy responded. So, the night was off to a flying start. At least there would be alcohol.

 

“We want to talk with you about Owen and what will happen during the separation,” Boyd began. “We want you to be involved.”

 

“That’s very generous,” Kyle began, “because I am going to be involved. You need to understand that you don’t get to just decide these things on your own.”

 

“Don’t be upset,” Stacy interjected. “We’re trying to be decent here.”

 

“I see that,” he replied, “but don’t try to make it sound like you’re going to make all these decisions and tell me what’s what. That won’t fly and my attorney will make sure it won’t fly.”

 

“You were right about him,” Boyd said, turning to Stacy.

 

Kyle glared at him, and now Diana spoke. “Mind your tongue,” she said smoothly. “You’re baiting him using his own son and that’s awful.”

 

“Thanks for your opinion, but it’s not really relevant,” Stokes snapped. “I’m not even sure why you’re here.”

 

“I’m here because Kyle wants me here,” Diana replied, locking eyes with Stokes. “And that’s all you need to know.” She didn’t scare easily, that was for certain.

 

“Can we get back to the reason we’re here?” Stacy asked. “We want to talk with you about a schedule for Owen.”

 

“Fine,” Kyle replied. “You know very well that I can’t take him on every other weekend because we travel but on weekends we’re at home that would be a nice start.”

 

“We’d like a regular schedule,” Stokes said quietly. “Every other weekend would work better for us.”

 

“It won’t work for me,” Kyle answered, “because the fixture list doesn’t work out like that. And still, it’s only four days a month in any event, and most months it would be even less.”

 

At that moment the waiter arrived to take their order. Kyle resigned himself to an evening of argument, and ordered the oak smoked beef fillet, sighing quietly to himself.

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

10 November 2015 – Oxford United v MK Dons

JPT South Quarterfinal – Kassam Stadium, Oxford

Referee: Fred Graham

 

He really hadn’t had much leverage at the restaurant and he knew it. Stacy was away, that was for the best, and she had Owen. The rest would be up to the lawyers.

 

The meeting had put him in a vile mood the next day, even if Diana had been wonderful from the beginning. His only worry was how he was going to explain a workplace relationship to Eales.

 

The answer had been simple. “Let me do it,” she had urged him, and Kyle simply went back to managing his team.

 

Their conversation had been very matter-of-fact. “Kyle and I are seeing each other – very quietly,” she had said after the next day’s staff meeting.

 

The chairman’s eyebrows seemed ready to climb up his forehead and hide in his hair, but he kept his composure. He smiled, offered congratulations and then ventured a question.

 

“What am I supposed to do with that huge human resources file I have on you two?” he asked.

 

Diana laughed. “If it’s legal, Mr. Chairman, I’d like for you to burn it,” she said. She was only half-serious, but Eales took the joke in the right spirit.

 

“I can’t really do that, but I can hide it if you’d like,” he smiled, and Diana giggled in reply.

The visit of the League One Dons, though, was no laughing matter. They were fourth in their league and this matchup promised to be a real test for Kyle’s players. Or rather, those of them who he allowed to play.

 

The Johnstone’s Paint Trophy was one the board didn’t take terribly seriously and as a result Eales’ ‘good luck’ wish before the match was more or less exactly that. Kyle had wanted Max Crocombe to play in this match in the worst way but he was called up for New Zealand – just like he had been the last time Oxford played in the JPT – so he was unavailable.

 

That meant Clarke in goal and another shot for Mullins at right full back, now playing two senior matches in a week just after spending the entire season with the u-21s. Ashby wasn’t ready for a second start so soon after his latest injury so Kyle had to risk Rothwell in the middle, playing ahead of Danny Rose. Roberts got a start up front and Meades played left full back while Tom Richards, usually Skarz’s deputy at that position, moved up to spell O’Dowda on the left side of midfield.

 

Kyle’s Midas touch hadn’t deserted him, as the youngster, Roberts, had the ball in the Dons goal less than ten minutes into the match. Mullins, who continued to play well in his relief role, intercepted a cross-field clearing attempt and headed straight down the right flank, crossing early for the run of Roberts. The youngster ghosted into space and found space for his header between David Martin and his near post.

 

That was about as good a start as Kyle could have hoped for and the young Us settled in to try to hold the lead against their higher league opposition. They were doing fairly well until referee Fred Graham pointed to the spot after Tom Flanagan went down under, shall we say, minimal contact from Dunkley in the Oxford penalty area.

 

Diddy cup or not, that got Kyle off the bench and onto the fourth official’s case in no time flat as Carl Baker sent Clarke the wrong way from the penalty spot to get the match level in 29 minutes. Energized, the League One visitors poured forward after that and got a second goal from veteran Dean Bowditch five minutes later.

 

The striker who was playing for his seventh club at only 29 years of age, made a terrific direct run that made a goal possible when Wright moved up to play Ben Reeves, who had beaten Rose for pace and thus put the defense under pressure. Reeves’ pass found Bowditch in space and Clarke had little chance.

 

The teams made it to half with Oxford trailing 2-1 and Kyle had some words for his men. “We’ll give them one of those goals, the referee certainly did,” he said, “but we have got to get better at tracking runs or they’re going to run us out of the stadium.” Oxford might have put a young team out there but the central defenders – Wright and Dunkley – were the first-choice team and should have known better.

 

Oxford looked brighter in the second half but were finding life a bit more difficult against the kind of opposition they could expect to face if everything went as planned. They had more possession but found getting into good shooting positions was quite difficult. That was by Jim Magilton’s design, of course, so the Flying Circus would have to find another way through.

 

Chances did come, though, with Roberts and substitute Skarz both coming close before the match ticked over into desperation time for Oxford. With the team piling forward looking for a second goal, Clarke made a magnificent save on Bowditch from a Dons counterattack, diving full-length to his left to get a strong hand on the striker’s low drive toward the left corner. The excellent Tom Flanagan found his place in the box for the ensuing corner and made hard contact with Harrop as the ball floated in.

 

And then there was Graham pointing to the spot again, with Harrop standing hands behind head in disbelief. Baker grabbed the ball out of the arms of the protesting Clarke, nearly starting a melee in the process, while Wright looked for answers from the referee and Kyle blistered the fourth official at the same time.

 

Baker scored again, putting Dons ahead 3-1 and you could almost see the steam coming out of Harrop’s ears. He was so angry, in fact, that he scored four minutes later, off another square ball from Mullins, who had really found his form. His shot from the right wing found the lower right corner of Martin’s goal, giving the home team hope with six minutes of normal time remaining.

 

But from that point, the League One side simply closed off the spigot, putting men behind the ball and daring Oxford to find a way through. When they couldn’t, United was out of the Cup – though not without some regret.

 

Oxford United 2 (Roberts 8, Harrop 84)
MK Dons 3 (Carl Baker pen 29, pen 80; Dean Bowditch 34)

H/T: 1-2

A – 3,561, The Kassam Stadium, Oxford

Man of the Match: Tom Flanagan, MK Dons (MR 9.0)
 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

“A bit surprised how easily some of these League One players go down in the penalty area,” Kyle fumed as he walked down the hallway toward his media appearance. He wasn’t going to accuse Dons players of diving if anyone could hear him publicly, but he was fuming.

 

What he did say was this: “I’m disappointed in the penalties. I think you should expect me to say that. We felt both were soft but the calls were given and the referee has given them two penalties in a game where they score three goals.”

 

Churchill, ever a man to find controversy when it wasn’t there in the past, now saw a chance for some real controversy right before his very eyes. It was like ringing a bell before Pavlov’s dog.

 

“Did he cost you the match?” Nothing like a direct question.

 

“He didn’t help,” Kyle said, “and that’s as far as I’m going. It’s not his job to help anyone.”

 

“You have had to be pleased with Mullins this week.”

 

“He’s done well,” Kyle admitted. “I’m not going to stand here and say he hasn’t. He’s made the most of the chances in the Cup competitions and I need to keep that in mind. We’ve got some very good players ahead of him in the depth charts though, so I have to keep that in mind too.”

 

“Your thoughts on Andy Awford leaving Portsmouth for Rotherham and Micky Mellon going to Hibs?”

 

Kyle hadn’t heard of either of those moves, which had in fact been announced while Oxford was on the pitch. Mellon, of course, managed Shrewsbury Town, the team that had defeated Kyle’s in the playoff final the year before, and now he was headed to Scotland’s capital city and a job in the Scottish Premiership.

 

Awford was something different, though. He had done a tremendous job walking Portsmouth to the League Two outright championship the year before, and was off to Rotherham and a job in the Championship trying to right the slow-starting Millers. He had Pompey playing well in League One as well, in eleventh place and only two points off the playoff places.

 

“I don’t think I have a lot to say about either,” Kyle admitted, “I’ve only just heard of these things. Both of them have done great jobs at their clubs and I surely can’t say anything bad about Micky Mellon, he beat us at Wembley last season. Managers deserve a chance to move up when they do well and clearly they both have so fair play to them.”

 

With that, he headed back to his office and slumped heavily into his chair. He didn’t like losing, even in a diddy cup, and that was that. The coaches were waiting for him and the group had a post-match post-mortem.

 

The general view was that the ‘bastard in the black’ had cost Oxford the match, and there was just enough truth in that to make the view both popular and dangerous. It was Kyle who brought everyone back down to earth.

 

“We have to go to Newport on Saturday and figure out how to get these players back up for another match,” he reminded them. “Sulking won’t do that. We can have them learn from this but we have to do it the right way. Be positive about it but remind these players what can happen when they don’t mind their responsibilities.”

 

He spoke again. “Yeah, they went down in the box easier than a ….” His voice trailed off, not wanting to be overheard by anyone, especially since the second half of the phrase involved the world’s oldest profession, “…but we can’t put ourselves in that position. We can’t be placed in a situation where we let an official make a bloody call. It’s bad for us.”

 

He got general nods of agreement. “Now, let’s go off home and come back ready to work in the morning because we’ve got a ton of it to do.”

 

His coaches left, and Kyle noticed the message light on his phone flashing. He didn’t usually get many calls during a match so he checked his message.

 

“Kyle, this is Iain McInnes, board chair at Portsmouth,” he heard a voice say. “We would like to interview you for our managerial vacancy. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.”

 

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Spoiler

In the first place, Portsmouth needed permission from Oxford United to talk to Kyle at all, since he was of course under contract. So his first order of business the next day was to report the contact to the front office.

 

That brought Eales down from his office for a private meeting before training began. He wasn’t in a jovial mood.

 

“Yes, we allowed the approach because that’s customary but what we need now is to know where you stand,” he said. “Have you given them a CV?”

 

“No, and I don’t intend to,” Kyle said, and that changed Eales’ expression completely.

 

“You don’t?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Kyle smiled. “Would you care to know why?”

 

“I guess I’d be curious to know, now,” he said.

 

“Because I looked at my players at Wembley after we lost the playoff final and I saw the looks they all had in their eyes,” he said. “I had the same thoughts they did. I felt angry, I felt like I hadn’t done enough. I don’t think my work here is done, Mr. Eales. I want to see this team promoted, and I think that might happen if I weren’t here but I’d like to see it happen with me in the dugout. Unless you don’t think I deserve that chance.”

 

Eales looked at Kyle. “I came down here thinking I would have to fight to keep you,” he said. “Everyone wants to take that step up the leagues and I’m glad you share that goal. Of course you deserve that chance to get there and you know we are very happy with the job you are doing.”

 

Eales rose to leave and Kyle opened his office door to let the chairman get back to his day. “I have no interest in going to Portsmouth,” he repeated. As he said these words, Diana passed down the hall on the way to her office. She knew all about the approach too – Kyle had told her – but she hadn’t heard his answer.

 

As Eales left, Diana turned to Kyle and winked at him. Then she disappeared into her office while Kyle headed out to run training.

 

# # #

 

[tenthreeleader]

14 November – Newport County (4-5-7, 18^th place) v Oxford United (12-1-3, 1^st place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #17 – Rodney Parade, Newport

Referee: Andy D’Urso

 It had been a bit of an eventful week. After cozying up to Diana for the first time, Kyle had celebrated the momentous occasion by getting his club knocked out of the JPT. That didn’t fit very well with his other happiness, so he determined to do something about the latter situation.

 More than a bit embarrassed by the way that Dons match had ended, Kyle piled his men onto the coach for the trip to South Wales looking for a better performance.

 Right on the north bank of the River Usk in beautiful downtown Newport, Rodney Parade is the second oldest venue in the Football League, just behind Deepdale, the home to Preston North End.

 Of course, to get to Newport you have to cross the River Severn first, and the M4 does that nicely, so Kyle had a nice view on a surprisingly nice travel day as the coach rolled westward. The trip took just under two hours and the team had the afternoon to stretch legs and do a walkthrough on the ground before heading to dinner.

 After the recent dinner with Stacy and Boyd Stokes, Kyle hadn’t heard a thing from his estranged wife and frankly he was amazed that no press had managed to pick up on what was going on. To be fair to Stacy, it wasn’t like she wanted the story to get out – it might damage her chances to keep custody of Owen. Kyle didn’t want the story to get out for the same reason, as well as for the hideous embarrassment a public person like he now was would have to face once the revelations were made.

 So there was an uneasy truce between the two camps. Diana, for her part, was nearly as unhappy as Kyle was – as angry as she had been at him the year before, she had now gone to the other extreme in his support.

 There hadn’t been a repeat of the incident in Kyle’s car – though it was obvious the two had feelings for each other now, even Kyle wasn’t that stupid – but the two now seemed to work as a team and that was important.

 Kyle gave Diana the team list the day before the match secure in the knowledge that it wouldn’t show up on social media before it was supposed to, as had happened last year.

 They were even texting regularly and as a result Kyle felt much more secure in an area of his job that he really needed to feel secure – that of his authority over football matters in relation to the front office.

 Also, Vic Young had found out about Portsmouth’s approach for Kyle’s services so as the team prepared for the match at Rodney Parade, there was a mini-controversy surrounding the manager.

 His part was easy – he simply told the truth, that Eales had allowed an approach out of courtesy and that he had turned it down because he had goals he wanted to reach at Oxford United. It was that simple, at least to him.

 But newspapers need to get sold somehow, so the tale Young told of a conflicted manager with the chance to go to a higher league was one that fans needed to take seriously.

 It wasn’t exactly the truth – in fact, it wasn’t terribly close – but the squad reacted in a negative manner. They didn’t show anger with the boss but they looked terribly lethargic against County. For a side that had won only four of sixteen matches to date, the home side looked far the more lively of the two teams in the first half.

 For large swaths of the first half, Oxford looked like they were playing in cement boots. Not every team is going to have a great day each time out, but there was no doubt that United was clearly off its stroke.

 Even Kyle was distracted – Young’s article had seen to that. As the second half began, he thought back to what she had written:

 

“

Quote

 

Why wouldn’t Kyle Cain be susceptible to having his head turned?

 

The U’s boss has quickly established his reputation as a gifted offensive tactician and the chief recipient of his expertise in this area has been Patrick Hoban, who is off to the best start of his career. But with Portsmouth’s approach this week to poach Oxford’s manager, it is more than understandable if Hoban should ask questions – among others.

 

For his part, Cain has never expressed a desire to leave Oxford – the manager views this posting as his chance at redemption after the disaster to his reputation that was Torquay United.

 

But Portsmouth’s approach – and Daryl Eales allowing it – should bring about legitimate questions not only from this reporter, who promises to ask them, but also from fans.

 

Too, it should be noted that the manager is going through a divorce which may well become very public and unusually messy, and as such a change of scenery might benefit him personally as well.”

 

Her words were on Kyle’s mind – sometimes at the front, sometimes at the back – as his team struggled to a goalless draw that was as boring as you might expect.

Newport County 0
Oxford United 0
H/T: 0-0
A – 2,683, Rodney Parade, Newport
Man of the Match: Jermaine Grandison, Oxford (MR 8.1)

 # # #

[tenthreeleader]

“So it’s down to goal difference now.”

 

This was Vic Young, now fully on the front of Kyle’s mind, as she had made the trip to Rodney Parade for the match.

 

“I believe that is true, yes,” Kyle answered. League Two was now a flat-footed tie between Oxford and Stevenage, with the Us overwhelming goal difference virtually guaranteeing the tie-breaker.

 

Borough’s stingy defense meant they had conceded only eight times in seventeen league matches, while United led all of the Football League with a stupendous 45 goals from the same seventeen matches.

 

But none today. “What on Earth happened to you today?” she asked.

 

“Well, let’s give Newport a bit of credit, they shut us down and they hit us in the middle of the park, where not many teams at this level can. Our midfield has been excellent this season but today they were taken out of their game by a solid, well constructed plan.”

 

“What did they do?”

 

“They took away time and space and they stacked the center of the park to stop our distributors of the ball from doing what we want them to do in our scheme,” Kyle said. “They pressed us very effectively and forced us into situations where we couldn’t always do what we wanted to do with the ball.”

 

“Could you be any less specific?”

 

“Yes, if you like,” Kyle said, not best pleased with either the reporter or her line of questioning. “I could go back to my players.”

 

“Steady on, Kyle,” Vic said with a slight smile. “I’m not your enemy.”

 

“When you ask questions about my job that are based in fantasy and they get printed, you sure aren’t my friend,” he responded, in an exceptionally rare public rebuke of a reporter that he knew would generate at least local headlines the next day. “But honestly, it’s a goalless draw away. There are surely worse results.”

 

And he was right about the headline. The next day’s Mail carried a back page headline that read “Cain Lashes Out”.

 

He expected it and got it. It was a way to take some criticism off his players after what was surely a dismal result especially in light of other recent matches – but it was a point away and that was all that mattered to Kyle.

 

The big news of the day was Chris Wilder leaving Northampton to take the Portsmouth job, stepping up a league in the process. The first thing he did was put James Maddison on the loan wire, which made Kyle slap his forehead in disgust.

 

He had tried to bring Maddison back for a second season at United but had been rebuffed by Coventry at the time due to the ever-popular “first team commitments”. But then the Sky Blues had sold him southward, for a hefty fee – and he had hardly featured since.

 

The fans were upset over the lack of playing time for the big-money man, and when Wilder took the Pompey job, the first thing he wanted to do was get the young man some playing time. But with Rothwell owning the central midfield position for Oxford and playing it at least as well as Maddison had the season before, there was no need to bring him aboard.

 

That was unfortunate. Maddison had enjoyed his stay and the fans had surely loved having him. Sometimes football can be a bit cruel and this was one of those times – as Maddison didn’t figure to be lacking for suitors. He could have been lining up against his old club in a matter of days.

 

But Kyle had other things on his mind, not least of which was a tricky home tie against sixth-placed Walsall at the weekend.

 

The visitors liked to play the body, as the Yanks would say, and as such Kyle’s game plan was deliberate. Draw them in, dance around them, beat them for pace and then beat their team. He hoped that being at home would help with the ticky-tack fouls that so often seem to clutter up a physical matchup and get most of those calls going the home team’s way.

 

Oxford’s unbeaten string in all competitions had reached nine but that mattered for not very much if they couldn’t do the business at home and Stevenage, as they were favored to do, beat Torquay at home.

 

There was a lot going on. Not all of it was bad, but bad was where everything always seemed to wind up.

 

# # #