Late to the Game

[tenthreeleader]

Late to the Game

Sage Morison figured that making up for lost time could be easy, or it could be hard. Impossibly hard.

But then, life itself could be easy or hard. His hometown of Gorelston-on-Sea was living proof.

Some folks said the name was a derivative of “Girls Town” and appears as Gorlestuna in William the Conqueror’s “Domesday Book” of 1086. It was a fishing town in medieval times, but once the supply of herring dried up, so did that industry.

Since Edwardian times, Gorelston had been a tourist town. The people there had adapted over time. Sage wouldn't have dreamed of being the exception to the rule.

He was a Norfolk lad, born and bred. He grew up supporting Norwich City, which is a bit like saying you grew up supporting Peter Pettigrew from the point of view of your heartstrings, but had played his entire career with Peterborough.

It had been a good career, ended due to arthritis in an ankle broken against Northampton Town in a League Cup game in 2011. At age 36, with fifteen years in the Peterborough colors now over, he had to decide what to do with his life. He couldn’t even play in his own testimonial, which to him was highly annoying.

He was bitter. He knew that feeling was selfish, but he indulged that selfishness for nine long years. It led to the creation of a vacuum in his life that wasn’t entirely self-destructive but as the young folk would say, he wasn’t living his best life, either.

In the end, he had to admit this much to himself: Sage was looking for a reason to fall in love with the game again. Its absence in his life had proven too great.

Having started his badges while an active player, he had let them lie dormant as a reward for all his hard work. His first step was to restart his work. His second was to try to find a club that would have him.

He wanted to coach. He wanted to try to bring along young players and above all he wanted to find a group of people be could motivate.

But he was 45 years old, long in the tooth to get into the business. He didn’t have a lot of time to make the mark he wanted to make.

Once the job finally came, it wasn’t in England. Lisburn Distillery started Sage Morison’s journey back into the sport he loved – but he was late to the game.

Author’s notes: FM20, major European nations loaded. Norn Iron, here we come.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

For Sage, Distillery was the perfect starter club. Part-timers who had fallen from grace in the Northern Irish game some years past, they still took almost unreasonable pride in their accomplishments.

They had a European pedigree, albeit one that was basically fifty years old.

They had once played Benfica, in the preliminaries of the 1962 European Cup, and had somehow managed a 3-3 draw in the home leg. Away, though, was a different story and the tie was lost 8-3 on aggregate.

Seven years later, they faced Barcelona in the first round of the 1971 Cup-Winners Cup. They got an idea of how the Hindenburg’s passengers must have felt in a 7-1 aggregate loss in a competition that was eventually won by Rangers.

But since then, it had been dry, dry, dry, which is always bad for a Distillery. They were relegated out of the top flight in 2013 and had never come close to getting back.

They had won the Irish Cup twelve times, but not since 1971, which put them into the tie against Barcelona. They had won the Irish premier league six times, but not since 1962.

They were fourteen times winners of the County Antrim Shield, with a 97-year span from the first victory in 1888 to the most recent, in 1985.

They were proud, but they were dormant. There were longtimers in the area who wanted to see that change – but unfortunately, they didn’t have money, so the part-time club that had once graced the heights of the Northern Irish game was now much closer to a bottom-feeder. And that stuck in every Distillery fan’s craw.

That said, there evidently weren’t many of them. That first season, the team averaged a turnout of about 150 fans per game. The club was hemorrhaging money even paying part-time salaries. Sage had been careful with his money as a player and so wasn’t in need of a huge salary, but he had to be talked out of donating his salary back to the club by its chairman as a matter of club pride.

In exchange for that expression of pride, Sage gave Distillery everything he had. He didn’t believe in a lot of swanning about at this level, so most of the time he kept it simple – 4-4-2 with attack-minded wingers, well-conditioned players and a requirement of every player to be willing to pressure the ball wherever it was found.

It wasn’t long before Sage and his team figured out who wanted to play and who didn’t in their league, the Bluefin Sport Premier Intermediate, which to Sage was simply a fancy way of saying “third tier”.

“We won’t be outworked by anyone,” Sage promised his players in their first team meeting. “None of us want to be in this league and I see no reason why after this season is over, any of us should be.”

As such, Sage’s team swept seven friendlies and won its first three competitive games before falling 1-0 to Coleraine in the Bet McLean Cup second round.

Thus inspired, it was a calendar month before they lost again, winning five and drawing one before losing 2-1 at home to Newington in the club’s first league loss in five starts.

In the meantime, there were cup runs to consider. The County Antrim Shield, not won by a Distillery team for 35 years, had been identified as a priority target by the club’s board.

Knockbreda and Newington were the club’s first two victims in that competition, falling to some inspired play by Sage’s men. That put them into the semi-final, where they fell 3-1 to Premier League opposition Larne in a game at Windsor Park that drew about fifteen times the usual attendance for a Distillery game.

The board appreciated the cut from gate even if they hadn’t appreciated the result, and it was then on to bigger things.

The Steel and Sons Cup was next, and Sage’s men fared better. Dunloy and Ballymena Reserves fell easily to Distillery, and they had dismissed Ballymoney United 3-0 in the match before falling to Larne.

By now cruising in the league, Sage could devote other resources to the cups. Even though the board had not identified Steel and Sons as important, Sage had because he wanted his players to get used to the idea of striving for something every time they took the pitch.

As November arrived, Police Service of Northern Ireland, or PSNI, stood both a league up on Distillery and squarely athwart their road to the final. But in perhaps their best game of the season, Sage’s men stood tall in a 2-1 win that allowed the club to reach a cup final for the first time in God only knew how long.

With Banbridge now providing the only serious opposition to a league title walkover, Distillery received a gut punch by going out of the Irish Cup in the fourth round on penalties to league rival Bangor on 7^th December. That led to the first serious friction between Sage and the board – they had let him know that an exit at that stage was unacceptable even for part-timers – and the players, who already liked and admired their manager, were determined to bail him out.

On Christmas Day, Distillery overwhelmed non-league Coagh United 5-2 to win the Steel and Sons Cup for the first time in 108 years. Yes, it was a diddy cup, but it was silverware and the feeling of winning it was the same as for any other -- for the time being.

But by then the team’s lead in the league, which had been as high as ten points, began to melt as the trials of a long season started to take their toll on part-time players. A 3-1 crash at Banbridge in late February reduced the lead to two points, which made Distillery’s exit from the Intermediate Cup a welcome occurrence.

In the six weeks from the middle of January to the end of February, Distillery managed just one point in the league. Banbridge was coming on strong and when the league took a break in early March, Sage scheduled two friendlies which he hoped would build confidence.

Abbey Villa and Derry City provided no serious opposition, and a tidy 1-0 over Arragh at New Grosvenor Park meant the team needed only a draw at Tobermore United on the last day to wrap up the title.

In the finest interests of doing just enough to get the job done, that’s exactly what Distillery did, in a 1-1 draw that enabled them to finish 12-4-4 in the league, two points clear of Banbridge – and up to the second tier.

# # #

[mark wilson27]

Sir its good to have you back writing on the forums...as with all your stories I will be following

[tenthreeleader]

Thank you, Mark ... I need to earn my way back.

___

There had been bumps in the road in that first season. Most of them were due to the vagaries of life in the part-time football world.

The transfer window essentially lasts for the entire season in Northern Ireland. So even as Sage appreciated the beauty of County Down, he wished more of his players would be willing to do the same. Roster poaching was constant and to make matters worse, Sage lost not one but two captains during that first season.

First, midfielder Gary Workman left for Dergview in August with the team already topping the table and playing well.

Then his replacement, midfielder James Wright, upped stakes for Dundela. This was in late March, with two matches to go in the season and the team clinging to the smallest of margins at the top of the table. While understandable, this wasn’t a slight Sage was willing to accept lying down.

“You know, if you needed an extra tenner a week to play, I could understand that,” Sage told his team after Wright left. “But at least have the decency to help your teammates win the league first.”

However, Sage himself wasn’t immune to the idea of either signing or poaching players. His best acquisitions, though, were all free transfers.

20-year old striker Alex McIlmail had been found without a team and contributed nine goals after a mid-season signing. 21-year old wing Rhys Ferris always played bigger than his small stature, and could play either side of the midfield.

Left fullback Jude Ballard filled a glaring need. Not the best crosser of the ball in the world, he was, however, a lockdown defensive player for this level and as such, Ferris had more freedom to get forward when he played that side. He wound up with six goals and assisted on seven others. Not bad for a player nobody else wanted.

Holdover Nick Beta led the team with 16 goals – but 11 were scored in cup competitions as he was a holy terror outside of the league. Loan siging Leighton Jameson helped solidify the back line with help from free transfer Joe Reid.

Where Sage had trouble, and by that he meant regular trouble, was in the coaching staff. Finding enough coaches to make sure players developed in part-time training was not difficult. However, getting permission from the board to actually pay them, well, that was something else.

There was actual friction on that account. There was also discord over the board’s two failures to find a parent club for Distillery and its blanket refusal to let any staff members study for additional badges or certifications on the club’s money.

It was fairly apparent to Sage that even his part-time staff and players possessed more ambition than its board did. He could have settled down into a bunker mentality and started an “us against the world” mindset, but players came and went far too often to make such an idea a good one.

So instead, Sage became a “relationship” manager. He motivated. He praised. He disciplined when it was warranted and once the club had success, his players bought in.

That was one reason some of them stayed. Regularly, players would be approached by other clubs and as long as they weren’t a captain, they usually stayed, expressing their admiration for their boss.

So when it came time to yell, as Sage occasionally did, they listened. They didn’t take it personally. And they stayed the course, punching well above their weight.

So as the 2020-21 season began, Sage Morison found himself facing a real challenge: keeping the part-timers in the second tier on two training nights a week.

If this didn’t make him hate the beautiful game, nothing would.

# # #

[mark wilson27]

Trust me when I say sir,you never need to earn your way back.Your in the Hall of Fame for a reason, in fact your the last person to have been inducted in I believe 

[tenthreeleader]

You are a good man, Mark Wilson

___

 

There was a lot to think about. The 20-match season from the Intermediate League would metastasize into 32 the following year. There were still four cups to contend, two of which carried board expectations.

There was no money for players – everyone had to be on a free and no full-time contracts – even Sage’s -- were allowed.

The club, and it seemed far from alone in this, seemed to be hanging on the knife’s edge. Still, though, ambition is ambition and Sage took it as a challenge to bring in players to the club that could help without costing money.

During the friendly season, Sage tried to build a spine around which the club could try to survive the longer fixture list against stronger opposition.

First in was central midfielder Ryan Berry, on a free from PSNI. He had impressed Sage in the cup meeting between the clubs the season before, and could do a number of key things well even at age 32. He was a good passer of the ball, could man-mark, knew where to be when the time was right and could crack off a shot from distance like few in the league. Sage was frankly surprised to get him.

Second up was to extend the loan of Leighton Jameson for a second season from Glenavon. The 19-year old was only starting to mature into his 6’1”, 175-pound frame and showed some promise that Sage was confident he could get out of him.

The third signing held a bit of intrigue. 20-year old Ryan Waide came in as a free agent. He could play midfield and he could play different styles up front. Sage had inherited a strike force the season before consisting solely of poacher-type players, which limited his options in the final third as his strikers had to learn new ways to play off each other. Waide would bring variety.

The last was big central defender Daniel White, in from Knockbreda on a free. Brought in as a classic cover defender, White was a lunch-bucket type of player who had the strength, leaping ability and marking prowess to stand in front of the goal and make opposing strikers pay for coming too close.

The friendlies didn’t really do much to show the quality of the additions, since chairman Jim Greer had made some business arrangements to bring in sacrificial lambs for the friendly schedule.

The lone exception to this was Scottish League Two side Stenhousemuir, who Distillery fought to a 1-1 standoff at New Grosvenor Park in the first friendly. The others – Crumlin United, Newtowne, Dunloy and Killymoon – fell by an aggregate score of 23-1, and it probably would have been worse had all four matches not been played away.

Sage’s team would have to wait until the season proper began before finding out if the new boys were enough to make survival a possibility.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

8 August 2020
PSNI v Distillery – Bluefin Sport Championship Round 1

Sage sat on the bench, thunderstruck. Was this really what life in the second tier was going to be like?

Alex McIlmail was striding toward the corner flag, fists pumping, celebrating a goal in the first minute of second half added time. The fact that there were less than a dozen people there to greet him, and nine of them were his teammates, literally gave silent testimony as to the size of the crowd.

But it was the team’s fourth goal of the contest, while playing its opening match.

That was what Sage was struggling to understand. In a good way, mind you, but struggling nonetheless.

The new captain, Aaron Harris, had rightly been the first one to open his account, in fifteen minutes. Johnny McCaw had thundered home from twenty yards six minutes later, only to see striker David McMaster equalize with a nine-minute brace later in the half. With five minutes to play in the half it was already 2-2 and Distillery had already shown themselves to be more than makeweights.

Despite the two quick goals conceded, Sage was pleased at half, and his team took the positive attitude out for the second session. In 66 minutes, there was the former PSNI man Ryan Berry celebrating a goal against his old mates, and his teammates made it hold up until added time.

That was when McIlmail broke through after a terrific weighted pass from Harris, slotting past a stranded Jonny Parr in the PSNI goal for a 4-2 lead.

“Honestly, I hadn’t expected this,” Sage said to his right-hand man, watching his team celebrate.

Barry had laid on assists for both the first two goals and scored one himself. Harris had returned the favor on the new man’s tally. The central midfield partnership sure looked like it was hitting in mid-season form.

“They can’t be this dangerous already,” Brian McCabe replied, sharing some of the manager’s reaction, but with a bigger smile on his face.

“Ball don’t lie,” Sage smiled, using the American phrase which sounded sufficiently foreign coming out of his mouth.

McCabe shot Sage a sidewise glance which indicated the manager might just be a little bit out of his mind, but it was all in good fun. The team had performed brilliantly in their first match a league up.

And while they were talking about just how good they had been, Harris repeated his feat, finding McIlmail over the top in the last minute of stoppage time for the striker to volley home, capping a convincing win.

Distillery 5-2 PSNI
(Harris 15, McCaw 21, Berry 66, McIlmail 90+1, 90+5)

“Before we kicked off, I had half expected to roast you lot right now,” Sage smiled as the team sat in the changing room following its cool-down run.

“The fact that I’m not means you did very well indeed,” he continued, and he knew what reaction he’d get.

He got along well with them. None of them were on full-time contracts and so that called for a different manner of handling players. Sage was already finding out that he was very good at it.

There were lots of happy smiles and laughs. That was the reaction he wanted.

There was just no sense in handling these lads roughly, Sage had reasoned. Everyone in that room was there because they wanted to be, and the money was obviously secondary. He had succeeded in bringing in veteran players and young alike because word had already gotten out they’d be treated like men. That counted for something.

As the players boarded the coach for home, Sage nodded with satisfaction and as he took his customary place in the front seat opposite the driver, he just let the moment flow over him.

It wouldn’t always be like this. Everyone knew that. But as of that moment, Distillery was top of the table and though it surely wouldn’t last, this was a moment to savor.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

After the first time Sage spoke with the woman running training for the Northern Ireland u-21 ladies’ team, he went and ran five miles on his treadmill.

She made him feel fat by comparison. He was embarrassed.

To suggest that Kylie Flanagan was the source of more than one man taking exercise more seriously after they had met her would have been an understatement. The former Arsenal ladies’ star had taken excellent care of herself and as the led training at New Grosvenor Park prior to a match there, it seemed obvious to everyone.

It was a glorious late mid-August afternoon and with the team playing away at Ballinamallard United, the home ground was open that weekend. The scheduled matches against Wales u-21s wound up at the Whites’ home due to a rather astonishing set of circumstances at the grounds of bigger clubs in and around Belfast.

Still, the Whites had a wonderful little ground and it didn’t seem to bother anyone that it would host an international match, least of all the young Irish ladies working hard on the pitch under the watchful eye of their coach.

Sage watched the training closely – not because he was eyeing up the raven-haired boss, but because she was having her players perform their drills at an unusually high pace and Sage wanted to see how they would handle it.

She wasn’t sparing the rod, Sage knew – and the women held up very well.

Finally, Flanagan blew her whistle sharply three times while walking toward the center circle and everyone knew what that meant.

They gathered around their coach in a school circle and she gave them her evaluation of their day’s training.

“You’re getting there,” she said. “I saw more from you, and better from you, than I’ve seen in some time. Shower off and head to the coach – we leave for the hotel in half an hour.”

With that, she walked toward Sage and they shook hands.

“A pleasure,” Sage said, meaning it sincerely. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“Gallantry precedes you,” she replied in a teasing tone. “How did you like our training?”

“You do things at a pace I wish my lads could do,” Sage answered. “I have a hard time thinking you’ll be anything but successful when Wales come here.”

“You’d be surprised,” she said, with a rueful smile. “They’re still kids, after all. They do the most extraordinary things sometimes and it’s hard to drill those things out of them.”

“The manager’s eternal problem,” Sage agreed. “Let me tell you, that doesn’t change with the age of the player.”

They chatted for a few more minutes until she had to leave to do the other things required of coaches – namely, ride herd on the players until they were all sat on the coach in the required time frame.

McCabe approached and gave Sage the same evaluation of the training that he had already formed in his own mind.

“We can learn from those people,” Sage said. “If they play like they train, they’ve some creative ideas we would be wise to learn from.”

And with that, Sage hit his treadmill.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

The quality of Northern Irish Championship life varied depending on which member club you followed.

There were part-timers, like Distillery. There were full-timers, like Ards, expected by all and sundry to bounce straight back up to the Premier league at the first time of asking following a horrific 2019-20 campaign.

As such, virtually nothing was expected from Sage and his men as the season began, and that was just the way they liked it.

They didn’t have the greatest talent in their league, never mind anywhere else, and they were sharply limited in their skills save for their abilities in Sage’s preferred tactic.

He had kept it simple – 4-4-2, overlap, press high and God help you if you didn’t work hard – and the team had responded well against the lowest level of league opposition.

The problem was that the players the club could afford to sign weren’t those who necessarily were good at a number of different things. Sage recruited for three or for top traits at the most because he knew that was all he was likely to get.

But when you knitted them all together, you got a quilt. Sometimes it was even a warm one. Over time, the players became proficient at different team skill sets within the alignment and that helped, but rare was the moment when you saw Distillery in anything other than their preferred alignment. So, the quilt had to be built to last. It was either that, or earn a trip right back to the third tier.

That led to accusations of a lack of tactical nous on Sage’s part and he took those barbs with gritted teeth. But he also had some wrinkles that helped keep his team winning games.

McCaw and fellow winger Richie O’Hanlon were skilled with both feet, but McCaw preferred his left. Sage would occasionally line them both up as inside wingers and then let them swap positions from time to time. It gave unorganized defenders fits.

They trained in 4-2-3-1 and in 4-4-1-1 but Sage never let on that those alignments would be used as often as pigs took wing. The players would figure that out for themselves.

15 August 2020
Distillery v Ballinamallard Utd – Bluefin Sport Championship Round 2

One would probably have expected a basic 4-4-2 to be more stable when playing away from home than some of the more popular alignments in today’s game.

That was Sage’s reasoning, and since it was also the only alignment he trusted his team to play away from home at this early stage of the season, that proved quite convenient.

Ballinamallard was the kind of club last year’s Distillery could have given a decent game but with which this year’s Distillery team was expected to compete.

There were a total of nine away fans in the stand as the match kicked off. That gave Sage a pretty good idea of the locals’ estimation of their chances.

Yet from the beginning, Sage had been pumping the concept of self-belief into his charges. So much of the game of football is played between the ears rather than between the feet, and the man who believes he can is often better to have on the park than the one with more on the field but less upstairs.

So it was a bit surprising to everyone but Sage when the club’s designated Cup-killer, Nick Beta, scored the first goal of the match on the quarter hour. Waide, dropped back to midfield due to a training knock to O’Hanlon, provided for Beta, who finished well – and in fact, outshone his strike partner McIlmail on the day.

They made that lead stick up for the rest of the first half and well into the second – when Waide, restored to the advanced forward role he favored when Ferris came on after seventy minutes, doubled it.

It was as shocking as it was comprehensive, and even a stoppage-time goal by John Currie couldn’t put a damper on the first away win in the Championship for Sage’s men.

Ballinamallard United 1-2 Distillery
(Beta 15, Waide 74)

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

On the ride home, Sage flipped through the news on his phone. He had wondered how the match had gone at New Grosvenor Park – and the home team had slammed six past the Welsh.

He handed his phone to McCabe and smiled. “Ladies did well,” he said. “Better than we did.”

“I should say so,” McCabe answered, returning the device to its owner. “We did that a lot last year.”

Sage smiled. “That was last year,” he replied. “It’s a new year, mind you.”

The coach rolled toward home and Sage decided on a specific course of action. He texted the chairman, Jim Greer, and asked if it would be possible for the club to get in touch with Kylie Flanagan.

“Not me,” Sage texted after Greer replied whether he cared to initiate contact himself. “It can’t be me, for obvious reasons.”

Greer texted back that he appreciated his manager’s foresight and tact, and made the contact himself on behalf of the team.

That put Sage and Kylie in touch, and the two began to text.

“I wouldn’t mind watching your young ladies train again,” Sage said. “You did some things in the session I watched that I would like to view again. They’re transferable to my team.”

Sage was interested in how to train players you don’t see every day. Flanagan appeared to be expert in that, and this had caught Sage’s eye.

Sage only had access to his players for two days of most weeks, with the exception of match days. That had worked out just fine against other part-time opposition but Sage knew the players would have to somehow raise their games – on the same training schedule – to survive against some of the clubs in their new league.

“Well, I don’t have them now until late September,” she responded. “You’re welcome to come then and see training if you like.”

Sage nodded, expecting the answer he had received.

“That makes sense,” he replied. “If you’re in our part of the world again, come and see us. We could talk that way.”

Kylie replied that would be fine with her, and Sage ended the conversation.

“Well done, old man,” McCabe said after Sage relayed the details. “You got your goal accomplished and everyone else on the team gets another look at her.”

With that, Sage raised his eyebrows at his assistant and replaced his headphones over his ears, closing his eyes for a quick nap before arrival at home.

After the home life Sage had once led, romance was the last thing on his mind.

# # #

[EvilDave]

There's nothing to be 'earned' as far as I'm concerned, this is excellent as ever - I admire your ability to tell so much in relatively few words, especially in a dialogue as above. It's great to have you back, 10-3.

[tenthreeleader]

You're kind, Dave ... greatly appreciated. I think I like where this effort is headed.

___

 

Sage was a loner. Now, he preferred it that way.

It helped him forget, or at least to avoid remembering.

He had met Rhonda while in his second year at Peterborough, and their son Sammy had been born just a year after their marriage.

He was a bright lad, blond-haired like his mother and the apple of everyone’s eye.

Yet, unknown to everyone, he also had been born with a heart defect. Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome occurs when the heart develops an extra electrical pathway. It can lead to issues with a person’s heartbeat because an extra electrical impulse can interfere with the heart’s regular performance.

And in very rare cases, it does what it did to Sammy Morison.

The boy was playing at his day care center when he said he didn’t feel well. He wanted to have a “lie down” and then he didn’t wake up.

Sometimes, WPW isn’t diagnosed until it’s fatal. And at age four, Sammy Morison was gone.

The stress and strain that can impact a relationship when a child dies can be profound and it certainly was the day that Rhonda read the internet and learned that WPW is the type of malady that can be genetically inherited from the father.

Sage sought out experts who told him that it was very likely nobody’s fault. Genetics is both a highly advanced and highly confusing science, but they told him, and told Rhonda, that even as tragic as their son’s death had been, attaching blame to it would be pointless.

They convinced everyone in the family except for Sage’s wife, who made his life hell for, in her words, “killing my baby”.

Sage had to deal with all this while he was still an active player, and nobody who knew what was going on was the least bit surprised to see that it sometimes affected his play.

He was patient. He was kind. But he was also a punching bag for a grieving wife and in the end, that grief cost them everything.

Finally, Sage came to the reluctant conclusion that it might be better for the couple to separate, and they did, followed by divorce a year later. Sage retired three years after that, his confidence in his game restored but his best playing days now past him.

He felt cheated, on a number of fronts. He tried not to let it affect how he lived his life, but it was one of the reasons that he let that life slide for eight years after retirement.

While a player, Sage never felt that he had the time to properly grieve for his son. Once he was done playing, he did little else.

That made returning to the game important to him, but at the same time, Sage felt that relationships were an invitation for trouble – and even for death, in a macabre sort of way.

So when McCabe had suggested to Sage that he might be interested in Kylie Flanagan, every part of his being rebelled against the idea.

It was just a hard idea for him to consider. Yes, he had gone straight to his treadmill upon seeing her for the first time, but there was really more than one reason why he had done so.

She did make him feel chunky. That was obvious – physically, she bordered on perfection. She also brought back memories that Sage wanted desperately to compartmentalize.

So, he ran. As fast as he could, in more than one way.

# # #

[Tikka Mezzala]

This is a very moving story. Looking forward to seeing where it goes.

[ChileanRanger]

hace 1 hora, Tikka Mezzala dijo:

This is a very moving story. Looking forward to seeing where it goes.

Well, you're not wrong. The story's amazing.

But for a second I half expected 10-3 to do this when I first saw that last bit.

“So he ran, he ran so far away
He just ran, he ran all night and day
He couldn’t get away.”

Before anyone asks, yes, I can see how that would kinda (very much) ruin it.

[tenthreeleader]

Actually, CR, I thought about something like that. And, as you note, I then thought better of it

Thanks for the comments -- they are all appreciated!

___

 

The best thing about running ten miles is that it feels so good when you stop.

Finally, Sage had to get off his treadmill (appreciative though he was about his pants fitting slightly better) and go back to leading his club, and after the first two league matches, it was time to get into Cup play.

18 August 2020
Cliftonville v Distillery |County Antrim Shield First Round

Cliftonville is a bigger club than Distillery. Most clubs in Northern Ireland are.

Though worth approximately 111 times more than their visitors in straight financial terms, the Reds were also a part-time team, and that gave Sage a reason for hope as the clubs clashed in the first round of the County Antrim Shield. That said, they are also the oldest club in Ireland.

This was a trophy the board wanted badly, even though they knew they couldn’t have it. So, they told Sage they wanted the team to compete.

Naturally, they were drawn away to Premier opposition in the first round. Upon seeing the draw, Sage uttered one breathtakingly rude word and set to work preparing his team.

Now, the day had arrived and Cliftonville’s Solitude ground was beckoning. Built in 1890, it had a recently installed synthetic surface – not bad for a part-time club.

As home to Ireland’s oldest club, Solitude is not coincidentally Ireland’s oldest ground, built in 1890. For years, it hosted international matches, especially in the early days of Irish football, and lays claim to being the ground on which the first Ireland team ever to avoid defeat against England played a 2-2 draw in 1894.

Sage was a student of football history and appreciated his surroundings, even if not everyone in the crowd appreciated an Englishman running the visiting side.

Sage told his players to enjoy the runout but to play hard, and they responded willingly. The teams took off on a 90-minute back-and-forth that was about as entertaining a match as you could find at that level.

Daire Rooney found the breakthrough in 26 minutes for the Whites, slicing home an incisive pass from O’Hanlon past keeper Conor Brennan.

Distillery made the lead stand up to the interval and that made Sage wonder whether the board would consider a halftime lead to be “competitive” enough.

But then he decided to have some fun with his players.

“Like that first half, did you?” he asked the players, who were rehashing the first 45 minutes with some enthusiasm when he walked into the changing room to start the team talk. “Well, keep your bottle in the second half and you’ll see how much fun this game can really be.”

The players rose to the challenge, and proceeded to go out and play exactly the same kind of track-meet style that had dominated the first half.

Sage tried everything to pull back the reins on his team but they kept surging forward. Finally, a shout of “are you lot listening to anything I’m telling you?” seemed to snap the defenders out of their trance and into proper alignment. They were a full ten yards too far upfield and that caused problems when the pacy Cliftonville forwards would try to get behind the back line.

Cliftonville wound up with 21 attempts for the match. But, due to a rather incredible degree of wastefulness in front of goal, keeper Pat Saunders only saw five of them wind up on frame. Distillery had 17 -- a more than credible number when playing away against bigger opposition.

Saunders stopped all five. Rooney hit the crossbar in the second half for good measure, and when the final whistle blew, Sage had his answer.

A cup win away to Premier opposition was indeed “competitive”, as a congratulatory text from chairman Jim Greer verified on the way home.

Cliftonville 0-1 Distillery
(Rooney 26)

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

”Well done”, the text read.

Sage nodded with satisfaction, but then looked at the number it had come from. It wasn’t from Greer, it was from Kylie Flanagan.

Now he shrugged his shoulders, thanked her for texting, and wondered why she should care. Sage wasn’t used to being cared about.

If that projected like a “poor me” approach, Sage would have agreed. That part of his life was dead, and entry into that part of his psyche was off limits to all but himself.

But still, he appreciated her gesture. In response to his attitude, Sage’s father would have told him to quit faffing about and get on the pull, but Dad had been gone for as long as Sammy, something else for Sage to stew over.

The Morison family was a happy one, quiet and very close-knit. His sister Rosemary was younger and so got extra attention. His parents honestly wanted a child named after each spice in the Simon and Garfunkel song Scarborough Fair, which mortified Sage and made him wonder how Parsley Morison and Thyme Morison would have enjoyed life. However, those children were never born, perhaps fortunately for them.

Stuart Morison had worked on what was left of the city’s docks for a living. Fishing wasn’t the main industry anymore and hadn’t been for over two hundred years, but there were still some fish to be caught and that was how Sage’s dad had spent his working years.

Rough-hewn, friendly and with a handshake that could crush the hand of a marble statue, he was a good man to have on your side if things ever got out of hand at the pub, and a devilishly wicked man to cross.

He brought up his children to be honest, fair and mentally tough. Then, six months after he retired, Stuart was diagnosed with cancer. He didn’t last long.

His last words to Sage were plain: “Stay in the game, son,” he had whispered. “That goes for your entire life. Stay in the game.”

Sage had nodded, and then ignored his father’s advice after retirement as an active player.

It was one reason why he was so driven at Distillery. He had indeed left the game, and was now trying to make up for the time he had lost.

Yet Sage’s temperament was much more along the lines of his mother’s. Sara and Sage were close, so close that you could always get a rise out of the lad by calling him a mummy’s boy.

Stuart had hands like rocks and was direct, as was Rosie. Sage preferred a softer approach. So did Sara, which is why they were all great together.  

Over the years, Sage thought this was one reason why he had been so good to Rhonda even when she hadn’t been so good to him. The most important woman in his life had been his mother and he wouldn’t have dreamed of being short or cross with her.

Rosie, on the other hand, was quite different. A tomboy from the word go, she was Sage’s measure in most things, except, thank God, for football. Sage needed a place where he could be first, and the game he loved was the ideal location for that purpose.

First. That desire was with Sage all the time. It drove him as a player, even when he found out in fairly short order that he didn’t have the skill set to play in the Premier League. But he could always do his best to make any team he played on be as good as it could be, and there was no harm in that.

It was a style he forgot during his absence from the game, but now that he was a manager for the first time, he could feel that ache to win returning. It was a healthy sign.

And Kylie had noticed. That made it even better.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Sometimes you draw. Sometimes you come up with cliches to explain why your team didn’t play better.

A full week of cup ties had Sage measuring his team against opposition both large and small – and it was a mixed bag of results to be sure.

The Tuesday following the big win over Cliftonville, Distillery opened play in the Steel and Sons Cup -- for the first time ever as holders.

22 August 2020
Distillery v Glentoran Seconds |Steel and Sons Cup Second Round

Nine minutes into the contest, things were looking about as bright as they could for Distillery. Daire Rooney had just scored and every indication was that the Whites were going to put up a cricket score against an overmanned and overwhelmed Glentoran Seconds team.

It was fairly easy to see why their opposition were not Glentoran Firsts, as they seemed relatively unacquainted with the concepts of either decent midfield play or any sort of linkup between units on the pitch. They would bomb the ball forward and run onto it – a brutally direct style that was easy for Sage’s men to defend.

The one thing Seconds had was a goalkeeper. 17-year old Ryan Dolzell was having a blinder. So even though Rooney had pushed Distillery in front, nothing else his mates could do was able to add to the advantage. One-nil at the break was okay but not thrilling, and Sage told his team that at the interval.

They responded with more of the same – dominance in possession, a heavy advantage in attempts – and nothing past Dolzell.

It was never really close, but in the end, a single goal was the entire output for the day, despite 20 attempts, 61 percent possession and a dozen corners.

That was why when striker Ben Cushnie hit a piledriver of a header off Jonah Nicholl’s crossbar three minutes from time, Sage’s heart went to his throat. Thankfully, the back line was equal to the task and the holders were through, but only just.

Distillery 1-0 Glentoran Seconds
(Rooney 9)

The following Tuesday, Distillery faced Northern Ireland’s ultimate test in the Bet McLean Cup Second Round – a Linfield side that was rested and ready to take on Sage’s part-timers.

The match being drawn at Windsor Park didn’t help matters from Sage’s point of view, and with only one brief training session between the matches, nobody was holding out any real hopes for the Whites to advance.

He didn’t play his best team against Glentoran, understanding full well that another “be competitive” mandate was coming down from on high, and to be fair, there was really no sense in sending kids out to get slaughtered by the country’s top side.

Instead, he told the players to stay in and recover their strength. Nobody was expecting them to win, but Sage wanted them to play for fun and for pride.

25 August 2020
Linfield v Distillery | Bet McLean Cup Second Round

They were not playing badly at all.

Linfield was taking every opportunity to surge forward and create problems for Sage’s men, but the night’s back line of Jude Ballard, Daniel White, Joe Reid and Josh Doyle was bending but not breaking.

Jonah Nicholl was in goal for this game and the second-choice keeper had his hands full. Mainly he had his hands full of the ball, which is why he was back there in the first place, but as the match actually got to halftime goalless, Sage saw some reason to pump his players up.

“This is brilliant so far,” he told them. “You’ve done very well to get to where you are – now who wants to go out and find a goal that will shock the whole country?”

Letting the players dream a bit was worthwhile in a case like this – within reason. Players with their heads in the clouds had a hard time keeping their feet on the ground, and as such that game was a little bit dangerous for a manager to play.

But as the second half began, it soon became apparent that the part-timers were not here as makeweights. They were holding their own in possession, they were finding ways to get forward when the moment was right, and above all they weren’t breaking down.

And Nicholl was an acrobat. That was perhaps the best news of all. Four clear-cut chances came his way in the second half and the keeper snuffed them all out, with a series of saves ranging from “high quality” to “how in the hell did he do that?”

It soon became apparent that extra time was going to be needed to decide the issue, and that in itself was a major victory. Ninety minutes still hadn’t been enough to see a goal scored, so a quick break between sessions of added time gave Sage a chance to let his players dream some more.

“You’re holding them,” he told them over the murmur of an understandably surprised Windsor Park crowd. “Now take it from them.”

Linfield hammered away at the Distillery back line for fourteen more minutes before the big break finally came. It was Daniel Kearns who provided it, and since he didn’t play for the Whites, that was a little disappointing to witness.

Playing as the leftmost midfielder in Linfield’s 4-2-3-1, he worked a lovely interchange with striker Michael O’Connor and, at last, slotted past Nicholl to give the home team the lead after 104 minutes of play.

The Whites’ heads drooped a bit after that, and the hosts took advantage, with O’Connor blasting home in the first-half added time while all four Distillery defenders were appealing for offside.

Sage simply clapped his hands, told the players he wanted them to get forward since they had nothing to lose, and sat back to see what would happen.

What he saw was Daire Rooney surging forward to score with a truly marvelous twenty-yard strike before a minute of second half added time had passed. McCaw had been the provider and the striker’s expression suggested that the visitors were far from finished.

They felt that sentiment in their hearts, but their legs were another matter entirely. They were a spent force, and when Chris Casement shook loose from his right fullback position to score after a mazy run in 111 minutes, the challenge from Sage’s men had been truly seen off.

However, the post-match handshakes suggested more than a simple pat on the head from the victorious home team. “We wouldn’t like to play you again any time soon,” Linfield boss David Healy said as he met Sage after the final whistle. “You gave us all we wanted and then some.”

“That’s why we came here,” Sage said simply, and headed to the changing room to console his team.

Linfield 3-1 Distillery (aet)
Rooney 106

# # #  

[tenthreeleader]

The Linfield result had been a tough one to swallow, even if Distillery hadn’t been fancied to win. The players’ heads had drooped and so it was a good thing they were back in action on the following Saturday.

29 August 2020
Dergview v Dundela | Bluefin Sport Championship Round Three

Being away had its merits as well. There are few things better than opposing fans screaming at you to bring clarity of mind and purpose.

It’s even better when there are only 77 of them to contend with – five people had made the trek to support Distillery away, so the total assemblage still needed both teams counted to break into triple digits.

The Whites came out flat. That was to be expected, since several of them had gone the full 120 minutes against Linfield just three days prior, and one of them was Rooney, who was leading the line.

Yet it was the team’s grizzled veteran, 33-year old Andrew Long, who opened the scoring with a scorcher from distance only 13 minutes into the match. Andrew didn’t score many, so to see him catch lightning in a bottle was helpful to everyone in the side.

Slowly at first, and then more rapidly, Distillery pulled themselves off the mat. Only three minutes later, the suddenly-scorching Rooney had scored again, volleying gleefully past keeper Jason Craughwell to make it 2-0 to the visitors with barely a quarter hour played.

Thrown back hard on their heels by Distillery’s fast start, the home team spent the next few minutes just getting their feet back under them, but the Whites still had twelve attempts in the first 45 minutes. Away from home, that was more than acceptable, and so was Aaron Harris’ rising twenty-yard strike seven minutes before the interval.

Three-nil away at the break was about as good as Sage could hope for, but now he found himself with a dilemma. The prior season, every time he had told the team either to not let up after a big first half or not to let their performance drop, that was exactly what had happened.

“I want you to work for ninety minutes,” he told them simply. “The players who are capable of doing that are the ones who are going to get the most playing time in this setup. The coaches, and I, will be watching.”

The veiled threat still seemed empty due to the team’s small squad size, and it showed in the second half. The number of attempts dropped from 12 in the first half to only three in the second 45 minutes, as the Whites were clearly cruising to victory by that time, to the surprise of no one.

Harris did his best to instill the right spirit by scoring his second goal of the match in 52 minutes, giving him both a goal seven minutes before halftime and seven minutes after it in the same game. But after that, the Distillery players as a team started to look lethargic.

It was driving Sage crazy and his mood wasn’t helped by George Moore ruining Saunders’ clean sheet just after the hour mark. But try as he might, the attacking verve of the first half was gone for the day. It’s hard to complain about a three-goal win away from home, but Sage was considering it after the final whistle blew.

Dergview 1-4 Distillery
(Long 13, Rooney 16, Harris 35, 52)

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

30 August 2020

As part of the deal that had brought him to Distillery, the club was responsible for expenses incurred for Sage to continue work on his badges.

Greer had okayed the expense for Sage, but not for anyone else on his staff, and it took Sage’s expressed desire to pay for a new course for McCabe’s out of his own pocket before the chairman relented.

Sage was getting a reputation as a bit of a spender – but then at a part-time club, spending more than a fiver on a player would give you that distinction – but his point had been clear: better education led to better managing, better results and healthier players.

For Sage, this meant starting work on his UEFA A qualification. McCabe was somewhat farther down the list but there was no reason he couldn’t study for the benefit of the club as well as himself.

This was one instance where managing a part-time club was actually a benefit – study would take place over a series of pre-selected dates which were easier for him to attend due to not needing leave from his club to be there.

The A license has two study parts – a 13-day preparatory course followed by an eight-day follow-up. The participant then receives a final assessment over a separate weekend which determines whether the course is passed or not.

Sage had taken the 13-day course already – Wokefield Park in Berkshire had hosted the event during the close season – and it had helped him immensely in shaping his team for the season just begun.

Curriculum included:

• Attacking from set plays (corner, free kick, throw-in)
• Development of possession and effective movement
• Possession, playing out in back three
• Tactical use of possession
• Development of quick inter-passing and quick attacking play
• Counterattacking
• Coach wingers how, where and when to receive the ball
• Crossing and finishing
• Defending deep with a back three
• Defending deep with a back four
• Defending with a back three
• Pressing
• Transition
• Goalkeeping
• Fitness

Not bad for a couple of weeks' work.

Now Sage was sat in the same classroom in Berkshire, with a new agenda before him. He had received leave from the course for one day – on the Tuesday, Distillery faced Banbridge in the league and he needed to be there.

On the following Friday, Cliftonville City was scheduled to visit in the Third Round of the Steel and Sons Cup, and McCabe would take the team for that match since the only people the competition mattered to were already sated by the club being holders. Cliftonville was expected to be little more than a speed bump to Distillery regardless of who was managing the Whites in any event.

So as Sage looked down at his sheet, he saw more subjects that were of keen interest to him:

• The full back as an attacker
• Number Four as a quarter back
• Overcoming deep-lying defences
• The role of the number nine
• The role of the number ten
• The Shadow Striker plus wrong-sided wide men
• Flexible forwards
• Attacking with a sweeper
• Defending with a sweeper
• Game Management: ‘Coaching in the game’

 “I think this is going to be fun,” he thought to himself. As he handed the required portfolio from his B license to the instructors start the course, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

 “Mind if I join you?” a voice asked.

 It was Kylie. Sage tried, and failed, to conceal his surprise.

 # # #

[tenthreeleader]

“What brings you here?” Sage asked, immediately regretting his choice of words. 

“Women can be football managers too,” Kylie replied. If she had been hurt by Sage’s words, she hadn’t shown it.

 “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said sheepishly.

 “I know you didn’t,” she answered. “If I had thought otherwise, you can bet I wouldn’t have let you plead guilty as charged.” With that she smiled and sat next to him at what was now their table.

 “Honestly, the way things are going it looks like some sort of UEFA license is going to be needed for people to manage in the Women’s Super League,” she said. “So, I’m here.”

 “And there aren’t many women here,” Sage responded.

 “Counting me, I see one,” Kylie replied. “And I might be the only woman to get this far.”

 “Well, then that’s wonderful,” he said, starting to feel a little more secure in himself. “And since I haven’t seen you since your team played on our pitch, I should tell you that you put on quite a show with your young ladies.”

 “Thank you,” she smiled. “Though your pitch is rank rotten.”

 “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I’ve been through that with the board for the last year and a half. No money to fix it.”

 “Well, mind that it doesn’t get dangerous,” she advised.

 “Nobody wants that,” Sage agreed. “So why was it that your team wound up on our rank rotten little patch anyway?”

 “Because, quite frankly, everywhere else we wanted to play in Belfast was booked,” she said. “That seems odd, but of the places we looked at, yours was the best available. Believe it or not, there are some pitches in this country in worse shape than yours.”

 Sage chuckled ruefully. “Don’t I know it,” he replied. “I see my boys slipping and sliding all over the place sometimes when it’s raining. I have them put on boots with longer studs But of course you can’t use screw-in studs, so sometimes the football isn’t exactly lovely to watch.”

 “I saw your highlights a couple of times,” Kylie said. “You could have fooled me on most days.”

 “I have a good crew,” Sage answered modestly. “The lads have it down, now, after a year and a couple of months together.”

 “They execute the tactical plan well and we both know it,” she teased. “Give yourself a bit of credit, you’ve got a group of part-time players who are punching like Tyson Fury at the moment.”

 “What I’d give for a 6’9” targetman,” he smiled, in reference to the boxer’s towering height. “Can you imagine? Nobody’d go near him.”

 “Well, that’s quite the dream,” she said. “So tell me, Sage, what brings you here?”

 “Blind ambition,” he replied without either a moment’s delay or a shard of self-doubt. “If I’m to make the most out of getting back into the game I think I owe it to myself to see how far I can get. To do that I need this badge.”

 “So we’re here for the same reason,” Kylie answered. “That’s what I thought you would say.”

 “And if I hadn’t?”

 “Then I’d wonder why you were in the business,” she admitted, as the instructors stepped to the front of the room. “As it stands, I’ve no doubt at all.”

 # # #

[oche balboa]

Enjoyable Read. 

[tenthreeleader]

1 September 2020
Distillery v Banbridge | Bluefin Sport Championship Round Four

If Distillery’s strong start was making an impact in the surrounding community, it certainly wasn’t showing up in the attendance figures.

Sage had made the trip over (and across) from Berkshire for the game and from the looks of things, he had expended a lot more effort than most of the town. There were only 155 souls in the park at kickoff for the matchup with Banbridge, who started the match with three strikers and 21 fans in attendance.

Playing three up front against Sage away from home was a bit cheeky, but there was Banbridge in 4-3-3, demonstrating intent from the kickoff.

There was a reason for this. Banbridge had done the double over Distillery during last year’s title-winning season, winning 3-1 at home and 1-0 at New Grosvenor Park. It was entirely understandable that they would feel confident, having been promoted themselves through the playoffs and earning status as Sage’s hoodoo club along the way.

Yet Distillery was a different team in some ways and one of the differences was in the play of Johnny McCaw.

The winger had been invisible against Banbridge in two starts the season before but on this day he was in scintillating form, dashing up and down his wing with ease and purpose, pressing the advantage a four-man midfield should have over one with three.

He crossed for McIlmail to nod home in 26 minutes which was surely no less than his play deserved, but he did it again eight minutes later to force a change in alignment from the visitors and for Stuart King to throw his match plan straight into File 13.

The visitors dropped one of the three attacking players off the strikers to give them a sort of hybrid 4-3-1-2 / 4-3-3 look but it didn’t help much. Finally, King dropped back into a flat 4-4-2 to try to stop McCaw, who was now a chance creating machine.

The 2-0 lead Distillery took to the break pleased Sage greatly, and his team’s response to the team talk was almost as gratifying. Teams have an annoying tendency to switch off when taking an impressive lead into the break and despite all of Sage’s pleadings, his team was not immune to this effect.

Today, though, Sage demanded – and got – 90 minutes from his players. Michael O’Hanlon, playing the opposite side of the midfield from McCaw and who had gone largely unnoticed in the first half due to the latter’s excellence, took an overlap ball from Timmy Clarke, cut to the middle, and unleashed past veteran keeper Jason Mooney from twenty yards.

That lead was quite safe indeed, and Sage watched his charges storm to victory.

It was time to go back to Berkshire, and he was certainly looking forward to that.

Distillery 3-0 Banbridge Town
McIlmail (26, 34); O’Hanlon (64)

# # #

[mark wilson27]

A few good results their sir...as always sir and excellent read

[tenthreeleader]

On lunch break, Sage looked at his text messages. There was one from McCabe which made Sage toss his head back in frustration.

The draw for the Irish Cup had Distillery away to Linfield – again.

“You know, I get that David Healy said he wouldn’t like to play us again soon,” Sage sighed as he took his seat next to Kylie in their Berkshire classroom. “I wonder if he meant it.”

“Take him at face value,” Kylie advised. “Honestly, though, you know as well as I do that what really matters is how you approach the match from your team’s point of view rather than worrying about him.”

‘True enough,” Sage responded. “Maybe I need a little backbone.”

“That’s not the issue either,” she said kindly. “Just take the matches as they come. You know that you can’t change anything, so you might as well enjoy the ride.”

He looked at her and realized that she was right. His mind immediately started spinning back to the first match between the clubs and what his boys could do differently this time around.

Linfield was the biggest challenge in Northern Ireland and on their ground, that challenge would be even more stern.

“Run, and you are through,” Sage reminded himself, and in the few remaining minutes before class began, he started to sketch out a match plan.

5 September 2020
Distillery v Cliftonville City – Steel & Sons Cup Third Round

McCabe sat back in the manager’s chair and wondered why he couldn’t someday have one just like it, either at Distillery or somewhere else.

Sage had left him with a match plan for the tie against City, but had told him he was free to do whatever he wished within its bounds.

The strategy was the same one that Walter Smith had used to groom Ally McCoist for management at Rangers. Cup ties were McCoist’s to run, and even though the eventual overall strategy hadn’t worked out, it was a way for a young manager to learn the ropes.

McCabe hadn’t run a team before. But as he watched his well-drilled charges press City hard in the first half, he could see what a well organized side could do even at this level.

Rhys Ferris had scored only seven minutes into the match, a delightfully twisting volley struck from about thirty yards that was certainly a goal-scorer’s goal.

But as McCabe sat back on the bench thinking of how good he had it, City’s Ryan Carmichael burst between Joe Reid and Leighton Jameson to slot home 24 minutes in, getting the visitors level and, as importantly, giving the smaller club some momentum against the holders.

Now he had real work to do. McCabe, after a moment, stood up, walked to the touchline and clapped his hands a few times.

“Nothing lost, lads,” he said. “Mind your business and get it back.”

It was what Sage would have done, and McCabe knew it.

But within five minutes, his team listened, through Nick Beta. Two minutes later, Ferris scored again. One minute before the break, Beta found the range with a free header from a corner.

So it was 4-1 at the interval and McCabe could reflect on a pretty good first half for his team.

He wanted them to score goals. One of the things that frustrated Sage the most was his team’s annoying tendency to let up when they got well ahead, instead of playing through to the finish.

There was no such issue this time, as substitute Daire Rooney resumed the onslaught four minutes after the restart and Andrew Long made it 6-1 only two minutes after that.

The game was buried, McCabe had an easy win and he had even managed to shepherd the team past a few minutes of relative adversity.

In Berkshire, Sage looked at the final scoreline and smiled.

Distillery 6-1 Cliftonville City
Ferris 7, 31; Beta 29, 44; Rooney 49, Long 51

# # #

[gavrenwick]

The man returns and just churns out pure storytelling magic as easily as he would sleep. I call shenanigans. I also was planning a return. Might delay it; can't compete.  

 

 

[tenthreeleader]

Mr. Renwick, you don't do yourself justice, but thank you for the kind words

___

9 September 2020
Linfield v Distillery – County Antrim Shield Quarterfinal

Sage stepped back out onto the pitch at Windsor Park and thought that football can be a cruel game.

Not that he was planning on being a makeweight, mind you – but in a competition the board wanted to win, seeing Linfield lined up against his Distillery team again was perhaps not the best way to go about it.

He had spent the evening after returning from Berkshire with his nose in video of the first match, looking for anything that could give his team the cutting edge it had lacked the last time.

He decided on coming out stronger than in the first match. “We held them for over ninety minutes before they beat us,” he told the players in the changing room. “Go out there, try to get your noses in front and let’s see how things play out. In the meantime, you know you’ll give them a game and they know you’ll give them a game. All the pressure is on them, so go to it.”

And, lo and behold, there was Waide celebrating after only six minutes, beneficiary of a tremendous cross from Ferris to nod past Gareth Deane and home for a lead that was as unlikely as it was welcome.

Over on the Linfield bench, David Healy stood up from his chair with a look of annoyance on his face. Distillery had stolen a march on the champions and the boss wasn’t happy.

“What did I tell you lot before kickoff?” he yelled. “Don’t give them life!”

Now that it was established that the goal wasn’t the manager’s fault, play resumed. And Linfield started to hammer away at the part-timers’ defense.

Over and over again, as it turned out, but time and again Nicholl was equal to the task. He made two great saves just before the half hour, to deny first Michael O’Connor and then veteran midfielder Jamie Mulgrew, who was stamping his name on the match early on, controlling Distillery’s midfield in the process.

That said, it took the hosts over forty minutes to finally break through. Mulgrew, who was growing in influence by the moment, gave Nicholl no chance while turning in John Herron’s square ball from inside the six-yard box.

Sage could hardly argue. The hosts were dominant, with Waide’s goal the only effort Distillery had managed to put on target in the first 45 minutes, while their hosts had had 14.

At the break, Sage knew that his men were in for another long half, but told them to expect it instead of trying to get onto the front foot. “Stay compact, keep your shape, and let’s hit them on the counter,” Sage said. “Our back line is playing well, most of their shots are from range, but these people would deserve it if we could smash and grab this one.”

The players headed out for the second half and wound up doubling their attempts total in the first five minutes, with a third coming shortly after, but as Linfield continued to probe, push and try to defeat the low block Sage’s defenders had set, it was a point of considerable pride to Sage that Distillery didn’t give in.

Healy ran through his substitutes in the second half looking for a winner, while Distillery stayed dug in. Their dominance in attempts was reduced sharply when Distillery stayed parking the bus, which was interesting to Sage. There was no chance of grabbing a late winner that way, but the cohesion between his midfield and back line was gratifying.

Referee Arnold Hunter blew for full time, and Sage felt cheeky enough to glance in Healy’s direction as the teams headed back to their benches.

“Best two out of three?” Healy smiled, as the two men returned to their teams.

Now Sage began to put fresh legs on the park, hoping to get the match to penalties or to find a miracle winner.

It was going to be difficult to find, that much was certain. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. In extra time, Distillery doubled its attempts for the entire match, as Healy’s team started to show real signs of fatigue.

Historically speaking, the Battle of Hastings was lost when the forces of Harold Godwinson raced out of their ranks and tried to pursue an enemy they thought was beaten. It turned out they weren’t, and William the Conqueror became king of England.

While certainly not on that scale, the second Battle of Windsor Park now saw Distillery, despite Sage’s urgings, getting forward – and overextending.

Ninety-nine minutes into the match, O’Connor found enough of a seam between White and Jameson to take a ball from Mulgrew and split them. Nicholl tried to make himself big but O’Connor found the bottom corner to put Linfield in front.

Now it really was time to try to get forward, and Distillery began to dictate the tempo in a desperate search for a late equalizer. But with Nicholl too venturing forward, Mulgrew found a way to lob him as the second half of extra time ended.

Again, Distillery’s hopes had been extinguished by the biggest club in Northern Ireland. But as Healy warmly shook hands with Sage after the final whistle, Sage remarked that the kindness didn’t make him feel any better.

Linfield 3-1 Distillery aet
Waide 6

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

After the match, Sage had been kind to his players even though they hadn’t followed the tactical plan to the end.

“They wanted to win the match,” he told the press. “I can’t honestly blame them for that.”

He could, however, blame them for not listening – but chose not to. After a long think on the ride home after the match, Sage realized that his coursework had taught him something. Part-time players are different.

If you give them a chance to go for glory on a big stage, they’re going to try to take it. Nothing can stop them from trying. They’ll almost certainly crash and burn, but the understanding that they want to make the attempt is part of being a good manager.

Being out of the Antrim Shield was harder for the board to swallow than it was for Sage. But the players had a match coming up on the following Saturday, so the sackcloth and ashes were put back into the closet after a day’s commiseration.

Dundela was next – a team already sliding toward the bottom of the table, very beatable, and the match was at home. That was where Sage knew he needed to focus his attention, on getting his team back on the right side of the ledger.

A text message from Kylie the morning after the Linfield match had made him feel a bit better. She wrote “I told you you’d give them a game,” and he had responded that close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

“Cut yourself some slack,” she responded, “or I’ll have to come over there and do it for you.”

Sage entertained the briefest of thoughts on how he could communicate that might be a wonderful idea, but got his mind back on business.

She was starting to grow on him. Sage hadn’t expected that, but she had done very well in Berkshire, at least as well as he had, and he enjoyed her company. After a time, he realized that he respected both of those facts in nearly equal measure.

He wasn’t a workaholic, but he certainly took his job seriously, and that meant that extracurriculars were a lower priority than they were for a lot of players and managers. It was just that she seemed to keep showing up in places where Sage wasn’t expecting her.

Not that this was bad. Even though nobody expected to find Kylie in a continental certification course, the fact that she was there was a great thing. The standard of coaching in the women’s game is advancing by leaps and bounds and with many clubs also fielding women’s sides, the demand for qualified coaches was advancing right along with it.

But she had work to do with her younglings as well. So, the two didn’t have much time to connect before Distillery was again in action at the weekend.

12 September 2020
Distillery v Dundela | Bluefin Sport Championship Round Five

Sage watched an old friend taking his warmups prior to the match and silently wished things had gone differently in one way last season.

His old captain, James Wright, now wore Dundela’s colors and that was a point of contention for Sage. Wright had decided he wanted to get promoted early the season before, and left Distillery in January. His old mates joined him in the spring, and now he was nominally the enemy.

About a quarter of the 194 in attendance were away supporters, though, so Wright’s arrival wasn’t greeted with unanimous disdain.

Though he had worn the armband for Sage, he had made only 23 appearances for the club before departing – 18 of them in the last term. Sage saw him as a natural leader and he was popular with his teammates right up until he left.

Meanwhile, Sage had been forced to name several players who had gone up against Linfield earlier in the week, which he preferred not to have to do just 72 hours after they had gone 120 minutes.

So, it should not have come as a surprise to anyone that Distillery would come out heavy-legged and lethargic against Dundela.

That gave Duns boss Michael O’Connor reason for optimism, and he set his stall out with two strikers and instructions to get forward.

The first half was, frankly, boring. Neither side showed a talent for getting forward even though both paid lip service to the concept.

Sage stayed patient, though, and was rewarded when Rooney, who had come on as a late sub against Linfield, looped a lovely little chip over Adam Pollock in 32 minutes to put Distillery’s noses in front.

That was far and away the highlight of the first half. In 45 minutes, the teams had combined for exactly five attempts at goal with Rooney’s marker being the only one from either team to wind up on frame.

“Well, we’re awake and in front,” Sage said as the players sat for halftime refreshments. “Two things we couldn’t say at the start of the match.”

Sage was happy to note that the Duns were having as much trouble getting into shooting positions as his team were, and since he was in front he hoped it would stay that way.

Early in the second half Rooney doubled his tally, this time with a far more menacing strike from just outside the area in 58 minutes.

Since Dundela was hardly managing to maintain possession in the Distillery half, that lead looked fairly safe – until Wright took over.

The former Distillery man weaved his way through and around the Distillery defense to beat Nicholl from just outside the top of the area in 69 minutes – and was cheeky enough to applaud his goal against his old team on their own patch.

“That was annoying,” Sage remarked to McCabe as the Duns returned to their positions so Distillery could kick off.

“Aye,” McCabe replied. “That it was.” His look shot daggers at the midfielder, who made a point of not looking back toward the benches as play resumed.

Wright’s reaction helped Distillery find another gear, which was good since staying stuck in third gear on the freeway will burn up your engine. Seven minutes later, Waide responded with Distillery’s third goal, and the home team was finally home and dry.

At the whistle, Wright approached Sage, his hand extended.

“I’m sorry, gaffer,” he said. “I forgot where I was. Nothing meant by it.”

Sage shook his ex-captain’s hand, accepted the apology, and knew that Wright would have been more likely to remember his surrounds had he stayed at Distillery.

Distillery 3-1 Dundela
Rooney 32, 58; Waide 76

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Sage was a homebody. That was obvious to even the casual observer.

He would show up to training in wrinkled clothes, perhaps looking like he needed to comb his hair with something other than a bath towel, but his appearance was never anything egregious.

So it was that after the Dundela match and a day off that Sage showed up for a coaches’ meeting looking like he had been spun dry along with his laundry, that his staff felt they could kid the boss.

“I thought you weren’t seeing Kylie,” McCabe joked.

Sage blushed a bright red. “I’m not,” he insisted. “Really.”

“Well, you look like you had a hot date and this is the morning after,” McCabe said, ducking Sage’s friendly throw of a ball of wadded athletic tape in response. At least Sage was smiling, which counted for something.

“I get the message,” he finally said after looking at himself in the mirror. “I get the message.”

With that, they began to prepare for the Saturday’s game away to Newry City, which was finding life a bit difficult for the first time in several years.

They were a new club and a real success story. They were founded in 2013, and then promoted for three straight seasons starting in 2016, going from the fourth tier to the Danske Bank Premiership after advancing through the playoffs from the 2019 Championship.

Once there, though, they had been cuffed straight back to the Championship, finishing bottom of the Premiership in a season where they won only six matches and shipped 68 goals, and followed that up with eighth place in 2020. Getting back to the top was proving difficult.

They were the early leaders, winning their first three matches on the spin, but had earned just two of the next nine points on offer. As such, they were four points behind Sage’s table-toppers on match day.

All that said, Newry City was an example of how to build a club, and an example of how to consolidate the gains made along the way. They might not be at the top of the table, but they were becoming established at Championship level. Distillery could learn from them as part of its own rebuilding process.

So as Sage watched video and probed for weaknesses, he knew that a trip to Newry Showgrounds was a good measuring stick for how far his club, and not just his team, had really come.

19 September 2020
Newry City AFC v Distillery | Bluefin Sport Championship Round 6

Both teams came out in 4-4-2 and went at each other like punch-drunk boxers. It wasn’t exactly the most artistic match the beautiful game had ever seen.

The first ten minutes seemed to be a contest to see who could spurn the most impressive chances to score. Young striker Mark McCabe nodded over on a disturbingly free header from City’s first corner of the match in four minutes, but Ryan Berry did him one better by rounding keeper Aaron Hogg out of the goal on a counter a few minutes later – but missing an open goal completely.

“I wonder how my ulcer is doing today?” Sage joked to McCabe with a rueful grin. “Berry will be the death of me.”

But then, even punch-drunk boxers land the occasional haymaker, and they’re all the more dangerous as a result. Aaron Harris, who had entertained everyone in the last training session by trying to score from the halfway line in a light scrimmage, shook loose a 30-yard thunderbolt fourteen minutes into the match to fire Distillery into an early lead.

After the requisite celebration, McCabe turned to Sage and asked: “Okay, who kidnapped Harris and what have they done with the real one?”

Joking aside, the new skipper had scored a goal worthy to win any football match and this one was less than a quarter-hour old.

The question was going to be which drunkard club would to sober up first, and the answer appeared to be Newry City. They found their stride toward the end of the first half and wound up putting 11 attempts toward the Distillery goal in the first 45 minutes, with Nicholl and the Whites hanging on by their fingernails as the break approached.

Distillery, perhaps still feeling the effects of so much football over the preceding days, was forced into fouling to stop the Newry City attack. Finally, McCaw went into referee Adrian Lackey’s book ten minutes from the break for persistent fouling and nobody in Distillery colors could have had the first complaint.

Distillery had managed seven attempts, though, had been better in the air, antiseptic in the tackle and had had better possession, even if they could hardly stop their hosts’ direct game when they gave up the ball.

At the break, Sage told his players to hang in there, asked Harris if he had another of those goals in his other foot, and sent them back onto the pitch.

Where they promptly saw more of the same. Distillery had the better of possession, and that counted for a lot because Newry City was even more poised on the counter. They generated more chances in the second half then they had done in the first, and finally Sage considered a change to 4-2-3-1 because his back line needed the help two holders could provide.

It was odd, though, that the goal that decided matters would come from a most unlikely source. Josh Doyle, who was already in Sage’s ear for more playing time, came on as a late substitute and bent home what was supposed to be a cross for Alex McIlmail at the edge of the six-yard box.

It was another thirty-yard goal, though this time not intended, and it came ten minutes from time. The home team, despite 23 attempts on the day with nine on target, was leaving their home ground as the victim of a most impressive smash-and-grab from a Distillery team that had now won six straight in the league.

Newry City AFC 0-2 Distillery
Harris 14, Doyle 80

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Northern Ireland isn’t exactly the epicenter of European football, but the six wins out of the gate for the part-timers from Lisburn Distillery was starting to attract media attention.

There was a certain amount of romance attached to the “one-time Benfica opponents rising from the ashes” type of story, but the last thing Sage wanted was for his team to get the “pat on the head” treatment from anybody, least of all the Belfast media.

So it was that, for the first time, there were more than two journos at Sage’s weekly news event.

Colin Taylor of Goal magazine was there, which was unusual, because he never seemed to leave Belfast. He was joined by Eoin Sullivan, who was Distillery’s only known blogger. His page, “The Whites Stuff”, was dreary to read but he supported the club through thick and thin and he was easy to talk to personally.

The third was an interesting addition to the group – The Guardian’s football writer, Richard Paulson, was also in attendance, making him the highest-level journo to be seen at New Grosvenor Park in many years.

They all wanted to know how Sage was doing it.

“There’s nothing special to what we’re doing,” he answered. “We play a pretty simple alignment, as you all know we’re almost exclusively a 4-4-2 side and it’s all about getting the ball into space and into wide areas where we can do something with it. I’m pretty sure when they invented this game, that was what they had in mind.”

“But your players execute it seamlessly, which not many part-time clubs do,” Taylor said. It was as much a statement as a question.

“I’m not sure I’d go quite that far,” Sage answered, “but I appreciate the compliment. Our boys know what their roles are and how they’re expected to play within our scheme. So far it seems to have worked well.”

“Except against Linfield,” Paulson interjected.

“Except against Linfield,” Sage repeated, a hint of a frown crossing his face. “But then, a lot of clubs in this country have trouble executing against Linfield. We scored on them in both cup ties and took them to extra time in both cup ties, despite playing away in both matches. I don’t think that’s too bad a job, do you?”

“No offense intended,” Paulson said smoothly. “It seems that only the best teams in the country are able to handle you at the moment.”

That statement had “trap” written all over it and Sage knew it. “We’ve played very well,” he said in a measured tone. “I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to say clubs can’t cope with us, but we have taken advantage of anyone who has taken us lightly and for me, that’s a solid accomplishment as we try to establish this club at its present level.”

The news conference, such as it was, broke up and the journos went away with their headlines and quotes, leaving Sage to wonder why, all of a sudden, he was such an attraction.

The players noted it too, and the boss had to duck friendly jabs from the players after everything broke up.

“Manager of the year,” Harris called from across the practice pitch. Since New Grosvenor Park was also the practice pitch, it seemed fitting.

“Mind that your manager of the year doesn’t make you run laps until you toss up last night’s dinner,” Sage shouted in response.

The mood of the squad was good. Perhaps too good.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

22 September 2020
Distillery v Loughall | Bluefin Sport Championship Round 7

“Remind me never to talk to reporters before a match again,” Sage snapped at McCabe after referee Ken Gibbons had blown for full time. “Invincibles, we are not.”

“Don’t be too hard on them,” McCabe advised. “After all, they didn’t lose.”

“Well, if any of them watched the bloody news these last few days you’d excuse them for thinking they invented the game. Today, they figured out that they did no such thing.”

It had been a sloppy performance. They had conceded from a set piece, with defender Daniel Hanna rising highest to head past Nicholl only thirteen minutes onto the match.

“They get a defender that far forward and we don’t even notice he’s there,” Sage fumed as he watched the teams head back up the pitch for the kickoff.

“Well, you did,” McCabe said, sliding in as gentle a needle to his boss as he dared.

“How long have you worked for Distillery, not counting today?” Sage replied, with the hint of a smile creasing his face to let McCabe know he had appreciated the gallows humor.

They then watched McIlmail find a way back for the Whites only eight minutes later. The club’s leading scorer worked the half-spaces well on his preferred side, the right, found space and squeezed a shot between Gareth Buchanan’s arm and his left post from just inside the top of the penalty area.

So both teams had scored within the first twenty-one minutes, and the throng of 154 dedicated supporters who had braved a late September drizzle looking on, everyone settled in for a thrilling match.

Only it wasn’t.

Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was Loughall daring Distillery by playing three midfielders and three strikers, and watching Sage’s players look like they had never enjoyed a numerical advantage before.

Or, maybe it was something else.

The point was, Sage couldn’t figure it out and even after a halftime talk based upon the principle of playing with passion and desire, the answer wasn’t forthcoming in the second half, either.

Meanwhile, Loughall was perfectly content to hold the ball and play for a draw away from home. Eventually, those three midfielders became five, and there was no way to a winner for Distillery.

They had four shots on frame in ninety minutes, one of their poorer outputs on the season and after a promising start, McIlmail had faded into insignificance at the front of the line.

“It’s better than losing,” Sage muttered as the teams headed to the changing rooms. “But not much.”

Distillery 1-1 Loughall
McIlmail 21

“Let’s go out for a drink.”

Kylie’s text message was as heartening as the day had been disappointing for Sage. Since returning from Berkshire and their shared classes, they hadn’t had much time for connection.

He was surprised at the fact that he had missed her company. After asking himself “are you blind, man?” Sage had decided to allow himself the pleasures of experiencing human emotion in a world that had heretofore been almost solely dedicated to football.

“Love to,” he responded. “Where are you?”

There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line. His phone rang. It was Kylie.

Sage answered.

“Well, if you must know, I’m parked across the street from your flat,” she giggled. “Come on, then, let’s go forget about today.”

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Sage’s mood was better after he and Kylie parted that night, but it wasn’t made much better by the news waiting for him at training the next day.

They had been drawn away to Crusaders Reserves in the Steel and Sons Cup which, as holders, they were now expected to contest, unlike last season.

That had been part of the fun of things then – making a long Cup run that at the beginning no one cared if they made, but at the end meant more than anyone could have realized at the start.

Sage took the responsibility of being holders seriously, even if in the grander scheme of things it still didn’t play a big part in the board’s thinking. Sage thought differently. He had watched his players during the final and saw how badly they wanted that moment of victory, even if it was for a diddy cup, as the Scots might say.

Non-league opposition Coagh United had been the opposition on that day, and Sage had hardly needed to remind his players what was at stake.

He hadn’t been like Sir Alex Ferguson, who famously told his team before the 1999 European Cup final against Bayern Munich that “the European Cup will be out there on display and you won’t even be able to touch it if we lose. Don’t you dare come back in this room without having given it your all.”

The Steel and Sons Cup was different. For one thing, it was smaller. So was the competition.

“You want to win something,” he had said. “That’s why we all play the game. It’s to be a part of something memorable and fun. But let me give you a hint: it’ll be a lot more fun tonight if you win. So give it your best and, win or lose, we’ll leave with our heads up.”

They had played at Windsor Park in Belfast that night, the home ground of Linfield, and won 5-2 after falling behind early. They had been methodical – amassing a remarkable 43 attempts at goal – and merciless, with 20 winding up on frame.

That was a group that gave everything, and Sage suspected a similar effort might be needed if Crusaders allowed any of their fringe players to get into a Cup tie.

“We won’t be the most skilled team out there regardless of who they play,” Sage mused to McCabe as the two planned out the match tactics.

“Then we have to work harder, you know that,” McCabe replied. “If they give us youngsters, we roll them. If they give us fringe players, we outwork them. No need to really change anything in my view.”

Sage nodded. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll try it your way.”

# # #

26 September 2020
Crusaders Reserves v Distillery | Steel and Sons Cup Fourth Round

Aiden McGarvey needed only six minutes to force Distillery into a new way of thinking. The Crusaders Reserves midfielder, anxious to show his stuff against the holders, rifled a shot high into Roy McComb’s goal to cap off a mazy run that certainly accomplished his intent.

Sage had started the sixteen-year-old reserves keeper to give him a chance in a competition that didn’t matter much to the suits at the club but still brought about something approaching a big-match atmosphere.

And, McGarvey, another sixteen-year-old, had just schooled him.

Sage watched McComb’s reaction to conceding. He saw the keeper kick the ball out of his goal back toward the center circle with the usual disgust of someone who thinks he should have done better, but then he got a quick drink of water from his bottle and got back to his business.

Sage liked that. No recriminations, no shouting, no tantrum. Just a  “let’s get on with it” approach.

Crusaders’ first team sat this one out, obviously, but there were fringe players and a few hot prospects in their team who all needed playing time and a Cup setting was even better for them.

It was a reasonably strong side but as the first half wore on it became apparent that there was inexperience in certain key positions on the park.

One of those was the central defenders. Aiden Harris and Allen Brown’s combined ages didn’t equal Sage’s, so when Daire Rooney darted between them just before the half neither one moved until it was too late. Finally, Brown reacted and bundled Rooney over for a penalty which the striker converted two minutes before halftime.

“Not bad,” Sage said at the break. “If we push them, they’ll crack. Their central defenders look like they’ve never seen each other before, much less played together, so let’s get among them and find another goal.”

But the beauty of halftime is that both teams get to make adjustments, and Crusaders’ back line looked a lot steadier as the second half commenced.

The flow was good, the passing good, and each team spurned good chances in the second half, which saw McComb redeem himself by tipping substitute Stephen Craig’s drive around the post in the 80^th minute to preserve a 1-1 draw that saw extra time looming large.

Sage had made a double substitution a few minutes before but had one remaining as the match ticked over into added time that the Whites’ boss really didn’t want to see due to other pending fixtures. Crusaders had used all theirs, however, so as the extra time kicked off Sage had the chance to put fresh legs in one more spot on the pitch.

His mind was made up for him two minutes before the extra-time break. Distillery had earned a set piece about forty yards from goal on the right, which Doyle took. It was a lovely ball, which headed toward the left side of Distillery’s forward line. Nick Beta was first to the ball and headed into the ground and home in 103 minutes to put Distillery ahead.

Waving frantically now for Elliott Rea, Sage bolstered his midfield for the remaining 15 minutes of play.

“Settle in tight as a tick now, and find a spot to counter if you can,” he instructed.

They did, and though they didn’t score again, they had fresher legs at the end when it mattered the most.

Crusaders Reserves 1-2 Distillery aet
Rooney pen 43; Beta 103

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

There was a lot to be happy about at that moment. Winning away to Crusaders, even if it was to their reserves, was still something that should have lifted spirits.

There was even a full week of down time between that match and the next in the Championship, away to Carrick. A solidly mid-table side, it looked as though Taylor’s Avenue might be a good spot to swipe three points if the team played even a fraction as well as it had in Belfast.

The mood of the squad was very good, and it helped matters that Sage gave the players three full days off to recover from the Crusaders match.

“Everyone needs a little down time,” he had said before canceling Monday’s training. “We had a lot of players work very hard last weekend and you deserve the chance to enjoy your win. Be back here Wednesday, nobody get hurt or arrested, and enjoy your time.”

He had said that last with a smile on his face, but he had seen stranger things happen in football. He didn’t want to take any chances.

That Wednesday night, he had the opportunity to watch Kylie’s team play. They had been scheduled for two games in Belfast and since he couldn’t make the Saturday tilt for obvious reasons, he watched the Northern Irish young ladies in their matchup against Wales u-18s.

There might have been 50 people in the stands, which was unfortunate from the point of view of those who follow the women’s game, but as Sage watched, the first thing he noticed was how well-organized Kylie’s team was.

They defended well, even if they didn’t have outstanding ability. They moved as a unit, and worked an offside trap to perfection three times in the first half.

However, it was also obvious that they had very little in terms of attacking presence. That was harder on Kylie, who would put her hands on her hips when a chance was missed in front of goal and try not to look disappointed.

The teams reached half goalless and Sage wondered what Kylie would tell her team. The art of the team talk was something they had explored together in UEFA classes and Sage himself had been told he was pretty good at them.

He sent good vibes Kylie’s way and went to get a snack while the teams went through halftime.

He returned to see the Welsh storming right up Route One to score almost immediately after the second half kickoff. That wonderful defense had been caught entirely flat-footed, and the offside trap was beaten over the top.

Sage exhaled hard, as he imagined his friend would have been doing on the bench, and squirmed in his seat wondering how the home team would respond.

Unfortunately, the answer was “not very well”. They conceded again on the hour and walked off the park 2-0 losers but with a scoreline that probably flattered the Welsh a bit.

Sage waited outside the stadium entrance for Kylie to appear, which she did about half an hour after the game.

“Hi, I didn’t know you were here,” she said with her ever-ready smile.

“Some surprises are best unwrapped after the party,” he answered. “I’m sorry about the result.”

“So am I,” Kylie answered. “I thought tonight might be the night and for the first half I thought we were at least as good as they were.”

“You were,” Sage said. “How about we talk about the rest over a drink?”

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

3 October 2020
Carrick Rangers v Distillery | Bluefin Sport Championship Round 8

Sage didn’t like the way things had been going either for Kylie in general or for Distillery in the league. The team arrived at Taylor’s Avenue confident and ready to reassert their surprising run.

There was a fair bit of confidence in the team and Sage liked their look during the warmup. After the win at Crusaders Reserves, there was every reason to believe normal service would be restored.

Then, the match started.

The first thing Sage noticed was that the players’ high levels of energy were being applied in the wrong way. It led to a truly annoying tendency for his players to wind up in referee Alan Hayes’ book – three in the first half hour alone.

“I never thought I’d have to tell players to turn it down,” Sage scowled, but McCabe was equal to his boss’ frustration.

“Things will even out, you wait and see,” he said.

That was precious little comfort.

The first half seemed to drag right along with Sage’s team and only whiz kid goalkeeper Connor Friel was worthy of praise as the teams headed to the break in a near-completely turgid goalless draw.

“Lads, wake up,” Sage urged as the players took their seats in the changing room. “They’re sitting back waiting for you with a deep line and it’s like you’re just out for exercise. Who wants to step up?”

Aaron Harris decided it would be him, and since he was the captain, he was the player Sage wanted to hear, with the only acceptable answer he could give. A brief tactical discussion followed and the players were allowed to rest up for the second half. Though they had been poor in attack, Carrick hadn’t been much better and there was really no need to tear into the team.

Once the second half started, the Distillery players showed a little more energy but less application. They ran hard, they moved off the ball, but their passing suggested a team that looked very much like the part-timers they were.

It was never going to be anything but a draw, and a snore draw at that.

Carrick 0-0 Distillery

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

“That isn’t what we’re after,” Sage said as he and McCabe got onto the hired coach for the trip home. Ahead of them, a group of sullen players had already boarded and none of them were happy about their performance.

“I would have thought they would respond better after the cup tie,” McCabe admitted. “But let’s look at the bright side, a draw away is usually a good result and we’re still top of the table.”

“Both of those things are true,” Sage replied. But if we’re to get where we want to go, we need to make a few changes.”

With that, he texted chairman Jim Greer.

# # #

“And how would we do that, exactly?”

Jim Greer’s face was kind the tone of his questioning was somewhat more strident.

“I think it’s something we need to consider,” Sage said.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Greer said. “How does this club, in its current state, justify full-time status?”

“It’s a question of ambition for me,” Sage finally said. “Other clubs have gone to the fans to help in these types of things. I understand the board are not in a position to bankroll something like this but a community effort might be what we need.”

“Sage,” Greer said, more kindly this time, “look at our attendance figures. We’re topping the table and we’re lucky to get 500 fans for a home match. It would cost substantially more money than those fans could give us to go full time. The only way we could even consider it is if you got us to the Premier and kept us there.”

Greer zeroed in. “Look at Crusaders,” he said. “One of the biggest clubs in the country, it nearly went bust at the mere prospect of relegation. When it actually happened, they almost didn’t survive. They raised six hundred thousand quid from their fans. Do you think we can do anything like that?”

Sage started to speak but quickly realized that doing so would only violate the First Law of Holes (when you are in one, stop digging).

“It’s frustrating,” he finally said. “I see what these players can become, and it’s hard not to be able to give them the work and the coaching they need.”

“I know it’s hard,” Greer replied. “But you’re going to have to do this the modern way, which is to say, you have to play the hand you are dealt. No one here will think any less of you if we don’t carry all before us, but we have to think of the club first.”

“I thought I was,” Sage mumbled as he walked back to his car.

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

“How did it go over?” Kylie asked over dinner.

“Like the pregnant high-jumper,” Sage replied, a scowl on his face.

She giggled in spite of herself. “You aren’t the first manager to run into a lack of ambition,” she answered, “and you will not be the last.”

“I get that,” he responded, “but still, it’s annoying. We’re up by four points in the league now but we could be doing so much better than we are.”

“What, Sage, you could have thirty points from eight matches?” Now, she was teasing him.

“We could be better prepared. We could execute better if we had more time to train.”

“Who else in the league is full-time?” she asked.

“Well …nobody. We could be the first.”

“I’ll tell you something,” she finally said. “There are only three full-time clubs in Northern Ireland. Crusaders, Linfield and Larne. That’s it. “If you think Distillery is going to join them, you’ve probably got more thinking to do.”

Deep down, he knew she was right. Of course she was right. Kylie was always right.

“Don’t rub it in,” he finally said, finishing his meal and going to the sitting room to relax and watch television.

“I never would,” she said with a smile, joining him for a movie after dinner.

# # #

[dtown1414]

I'm following. Enjoy the story!!

[gavrenwick]

Finally had chance to go back through this. I love your writing (and you know I always have), it just reads so easily. 

[tenthreeleader]

Gav!  We're alive! Great to see you online (and nice to be here myself!)

dtown, thanks for following along. I hope to make it worth your while.

___

10 October 2020
Distillery v Queens University | Bluefin Sport Championship Round 9

Maybe home cooking would help, Sage thought, reminiscing both about his time with Kylie, who was now back in Belfast, and the thought of playing before the dozens of fans who would line the railings at New Grosvenor Stadium for this day’s game.

That was just about how it worked out, too. Greer had been right – only 193 supporters showed up on a blustery early October afternoon to see the table-toppers take on the mid-table Queens.

Sage didn’t often speak to the players as he did before that match. “I’m expecting to see better from you today,” he said. “At this level it’s all about who wants it more and we didn’t want it enough last week. Now, we’re playing again on Wednesday so there will be plenty of opportunity for all of you to make your statements on how you want to react. I’ll be watching.”

But this time, they had an ace up their sleeve. Conor McCloskey, released by Glenavon but much coveted at the Championship level, had signed for Distillery the day after the disappointment at Carrick, and to make a statement, Sage put him straight into the starting eleven with only one training session under his belt.

The fact that he opened the scoring nineteen minutes into the match after an enthralling, mazy run around and through the Queens defenders only served to prove Sage’s point.

The faithful showed their appreciation by making noise beyond their numbers, which was nice for the new man to see, but there still weren’t enough fans in the ground to make them stand two-deep along the fencing. That was disappointing.

The lead looked good right up until halftime, when veteran Chris Turner stabbed home from the six-yard box when the Whites couldn’t clear their lines in first-half added time.

It ruined Sage’s good mood, and again, he wasn’t afraid to let his players know it.

“Here we are again, right where we were last week, in a drawn game at half time,” he said. “Decide for yourselves how we’re going to end up this week. I’m still watching, whatever you decide.”

With that, though, he did tinker with the tactics, unlike he had done the previous week. He raised the defensive line and said he wanted more pressure forward. Playing at home would make it easier for them to do that, he reckoned, and as the second half began he anxiously awaited the result.

There really wasn’t any, which was galling. For the first twenty minutes of the second half Distillery looked full of fight but didn’t throw any punches.

“Sometimes they look like eleven drunks in a revolving door,” Sage said matter-of-factly to McCabe, without a hint of anger. “I want to see if they can figure this out.”

It took Harris, who said he was going to sort it last week but didn’t, to make the breakthrough. Even if it was a week late, it was welcome, his tidy finish on 72 minutes on a loose ball in the penalty area giving the home team a 2-1 advantage. He did it again five minutes later, this time on a set piece from 25 yards that was a candidate for goal of the season. The captain had stood up, and the Whites looked to be home and dry.

But former Ards and Linfield man Jonah Mitchell made everyone nervous four minutes from time when he caught Jameson and Doyle ball watching and headed home to make it 3-2.

Sage sat on the bench, aware he was being watched, and in reply he simply got to his feet and clapped his hands a few times. “Come on lads, see it out,” he urged. “Want to win. Want to win.”

And they did.

Distillery 3-2 Queens University Belfast
McCloskey 19; Harris 72, 77

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

12 October 2020
Harland and Wolff Welders v Distillery | Bluefin Sport Championship Round 10

H&W Welders were struggling, in ninth place in the ten-team Championship. And with the match just 72 hours after the Whites’ win over Queens, Sage thought it was an ideal time to test his team’s killer instinct.

While warming up, Sage absently watched the planes coming and going from George Best City Airport, located just across the A55 from the ground, which held 3000 and would house about 2800 fans dressed as empty seats on this day.

Sage, as promised, rotated the team. Harris, due to his impressive display against Queens, kept his place but just about everyone else save for keeper Jonah Nicholl was either out of the XI or in a different position.

It was an unusual chance for a table-topping team to take but the manager meant what he had said. everyone was going to get their chance to make an impact, their statement, on the team’s fate.

From the beginning, Distillery pressured the goal and created chances. They had nearly sixty percent of the possession in the first half and sixteen attempts at goal.

Yet despite it all, the teams were deadlocked at the break. McIlmail had opened the scoring with a peach of a goal in the 22^nd minute, a cheeky chip of keeper Paul Wells, who tried to cut down the angle on a quick break and paid the price for it.

But Ross Arthurs, who had made his name in seven seasons with Ards before coming to Welders, had the game level fourteen minutes later, finishing perfectly off defender Matthew Henry’s inch-perfect cross from deep.

But Distillery had had much the better of the play despite Arthurs’ moment of brilliance, so as Sage approached his team talk he had a choice to make.

He chose to be gentle. “You’re the better team here, that’s what you’re showing me,” he said. “Now sort out this draw and let’s go home winners.”

It took a little bit of time, but that’s just what they did. They kept up the pressure as they had in the first half, winding up with a total of thirty shots at goal and twelve on target, but Ryan Berry’s belter from the top of the area four minutes after the restart gave the Whites the lead back and this time they took better care of it.

No letup this time. No sitting back and letting the game come to them. Johnny McCaw, whose position was under threat from McCloskey’s arrival, showed he was still up for it by scoring just after the hour, equaling the contribution of the new man the weekend before, and McIlmail finished things off two minutes from time with a fourth goal that hardly flattered Distillery in the final score.

Yet, as the team prepared to return home, some of the worst news of the season arrived. Daire Rooney, who had had to come off with a knock in the 63^rd minute, turned out to have a sprained ankle that was going to keep one of the team’s primary strikers out of action for at least a month.

As the team headed home, Sage mused about his striker options. The fans loved Nick Beta, but he was third choice to Sage for a reason. Waide could be a striker, and that was where Sage wanted to play him, but he had done at least as well on the wing and probably better. The options dropped off sharply after those two.

H&W Welders 1-4 Distillery
McIlmail 22, 88; Berry, 49; McCaw 61

# # #

[bergtaur]

Ten-Three, as already mentioned, you read so easy in your writing. Will continue to follow.

[tenthreeleader]

Thanks so much! Glad to have you along!

___

Kylie had called and asked if she could come over. That was alarming in itself. She never did that.

But when Sage opened the door to his flat to let her in, the stricken expression on her face was both obvious to see and concerning to look at, all at the same time.

“Sage, they sacked me,” she said, and his jaw dropped.

“They what?”

“Aye, they did,” she said. “They’re bringing in a new coaching team and I was made redundant.”

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” Sage said, giving his friend a hug.

She slumped against his chest and sighed. “They were heading in the right direction,” she said. “We hadn’t won yet, of course, but they were learning and improving. Isn’t that what you want at that level?”

“It’s what you want at every level,” Sage answered, “and anybody could see what you were doing was working. It was only a matter of time.”

“Which I ran out of,” she sighed. “They brought in some foreign coach and she had her own backroom team. So, we get swept out the door, all of us.”

It was one of the most unpleasant things about football. People talk about how change affects players but obviously it affects staff too, and it isn’t always pretty.

“What are you going to do?” Sage asked, as they sat on the couch.

“Well, I thought I’d see if you would want to order some food and we could talk about it,” she said, just the hint of a smile crossing her face.

Sage could have slapped himself for being so silly. “Of course,” he said. “I just didn’t…”

“Nobody expects to find someone at their door telling them they just lost their job,” Kylie answered. “Really, it’s all right.”

Sage picked up the phone and ordered Chinese food for delivery, turned on the television set and made sure there was nothing on that was even remotely related to football.

They sat in silence for a long time, even after the food had arrived and they had eaten it. Sage was leaving Kylie to her thoughts for the time being, deciding that discretion, as they say, was the better part of valor.

Finally, it was getting dark, and they still hadn’t spoken. Sage looked over at her.

“What do you suppose you’ll do?” he finally asked, and when he spoke, his voice was a comparative thunderclap against the still silence of the room.

“No idea,” she said. “There is probably a women’s football team somewhere in this country that could use a UEFA-licensed coach.”

“I would think so,” Sage finally agreed. 

He didn’t get the brilliant flash very often, but sometimes Sage did, and now was one of those times.

“Or a men’s team,” he finally said. “One without much ambition but which wants to win and needs someone competent in the art of defending to get some home truths through to the players. Preferably UEFA-licensed.”

She looked at him, dumbfounded.

“Really?” she asked.

“Would I lie to you?” he answered.

“I don’t know yet,” she teased, and even Sage had to laugh at her disarming dry humor.

“I have slack in the staff budget and Jim Greer says I can do what I need to do within reason. What do you say?”

“Coach at Lisburn Distillery?” Kylie sat back on Sage’s couch and thought it over.

“What the hell?” she finally asked. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Greer’s reaction was, at first, incredulous. It was then followed by acceptance and finally, with a thought that his manager had really had a good idea.

So it was that after the Welders match, Sage brought Kylie on board as an official member of the coaching staff. Her brief was defending, as he had promised, which let him introduce the new addition to the squad as it prepared to face Crumlin in the Steel and Sons Cup.

It was a good opportunity to break in a new coach while preparing to play a match the board didn’t care was won or lost, even though Distillery were holders.

The team for that match would be made up mostly of reserves, so Kylie got more time to work with the first team players as a result. To their credit, the players received her well, especially when she showed she knew what she was about, which didn’t take long.

In response to the inevitable questions, Ryan Berry answered for the team. “I don’t care if she’s a woman, what I care about is learning and getting better,” he said. “I’ll let myself be coached by anybody if it makes me better.”

The players seemed energized by the addition of a coach as well, which helped with the “low ambition” side of things just a bit. Sage was sated, Kylie had a job, and Distillery would improve.

It took McCabe, though, to put his finger on the biggest weakness in the new plan, at least from his point of view.

“Can’t dip your pen in the company inkwell,” he joked, for the first and only time in Kylie’s earshot. It was an old phrase, but one quite insulting to Kylie. McCabe had tried to be funny and had truly failed.

Kylie’s look of hurt, quickly masked by an expression of true annoyance, said what needed to be said. McCabe’s apology came almost as soon as his mouth had closed.

Sage glared at his deputy. “I didn’t know you cared,” he said, as McCabe began to stammer.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

“There’s no good way you could possibly have meant it,” Sage replied.

“I apologize to both of you,” McCabe immediately replied.

“Let’s draw a line under it,” said Kylie, the voice of reason.

Sage wanted to say something more, but decided not to since the wronged person in this case had already made her feelings plain. As a result, McCabe was minding his p’s and q’s prior to the cup tie.

17 October 2020
Distillery v Crumlin Utd – Steel & Sons Cup Quarterfinal

The visitors had parked the bus. Midway through the first half, a small crowd at New Grosvenor Stadium was starting to show its impatience.

The non-league opposition was standing up to their hosts, with goalkeeper Jake Nelson struggling mightily to help keep his club in the match. Distillery could move the ball just about anywhere it wished, provided they didn’t wish to get inside the penalty area.

Attempts flashed high, wide, and occasionally on frame, challenging Nelson every so often but never really concerning him.

Still seemingly unwanted by the rest of the league but who routinely punched above his weight for Sage when called upon, smashed a 25-yard rocket past Nelson and home in twenty-six minutes to put Distillery in front.

After that, things loosened up a bit and cup specialist Nick Beta doubled the advantage eight minutes before the break. Crumlin didn’t look anything like scoring, which pleased Sage and Kylie but which should have been expected in any event.

Sage’s goal was a clean sheet, and an end to the kinds of mental lapses that had sullied previous games. To contend for promotion, Distillery would have to do better in defense and as a result, he was watching the back line of Jack White, Jameson, Joe Reid and Berry like hawks to see how they reacted to their new mentor.

The answer was, “just fine, thanks very much.” And along the way, Beta and Ryan Waide, restored to his preferred position leading the line, scored three minutes apart in the second half to make the quarter-final tie a very comfortable win indeed.

The crowd, sated, melted into the night.

Distillery 4-0 Crumlin Utd
Ferris 26; Beta 41, 75; Waide 78

# # #

[mark wilson27]

Forms looking bang on sir... 

[tenthreeleader]

The thing about form, as you well know, is that it changes.

___

 

Next up for the Whites was a head-to-head matchup against a chief rival for promotion. Ards had gone down from the Premier League the season before and was trying to get back up at the first time of asking. They were going to be a handful, but they were four points behind Sage’s Distillery as the week began.

But they were infinitely more dangerous than toothless Crumlin, that much was certain. So there was a distinct atmosphere at training during the week – every other day, mind you, but still distinct.

The players responded well both to Sage and to Kylie, and even to McCabe, who had wound up back in the manager’s good books after a letter-perfect week with the team.

Now the three of them would meet after each training session to compare notes, work on the match plan and share observations about how individuals had done.

Kylie quickly showed she was at least as good as McCabe at making these observations, which made Sage’s deputy work even harder to maintain his place in the pecking order. That was good for everyone except McCabe, though if he minded he wasn’t about to show it.

She was doing well, Sage remarked to himself as he watched her lead defensive portion of training on the Wednesday. “She’s got the same UEFA badge you do, you numpty,” Sage said to himself, nearly loud enough to be heard.

Warren Feeney had said all the wrong things in the buildup to the match, at least from Sage’s point of view. He had a good side and he knew it. The fact that he wasn’t afraid to say so in public frosted the Whites boss a bit.

“At home, this is a match where I see us doing well,” Feeney had told the press to start the mind games. “We’re coming into shape nicely now, and I think we’ll do just fine with the backing of our fans.”

Sage had just smiled. “Spoken like a man who’s four points off the top,” he had cracked to Kylie after reading Feeney’s comments. “I think we can keep him there.”

Sage’s team paced the Championship by four points so Ards had to come to them in terms of carrying the play.

The worst of it was … they did.

20 October 2020
Ards v Distillery – Bluefin Sport Championship Round 11

Ards came out like they were swinging the hammers of hell, and quickly bent the shape of Sage’s flat back four into something bearing closer resemblance to a U-shape. Their plan was direct and it was brutal. Try to bull their way through to the goal and score by brawn rather than by brains.

It took about ten minutes, with Nicholl making a pair of strong saves in the meantime, to convince Sage that his idea of trying to match up head-to-head with Ards might not have been the best idea he ever had.

“We’ll have to ride this one out,” Sage said to McCabe, and ruefully, the assistant manager nodded. Kyle, on the opposite side of McCabe from Sage, was watching intently as her new defensive charges received a stern test from a team that was showing it wanted to go back to the top flight in the worst way.

Well, the worst looking way, in any event. They were about as subtle as a broken leg, and before five more minutes had passed, Sage had relayed new instructions to the team to try to absorb the pressure and hit Ards on the break.

That brought some color back into Kylie’s face, as she realized Sage had no intention of leaving her defenders hung out to dry.

Waide, playing up front, was coming back deeper than usual, effort which Sage appreciated, especially when Ballard stole the ball on the left and put a long, raking ball forward which found Waide in stride with the assistant’s flag down. Waide raced in and tucked a shot beyond Brian Neeson for a goal so against the run of play that it bordered on ridiculous.

Distillery had stolen the lead, to be blunt. And they held it until halftime, despite having only five attempts at goal to Ards’ fifteen.

Sage looked well satisfied as his team sat for the break and told them he was happy they had held the line. That accounted for much, and it meant Feeney’s team would have to chase the game.

They chased it, and hard, coming right back after the Whites after the second half kickoff. The onslaught resumed and the breakthrough was not long in coming. After only four minutes of the second half, Eoin Taggart beat Nicholl despite a packed in Distillery defense staring him in the face.

No problem. 1-1.

Kylie had a stricken expression on her face for a few seconds after Taggart’s equalizer, but McCabe, of all people, calmed her down.

“Bloody hell, they get paid too, just like we do,” he smiled. “They made a play. That’s not your fault.”

Kylie smiled at him and resumed her intent watch of the back line. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “I do appreciate that.”

Smelling blood in the water, Ards pushed forward again, and this time the opportunities to counter were fewer and farther between. Feeney had moved his team’s back line a few yards further back and that made beating them for pace all the more difficult. With Distillery on the back foot already, Feeney felt he could afford the luxury to prevent the counter-attack while still getting more than enough men forward to cause trouble for Nicholl.

But Kylie’s defensive counterscheme proved increasingly difficult to break down and before long Feeney, who clearly expected better from his team, was pacing the touchline like a caged lion while Sage sat in his seat, nonchalantly watching Ards beat their heads against a wall of white shirts and coming up empty.

Ards could have used a win, and they didn’t get one. Job one had been performed, even if it wasn’t pretty to look at.

Ards 1-1 Distillery
Waide 39

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

With the next match an Intermediate Cup tie with non-league East Belfast, Sage was expecting both to field a rotated squad and to pick up a clean sheet. The board hardly cared how the team did so it gave the manager a chance to blood some younger players while still holding the same expectations for success that he did with the first team.

In short, it was a good exercise, and telling young Connor Friel that he was about to get a cup start was fun as for the manager to say as it was for the player to hear. Only seventeen years old, it was a good opportunity for him, as Nicholl’s primary backup, to get some playing time that meant something to him even if it didn’t necessarily mean as much to the front office.

As importantly, the week would be short – only two days separated Ards from the East Belfast the and then it was right back to work for a mid-week trip to Newforge Lane for a tilt with PSNI.

Players like Joe Reid and Jack White would be on the back line. Cliftonville loanee Calvin McCurry, brought in as cover when Daire Rooney went down, was going to get a chance up front paired with the Cup-tie assassin Nick Beta.

There was some steel on the bench and people like Jude Ballard and Michael O’Hanlon were in the eleven to make sure nothing goofy happened. But it was going to be up to the squad players and the youngsters to perform.

24 October 2020
Distillery v East Belfast | Intermediate Cup First Round

It was hardly electric stuff, but the 200 or so fans who packed themselves into the 7,000-seat New Grosvenor Stadium seemed entertained enough.

Of those 200, about a quarter were traveling fans, which bemused Sage as he watched the beginning of some real one-way traffic at the start of the match. The Whites were doing to East Belfast what Ards had done to them, and from the point of view of a Distillery partisan, it was a lot more fun to watch.

It wasn’t exactly like watching Brazil – in fact, it wasn’t even close – but Distillery worked with a great deal of tenacity to try to break through the packed-in defense. Except for winger William Moore, who instead decided that the best way to play defense was to try to break O’Hanlon’s leg, which somehow only earned him a yellow card only six minutes into the match.

O’Hanlon was able to continue, so the manager’s red face was soon replaced by a calmer one as the half wore on.

“I’d say they’re parking the bus but it doesn’t look like they brought one,” McCabe wisecracked to Sage, who simply smiled in return. There was no pressure on his team, which was why after the minutes without a breakthrough started to mount, Sage’s thoughts began to turn to the reasons why.

The reserves continued to huff and puff but at half the match was still scoreless. The only coach who had anything to smile about was Kylie, whose back liners had done quite well for themselves, as expected. They looked tidy and organized so Sage decided to build off that in his talk.

“They aren’t going to score,” he declared. “We know that. So don’t let that concern you. I just want one of you to out there and show me why someone else should play in the next round instead of you.” He turned to leave, but then paused and turned back.

“In a good way,” he smiled, and loosened up his squad in so doing.

The second half was more of the same, with the traffic almost entirely one-way right up until the moment of decision, when someone would make a mistake or the ball would bounce the wrong way before a finish could be applied.

“Why is the bad bounce always the last one?” Sage asked to no one in particular after O’Hanlon fluffed his lines from about ten feet in front of the goal early in the second half. He sat back in his seat, buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes hard.

“Careful, you’ll hurt yourself,” Kylie teased from her spot next to McCabe. “It’s going fine, Sage, you’ll see.”

The manager thought so too but chose not to say anything. His patience was finally rewarded when Calvin McCurry poked home from a scramble in front of goal just before the hour mark. Keeper Wayne Drummond was down and out of the play and the loanee was on target.

Sage then sat back to watch the last half hour of what he was sure would be a long, hard slog. He was right, but it didn’t change anything.

Distillery 1-0 East Belfast
McCurry 59

# # #

[tenthreeleader]

Next up was PSNI at Newforge Lane.

With a rested first team, Sage had reason to be optimistic as his team made the short journey for the match.

The training schedule and preparation time had been reduced a bit since the team had played the previous Saturday, but Sage had tried to combat that by having as many players as possible preparing for the league match early while the squad players who had featured against East Belfast prepared separately and now recovered from their exertions.

However, this was one of those times where being a part-time team worked against Sage’s plans. With three days between matches, there just wasn’t time to get everyone ready in the way he would have liked having only one training session in the interim.

PSNI was in middling form, already nine points off Distillery’s pace in the league but showing signs of life in their previous few matches. The first hint of the fall chill was in the air, with a blustery but clear evening expected for the Tuesday match.

With the collar of his jacket turned up against the cold, Sage boarded the team coach, a relic from older, more successful days, and flopped into his seat opposite the driver. McCabe sat across from him, and Kylie directly behind McCabe.

“It would be great if I could sit with you,” she had teased as they left the car prior to boarding.

“It does seem a bit daft to ride to the match together and then sit across the coach from each other,” Sage admitted. “But you know how that would look.”

“How would it look?” she asked.

“Like I’m playing favorites,” he responded, and she laughed out loud.

“I’m the only woman on the coach,” she said. “Not difficult for you to play favorites there, is it?”

Sage blushed and motioned for her to precede him onto the bus. The driver shut the doors as the coaches were the last to board, and they headed off toward Newforge Lane.

27 October 2020
PSNI v Distillery | Bluefin Sport Championship Round 12

Sometimes, it just doesn’t pay to get out of bed.

Distillery started sluggishly against their hosts and paid for it within the first half hour. With the first team looking surprisingly dead-legged, the back line was ball-watching when Aiden McNiven ghosted onto a corner and scored from a shockingly easy set piece in 26 minutes.

Prior to that point, Distillery hadn’t really done much, pegged back to attempts from long range and seemingly unable to string three passes together. But they were all disappointed by the corner, or at least how easily the home team had been able to score from it.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Sage muttered.

“We’re deader than disco music,” McCabe mused.

As was becoming usual, it was Kylie who had the upbeat message. “Come on, there’s an hour to play still,” she said, standing up and heading to the touchline since Sage was still seated.

She did enjoy that part of coaching and Sage, a noted pacer himself, simply let her do it while he stewed in his seat. There were times that the manager needed to be the one out there with the team, but while he tried to figure out a course of action, she started to cajole the team.

They responded, which both pleased Sage and annoyed him at the same time. They hadn’t really listened to his pre-match message, but Kylie was lighting them up the backside and they were responding well. Suddenly, Distillery was getting forward with some purpose and a breakthrough looked inevitable.

The match ticked over into first-half added time and Sage was getting up to head to the rooms when Daniel White challenged McNiven right through his legs about fifteen yards from goal. The striker fell in a heap and referee Peter McGrath awarded the stonewall penalty along with a yellow for the defender.

Sage watched, his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, as McNiven converged the spot kick he had won, and PSNI headed to halftime two goals to the good.

As the team left the pitch, Sage thought to himself that nothing was really going to change in his team talk because of the goal. He wasn’t happy in any event and there was no changing his opinion based on things getting even worse.

He grabbed Harris by the shoulder as the captain jogged past. “Get them sorted after I leave,” he said simply, indicating what he wanted done, and how he wanted it done.

There are times when a manager’s yelling and shouting doesn’t do any good. There are also times when the team’s leaders need to step up and take charge. Distillery, after about a season and a half under Sage’s leadership, had become a tightly knit bunch of players. It was time to see if the players could do it themselves.

He addressed them briefly, telling them the obvious; the first half hadn’t been anywhere near good enough. He kept his composure, reminded the players what he expected of them, and then left.

Harris spoke up. “That was pathetic,” he said. Outside, Sage listened as the players warmed up to the captain’s words and smiled to himself.

Distillery came out very strongly and McIlmail got them going eight minutes after the restart with a mazy run finished by a nicely taken shot into the lower left corner of Ben McCauley’s goal.

And then, it was one-way traffic in the opposite direction. Distillery’s pace of play, overall outlook and general performance all went up after McIlmail’s goal so Sage sat back and watched his team find the inevitable equalizer.

Only it never came.

After another fifteen minutes of strong play, the Whites seemed to run out of steam. Harris’ exhortations from on the pitch, and Sage’s from off it, couldn’t save them from a first league defeat.

Yes, it had taken 12 games to lose, but with the setback, Distillery had won only two of its last five in the league. Something wasn’t right.

PSNI 2-1 Distillery
McIlmail 53

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