Pirates of the Northatlantic: The Rovers Return

[davidbr]

Saturday, 24th December 2005

“Laura, I can’t let you live in a place like that. Christ, the only thing it’s fit for is the rats, and I’m betting they’re already making up a f**king petition to get out.â€

“I’m not a charity case, Teddy. If you’re asking me because you feel sorry for me, then forget it.â€

Earlier on today I’d seen Laura’s bedsit for the first time, and, well, let’s just say I was shocked. I didn’t actually go in, mind you, just sat in the cab while she dashed in to pick up some spare clothes (she’s staying at the flat over Christmas) but that was more than enough.

It’s a bit hard to describe in words, but have you ever seen the film Independence Day? Well, in it there’s a scene where the aliens have just blown the crap out of Los Angeles, or wherever the hell it was, and Will Smith’s girlfriend emerges the morning after to a landscape of devastation? Picture that, and you’re not far wrong. Even the cabbie looked worried, the local scrotes would no doubt have nicked his wheels if he’d stayed there much longer!

Anyway, now it was evening, we were in Hogshead, and I’d just asked Laura to move in with me? But, like she said, why?

“I’m not asking you because I feel sorry for you, you daft cow. I’m asking you because I, well, because I love you! I love you, and I want you to be with me. Besides, we need someone to keep us messy bastards in check!â€

She smiled, and flung her arms around me; “In that case, the answer’s yes. I love you, Teddy Hamilton!!â€

Ratty, who was over at the bar getting another round in, gave me the thumbs up; he’d been pestering me to ask her for weeks now. I probably wouldn’t have done so right now if I hadn’t seen the state of that ****-hole she called home, but I was glad that I had. It was still a big step for me, but it was time to move on with my life once and for all; I couldn’t keep hankering back to the past, couldn’t keep wondering what might have been, couldn’t keep raging against the world.

That day I’d stood as a wide-eyed 21-year old at White Hart Lane in front of the cream of the London press, I couldn’t possibly have imagined that just a few years down the line I’d be battling to drag a rag-tag little club out of England’s bottom division by the balls. But, hey, **** happens, and for the first time in a very long while I began to look to the future with a guarded optimism.

And looking across at Laura, I knew she’d played a big part in that.

[davidbr]

Sunday, 25th December 2005

I’d never really been what you’d call a “Christmas personâ€, in fact if I had my way I’d go off to sleep at the end of November and not wake up again until January when it’s all over. But I couldn’t deny that we’d all had a great time today! We ate too much, drunk far too much, played a variety of increasingly stupid games and, for a while, club business was almost put to one side.

Ah yes, I did say almost; Fulham boss Chris Coleman didn’t just call to wish me festive cheer. They’re in the midst of an injury crisis down at Craven Cottage, some kind of viral epidemic apparently, and the upshot of it is that he needs Adam Green back in town for tomorrow’s clash with Middlesbrough. Green was only on a three-month loan deal anyway, and with Kipulo chomping at the bit to get back his regular starting place I’m not too worried by the whole situation.

Anyway, that was earlier in the day. Right now it was getting on for 1am, and it was just me and Laura left on the sofa, draining the dregs of our glasses.

“Aww, Teddy, look. It’s snowing!!â€

I went over to join her, and sure enough flakes of the white stuff were coming down thick and fast, and a good covering was already settling on the pavement below.

“Well, you always said you wanted a white Christmas, didn’t you, love? Merry Christmas, sweetheart!â€

That was our signal for bed. Thing was; would our game with Barnet survive the chill?

[davidbr]

Barnet boss Paul Fairclough and I stood outside the referee’s dressing room at Underhill, speechless and shaking our heads; we just couldn’t believe ref Nicholson was really going to allow this match to go ahead!!

The snow that’d started in the early hours had carried on through most of the night, and I’d awoken to a good few inches carpeting the streets of Bristol. Still, we were assured all was clear in London, and so come 10am the team coach had set off as normal.

Travelling down the M4 the snow did gradually vanish, it’s true, but temperatures were low enough to give an Eskimo frostbite, and when a quick stroll out on the Underhill pitch revealed conditions more suited to ice hockey than football, Fairclough was in full agreement; the 1pm pitch inspection would a mere formality. I’d even gone as far as to tell the lads not to bother getting changed. How wrong I was!!

We’d both argued with Nicholson until we were blue in the face but it was to no avail, and I was fuming as I made my way back to the away dressing room to break the bad news to the lads.

“Sorry, there’s nothing I can do; it’s going ahead! Now the conditions are just the same for them, right. It’s like an ice rink out there, so whatever happens try and stay on your feet; no rash tackles and nothing too fancy. Keep moving or else you’ll freeze solid, and remember the pitch is rock hard so the f**king thing’ll bounce like Zebedee. Oh, and be safe, yeah; try not to do anything stupid. Like break anything you’re gonna need!â€

I left Tony handing out the thermal gloves, pulled my sheepskin jacket tightly around me, and made my way to the dugout. It was going to be a long afternoon!

[davidbr]

Monday 26th December 2005

Barnet vs. Bristol Rovers, League Two from Underhill

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Scott Shearer (Jorg Stiel 45), Jean-Christophe Cesto, Kipulo, Ryan Hartslief, Steve Elliott, Sebastian Larsson, Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Francesco Milano

As I led the team out into the freezing London cold, the grass already crunching underfoot, a mental image of Gianluca Vialli shivering in a snowstorm against Tromso flickered into my head. It beggared belief that anyone could seriously consider playing football in this; bugger the result, all I cared about was that we came through it in one piece!

Still, the start we made was nothing if not professional. I guess that after playing most of his career at 9,000 feet in Quito, Franklin Salas is no stranger to adverse conditions, he looked very lively and it was the Ecuadorian who came closest in the opening quarter hour, forcing two fine saves from Barnet keeper Cole.

Dean West did his bit, Johannes Djourou swept up anything that came through the middle and poor Scott Shearer did his best to stop his boots freezing to the grass as we bossed the opening stages.

In the last minute of the half, the opening goal finally arrived, and it was no surprise that it was Salas who got it. Having swapped the warmth of Portugal for this crap, there must have been times Kipulo had questioned just where he’d gone wrong in life, but it was he who made it to the byline, and Barnet’s defence seemed to be dreaming of a nice warm dressing room as Salas drilled a free header past the helpless Cole for 1-0.

Half Time: Barnet 0, Bristol Rovers 1 (Salas 45)

Back in the dressing room I had nothing but praise for the way my players had acquitted themselves so far. Well, actually I did; I had whisky! Single malt too, but I felt they’d earned it - one shot each, though, we’d save the rest for if we won! Sadly even that wasn’t enough to revive Scott Shearer, he was frozen to the bone and so Jorg Stiel came on for the second half in his stead.

As darkness fell the temperature dropped still further, a few flakes of snow begun to fall and with the wind-chill thrown in all that was missing was the polar bears. Still the whisky seemed to have done the trick; Barnet did come more into things, and Grazioli up front had a couple of half chances, but we still looked much the more threatening and our second goal, when it came, was fully deserved. It couldn’t have been much simpler; Ryan Hartslief drove the ball long, Franklin Salas took it down and tried his luck from a good 40 yards out - Cole got hands to it, but could only watch as it squirmed agonisingly under his body and into the Barnet net. Still, on a day like this it’d be hard to attach too much blame to the youngster.

Giuliano Grazioli got one back for the Londoners five minutes later, after we were guilty of slack marking at a corner, and for a while the nerves began to return, but we made certain we’d be travelling back down the M4 with all three points when Francisco Milano latched onto Dean West’s through ball to drill a low shot down to Cole’s left.

It was a fine finish, yet another attack of “lategoalitis†(Grazioli reduced Barnet’s arrears with a stoppage time header) proved totally irrelevant, and while I was delighted with the win I was even more delighted that we’d come away largely unscathed from the worst conditions I’ve ever experienced as a player or a manager.

Full time: Barnet 2 (Grazioli 72, 90+3), Bristol Rovers 3 (Salas 45, 67, Milano 76)

[davidbr]

We didn’t hang around any longer than we had to at Underhill, but speeding back down the M4 in our (heated!) coach I handed out the glasses as we disposed of what remained of that bottle of Scotch. I couldn’t have asked any more from my players today, it’d been a very professional performance and we’d risen to the challenge far better than Barnet had. More to the point, we’d escaped without any losses on the injury front (Scott Shearer was fine after a spell in the warmth and shelter).

“OK, well done. I’m sure as you’ve guessed there’ll be no training tomorrow, about all we could do in this is frickin’ tobogganing anyway. Take it steady though; we’ve got Torquay on Wednesday night.â€

“Is it on then, gaffer?†That was Ryan Hartslief.

“Dunno yet, Ryan. Best I’ve heard is that there’ll be a pitch inspection tomorrow afternoon, then we’ll know. We’ve got no covers or anything though, so I’d say it’s 50/50 at best.â€

As soon as I mentioned the words “pitch inspection†a collective groan went up from around the coach! All, that is, except for Franklin Salas; he seemed to have relished the conditions out there today, and was still grinning like a clown on crack!

All those in the press who whinge on about foreign nancy-boys not being able to hack the English winter, well, I’d suggest they come down and have a word with Franklin!

[davidbr]

Tuesday, 27th December 2005

First thing this morning, I had a call from Paul Fairclough. Barnet have decided to make an official complaint to the FA about the fact yesterday’s match was passed fit for play, and he wanted to know whether I’d support him.

We might have won, but I assured Paul I’m right behind him on this one; it was a crazy decision, and it could so easily have ended in the kind of carnage that would have wrecked our title challenge.

Actually, “first thing†was a bit of an exaggeration! Why, you might ask? Well, I’d been up since 6am shovelling bloody snow off the Memorial Stadium pitch! The forecast for tomorrow didn’t look too bad, but the playing surface was still covered with two inches of the white stuff and if we wanted to pass today’s pitch inspection it had to be gone.

And we did, desperately, want the game to go ahead; we’re in form, we’re expecting a decent crowd, and I can do without the fixture congestion that a postponement would cause.

So, way before the sun had even peeked it’s lazy bastard head above the horizon, Ratty the chairman, me the manager, Tony and Paul, Laura, and even old Reg from reception, were out there with our wheelbarrows. I mean, it’s at times like this you just have to laugh at the absurdity of it all; can you imagine Jose Mourinho and Roman Abramovich hot-footing it down to Stamford Bridge with a shovel to shift away a snowdrift!!? “Football’s awash with money†- hmmm…

Anyway, it worked - we passed our pitch inspection, and for tomorrow it’s all systems go! I just hope, after all that effort, we don’t lose the f**king game…

[davidbr]

Wednesday, 28th December 2005

Bristol Rovers vs. Torquay, League Two from the Memorial Stadium

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Scott Shearer, Jean-Christophe Cesto, Kipulo, Ryan Hartslief, Steve Elliott, Sebastian Larsson, Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Francesco Milano (Gary Hamilton 86)

After our ordeal in the frozen wastes of London, I was pleased to see bright, if slightly chilly, sunshine at the Memorial Stadium to herald the visit of a Torquay side up to 5th in the table and unbeaten in their last four. Not that I felt we had anything to fear - apart from Bamba we were at full strength, and I wanted to put on a post-Christmas show for the Pirates faithful; we had a record crowd today, 9,788 had shrugged off their festive hangovers to cheer us on against the boys from the seaside!

The August game at Plainmoor had been one of the worst games of football I’d ever witnessed, but both keepers were tested in the opening minutes this time as first Alan Connell forced an excellent save out of Scott Shearer, then Dean West brought an even better stop from James Bittner with a rasping 25 yard drive.

Not long after Connell was forced off thanks to a collision with Johannes Djourou; Torquay were furious, but as far as I (and the referee) were concerned it was a fair 50/50 challenge, and Djourou doesn’t lose many of those! Anyhow, Torquay were forced into an early reshuffle, they switched to a 4-5-1 with Tony Bedeau as a lone striker, and with their attacking threat blunted we were able to slowly become more and more adventurous.

We probably should have been ahead at half time, Torquay’s Bittner might not be their usual first-choice stopper but he was in superb form here to keep out West (twice) and Salas as the half progressed. Unfortunately our best opening dropped to Jean-Christophe Cesto after a goalmouth scramble but nerves got the better of him as he blasted it into orbit from six yards, and it stayed all square at the break.

Half time: Bristol Rovers 0, Torquay 0

The visitors became more adventurous after the break, striker Leon Constantine was brought on as they reverted to the 4-4-2, but all that did was create space for West and Salas to work in through the middle and eventually we opened the door.

It all started with another no-nonsense tackle from Djourou, to dispossess Bedeau well inside our own half. He looked up quickly and saw Seb Larsson in space on the left, and Larsson squared the ball across to where Salas was waiting. Salas’ clever dummy fooled everyone, including the keeper, and he was hopelessly out of position as Dean West slammed the ball into the roof of the net from ten yards out.

Torquay had their chances, as did we, but that proved to be the only goal of the game. I gave the orders to ease off as full time came closer, the visitors didn’t have the flair to find a way through, and we had our second win in three days. Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

Full time: Bristol Rovers 1 (West 66), Torquay 0

[davidbr]

Saturday, December 31st 2005

“His record speaks for itself, he’s a player with a great deal of potential and I’m delighted to have been able to bring him to the Memorial Stadium. Of course he’s going to have to fight for his place, but time’s on his side and I’m sure he can be a big player for this club in seasons to come.â€

The last day of the year, and only one piece of club business to conclude; Eamonn Zayed officially signed on the dotted line this morning, and as soon as the transfer window opens at midnight tonight he’ll become part of the Bristol Rovers squad. We’d held what passed for a press conference, and I was surprised by just how much media interest there was; a couple of hacks had even winged their way across the Irish sea, Zayed’s evidently rated very highly in the Emerald Isle.

“What’s that, another one??â€

Laura had spotted me scowling at a newly retrieved message from the fax tray. Yup, we were still getting the threatening messages through. I can’t say it really bothered me that much, except for the fact it seemed obvious that this was personal; we were top of the table, and we were unbeaten in eight in the league, not even the most demanding fan could have cause to complain at that. Could they?

“Ah, sod it. I promised you that tonight we’d forget all about work, and that’s just what we’re going to do! Come on, the cab’s waiting; let’s get out of here!â€

Personally I think I’ve earned a celebration; off-field Laura moved the rest of her stuff into the flat yesterday and though it’s early days I’ve got a good feeling about things, and on the field Bristol Rovers will welcome in the New Year from the summit of the League Two table. And that’s not something anyone, apart from me, dared to hope possible at the start of the season. Of course, there’s a long way to go yet.

As for us, we waved goodbye to 2005 with an alcohol-soaked crawl through the clubs and bars of the city centre, fuelled in part by free drinks sent our way by grateful Pirates; it seems I’ve got no worries on the supporter satisfaction front. It was already a good few hours into 2006 by the time the three of us staggered back across town to the flat; Laura and me holding onto each other for support, Ratty bellowing out Auld Lang Syne and making half the words up as he went!

Happy New Year indeed!!

[davidbr]

Sunday 1st January 2006

New Years’ Day, 9am, and as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes it took a good few moments to realise that the buzzing sound filling my ears wasn’t merely a figment of my alcohol-sodden imagination. From beside me, a rather grumpy Laura shoved across the phone! Sleepily, I did my best to answer it…

“Teddy? Sorry to bother you so early, mate, but this won’t keep. Turn your laptop on, I’ve just sent you an e-mail.â€

Gary Smith had indeed, and it contained details of a Portuguese lad whom Gary had apparently been keeping tabs on for some time. Hugo Carolo was 21 and a striker, and though he was currently playing amateur football he had a full season in the Portuguese Second League with Alverca under his belt in which he’d earned three caps for Portugal Under-21’s!

“If you’re interested, mate, he’s yours, but there’s quite a few clubs sniffing around so I need an answer now!â€

“He looks good, Gary, but… how much??â€

“£20k, give or take. Seriously, mate, if you miss out on this one you’ll be kicking yourself.â€

It wasn’t exactly a position I was in desperate need of, especially since I’d just signed Eamonn Zayed. But with Gary Hamilton looking about as convincing as a presentation by the Crop Circle Society another talented forward sure wouldn’t go amiss. F**k it, why not?!

[davidbr]

Monday 2nd January 2006

Shrewsbury vs. Bristol Rovers, League Two from Gay Meadow

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Scott Shearer, Jean-Christophe Cesto, Ryan Hartslief, Steve Elliott, Sebastian Larsson (Jeroen van Staveren 58), Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Francesco Milano

With, thankfully, no new injury worries our first team of the New Year was the same as our last team of the old, so Jeroen van Staveren had to be content once more with a place on the substitutes’ bench. On a good run of form and against a Shrews side without a win in four I’d have said I was pretty confident we could come here and do the business, but the start we made was more than I’d dared even dream about.

Just three minutes in, and with our very first attack, we had the lead! It was nothing special really, a long pass from Cesto caught the home defence napping, that released Mark Worthington down the right, he swung in a wicked cross and there in acres of space was Francesco Milano to slam home his first goal of 2006. That lead, though, lasted a mere five minutes, and it was just as I’d feared; a c**k-up of mine coming back to haunt me.

Ryan Williams’ free transfer move to the Shrews had only gone through yesterday, and in my haste to get him off our wage bill I’d neglected to include a clause that would have stopped him from playing in this match. So, you can guess who scored their equaliser, can’t you? Yup, Ryan sodding Williams!

It was a well-taken goal too, a half-volley from just inside the area, but I couldn’t have cared less about the aesthetic beauty - I was cursing my stupidity. Still, they say in this job you learn from experience…

The rest of the half didn’t live up to its frantic start. Dean West missed a half-chance for us, Nathan Blake (yes, that one, the former Wales international!) did likewise for the Shrews, and as the referee called time on the first 45 the scores were all square.

Half time: Shrewsbury 1 (Williams 8), Bristol Rovers 1 (Milano 3)

[davidbr]

Those scores didn’t stay level for long after the restart, thanks to a moment of magic that would have graced any stage in the world. Franklin Salas combined well with Dean West to carve a massive gap in the centre of the Shrews midfield, but Salas’ pass in the direction of Milano was unusually poor and it should have been an easy clearance for defender Gavin Cowan.

He could only slice it out as far as Johannes Djourou, though, and his team would live to regret that as my Swiss midfielder set his sights and crashed a wonderful strike past the helpless Joe Hart from almost forty yards out! Gay Meadow just stood in stunned silence - it was, indeed, a very special strike.

Not long afterwards Mark Worthington and Dean West both spurned gilt-edged chances to make it 3-1, and this time it’d be us who’d live to regret events. He’d done very little so far, but I’d been in a few Wales sides with Nathan Blake and so I knew what he was capable of, even at the age of 34. I’d devoted a fair part of the team-talk to the importance of stopping him - but I think Steve Elliott must have nodded off for that part.

For five minutes past the hour the Shrews won a corner, Ryan Williams (yes, that man again!) swung the ball in and Elliott completely lost his position as Blake powered a free header past the helpless Shearer. His fellow defenders were almost as angry at Elliott for that mistake as I was; how I long for the return of Souleymane Bamba!

For the rest of the second half neither side managed to carve out a chance worthy of its name, so 2-2 was how we wrapped things up. I guess looking at the bigger picture a draw here wasn’t a total disaster, but I couldn’t help looking on this as two points dropped. We’re still top, but we should have won here today. Oh, and guess who won man of the match - Ryan feckin’ Williams!

Full time: Shrewsbury 2 (Williams 8, Blake 65), Bristol Rovers 2 (Milano 3, Djourou 48)

[davidbr]

Back in the away dressing room, I lashed out at the wall in disgust - not so much at our performance, but at my own bloody stupidity in allowing Ryan Williams to play! As I wrung my hand in pain, my assistant Tony came across with a few consoling words.

“Look, don’t beat yourself up about it - I mean, it’s hardly as if he showed anything with us to suggest he could play like that, was it? Think on it as a point gained, and a grand and a half of dead wood off our wage bill.â€

As I’ve said before, Tony was a born optimist, always able to find the bright side of any situation. If NASA were to announce the impending arrival of Armageddon, Tony would be there to remind you of the savings you’d be making on your tax bill! Still, this time his advice was sound and I decided to follow it; we hadn’t lost, we were still clear at the top of League Two, and in around 48 hours time we had the perfect chance to make amends.

The journey back was long and tiring (though made slightly more bearable thanks to the hip-flask of Jack Daniels I’d secreted inside my jacket pocket!) and it was almost 11pm by the time our coach made it back to Bristol City Centre. Ideally I’d have given the lads the day off training, but with the games coming thick and fast that wasn’t really an option. But, back in the flat, after Laura and I had polished off the best part of a bottle of vodka between us, one thing was clear; Tony and Paul would be taking the lead in tomorrow’s session!

[davidbr]

Wednesday 4th January 2006

Bristol Rovers vs. Darlington, League Two from the Memorial Stadium

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Scott Shearer (Jorg Stiel 39), Jean-Christophe Cesto (Steve Elliott 39), Kipulo, Ryan Hartslief, Souleymane Bamba, Stuart Fergus, Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Francesco Milano (Eamonn Zayed 61)

After Darlington had already beaten us in the league and the FA Cup this season, this one was becoming more than a bit personal! So, with that in mind, I’d made a last minute decision to gamble on Souleymane Bamba’s fitness, and I’d also chosen Stuart Fergus as the replacement for the injured Larsson in a move that’d no doubt surprise many observers - van Staveren once again kept the bench warm.

It was Darlington who struck oil first, though, and we only had ourselves to blame. 17 minutes in left-back David Duke punted a hopeful upfield ball for Simon Johnson to chase, but since Jean-Christophe Cesto would have had time to complete the Times crossword and still make the clearance I wasn’t especially worried. I was bloody panic-stricken, though, when Cesto completely misjudged the bounce of the ball, allowed the former Leeds man a free run on goal and Johnson planted a composed finish past Scott Shearer’s outstretched right arm. What the hell was Cesto thinking!?

For all our defensive frailties, though, in the final third Franklin Salas was being his typically brilliant self and within four minutes of that goal my Ecuadorian maestro had us level. Johannes Djourou started it all off with a crunching tackle in midfield on Oliver Heald, Dean West found Salas lurking in space twenty yards out and Salas found the bottom corner of the home side’s net with a powerful low drive that fizzed off the damp turf.

That was that for first half goal action, but Cesto still looked mighty vulnerable down that right flank and so when a nasty collision forced a premature end to Scott Shearer’s afternoon in the closing minutes of the half I decided to go the whole hog and make a double change - Stiel between the sticks, Steve Elliott on for Cesto in the centre of defence, and Bamba would move out to right-back. Let’s see if that’ll make us look a bit more solid.

Half time: Bristol Rovers 1 (Salas 21), Darlington 1 (Johnson 17)

The change did indeed give our defence a more assured feel, and Salas and West were still giving the Darlington back line a torrid time, but we just weren’t able to find that killer ball. Francesco Milano was unusually quiet, and so on the hour I decided it was time for my last throw of the substitute dice - Eamonn Zayed had only been in Bristol five days, but he was about to make his club debut. And it worked, though not at once.

With four minutes left on the clock, and having already signalled for us to go for broke, Johannes Djourou picked up the ball on the edge of our own area and launched it rather aimlessly into the mix. Substitute Zayed climbed highest for the flick-on, and suddenly Franklin Salas was in the clear! Defender Matthew Clarke scampered frantically back, but it was all in vain as Salas coolly lifted the ball over the onrushing Davy O’Hare and into the back of the Darlington net. All around the ground the Pirates fans went wild - surely they were about to witness a home win? Actually, no.

This habit of ours of conceding late goals is no longer merely annoying; it’s season threatening. In the second minute of stoppage time Darlington won a corner, and I ordered everyone back to defend. James Beaumont swung it in, somehow (despite the fact we had ten Pirate shirts in there) captain Matthew Clarke found himself unmarked, and Clarke couldn’t believe his luck as his free header looped over the stranded Jorg Stiel and in for a heartbreaking equaliser. I lashed out at a drinks bottle in disgust, earning me a warning from the fourth official in the process, but it barely even registered - I couldn’t believe all our hard work had been in vain.

Full time: Bristol Rovers 2 (Salas 21, 86), Darlington 2 (Johnson 17, Clarke 90+2)

[davidbr]

Friday 6th January 2006

“Right, I’m f**king waiting. Perhaps you’d like to explain to me, after your last two p**s-poor performances, exactly what you felt you had the right to celebrate??â€

Standing in front of me was Jean-Christophe Cesto, and as you’d have no doubt guessed he wasn’t there to pick up a medal. Tony had just collected him from Frenchay Hospital, where he’d spent the night in A&E after being discovered slumped in the gutter outside of a city centre club. Oh, there was nothing wrong with him - he was, as the saying goes, as p**sed as the proverbial newt! I sighed, and took a deep breath.

“Jean, you’ve got the talent to be a really good player for this club, but lately your attitude f**king stinks. To be a professional footballer takes effort, it takes sacrifice, and right now, son, I’m not convinced you’ve got what it takes. I’m fining you two weeks’ wages, now get the f**k out of my sight!â€

Laura (who’d been sat in the corner of the office typing away at something) wandered over, giggling to herself

“Nice speech!! Might have carried a teeny bit more weight, though, if you didn’t have a bottle of Grouse on your desk at the time…â€

********!! Never mind, the ringing of the office phone heralded good news. Gary Smith had come through for me once more, and the coming days would see three new faces joining the happy Bristol Rovers family. Hugo Carolo’s move was a mere formality, his club Mafra accepted our £22k bid a few days ago and thanks to Gary’s quick thinking it seems we’d managed to steal a march on Carolo’s rival suitors. I haven’t seen him in action yet, of course, but he seems a real find - pace to burn and an eye for goal to boot.

The second of our trio is also an Under-21 cap, albeit at a slightly lower level. Gary Jones played three times for the young dragons of Wales during his time as a trainee with Southampton and Swansea, but his career’s stagnated since then and we’ve snapped him up on a free transfer from Welsh amateurs Garden Village. He’s looking at a season in the reserves whilst we hone up his technique.

No, it’s the last of our new captures that could have the biggest impact by far on our season. A major priority for me during this transfer window was to lay my hands on a decent goalie - Jorg Stiel’s never really got over that injury on his debut back in October (and is retiring soon anyway), Scott Shearer couldn’t save his loose change in a jar and young Nando is still a while away from being ready for the first team. But, now we’ve got an international - or at least we will have!!

Posnett Omony is 23, has made 21 outings in the less-than-glorious colours of Uganda, and though I know absolutely bugger all about him Gary Smith was full of praise for his talents. That was enough to persuade me to part with £24,000 to bring Omony in from Bloemfontein Celtic, of the South African Premier League.

Yes it’s a gamble, even more so given the kid doesn’t speak a word of English; but then that’s what playing the transfer market is at this level - a whole series of gambles.

[davidbr]

And, I could be about to take a few more. It seems Gary was currently on some kind of scouting tour in Scandinavia, and as well as a nasty case of frostbite he’d also managed to pick up a list of talented youngsters who fancied playing their football in a country where you didn’t spend half your life in darkness. There was a catch, though…

“Thing is, they’ve never heard of Bristol bloody Rovers, and there’s other local clubs sniffing around as well. I know they’d all prefer a move to England, but if you want them you’re gonna have to come out and sell it to them. I can’t do that bit for you. I’ve lined up a meeting next week for us all in Helsinki - I need to know if you’re going to be there?â€

I thought for a moment. They were all positions I was in big need of (two defenders, a left-winger and a centre midfielder), and while I can’t say the thought of a trip to Finland in January exactly thrilled me (I’m a born coward when it comes to the cold!), Gary had never let me down yet. I put the phone down, and turned to Laura.

“Sweetheart, you up for a few days in Finland next week? I’ve got a bit of business to take care of with Gary, and you don’t have to or anything, but… I could really use the company!!â€

“Yeah, sure! One thing though, love; isn’t it a bit, erm, chilly up there this time of year??â€

Minus six plus wind-chill, according to Gary! Maybe it’d be best to keep that bit quiet for now…

[davidbr]

Saturday 7th January 2006

Grimsby vs. Bristol Rovers, League Two from Blundell Park

Bris R (4-1-4-1); Jorg Stiel, Jean-Christophe Cesto, Kipulo, Ryan Hartslief, Souleymane Bamba, Stuart Fergus, Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Francesco Milano

The trip north to Grimsby was long and arduous, the weather conditions were atrocious (gale-force winds and driving rain) and the Blundell Park pitch was only missing the ducks. So maybe we could be excused a terrible start? Well, not by me we couldn’t!

Terrible would be a kind way of describing our first-half performance here. We just didn’t seem to have got to grips with the reality of the playing conditions, being the home side Grimsby clearly had, and they were working the ball far smoother than we were. And after 9 minutes they got their reward; defender Jean-Paul Kamudimba must be a bugger to write on the team-sheet, but he’s a God when you need a composed through ball in monsoon conditions - his pass to Ben Muirhead was perfect, and Muirhead did just about enough to steer it past the drenched Jorg Stiel.

Having said all that, somehow within two minutes of Grimsby’s opener we were level. It was real route-one stuff and involved bugger all finesse, merely a hopeful punt upfield from Souleymane Bamba, but Francesco Milano deserves full marks for his anticipation and his finish was just what the doctor ordered. 1-1 - but could we turn that moment’s good fortune into a fluent performance. One word answer - No!

Twenty minutes in, a passing move involving Kyle Nix and Paul Bolland carved open our sodden midfield, striker Martin Gritton looked a mile offside when he received Bolland’s pass but there was no flag and Stiel was powerless to avoid being beaten for the second time this afternoon.

Our play scarcely improved for the remainder of the half, and it was only through a combination of luck and poor finishing that we didn’t quickly fall out of sight in this one. But, we held on, and then did better than that - we were level at half time! This one involved about as much quality build-up play as our first; a long punt downfield from Stiel, Mark Worthington beat the offside trap to get free on the right, he sent the cross in and the bounce of the ball in the wet conditions seemed to deceive the Grimsby defence, and there was Milano waiting at the far post to drive home his second of the afternoon. Honours even at the break!

Half time: Grimsby 2 (Muirhead 9, Gritton 20), Bristol Rovers 2 (Milano 11, 44)

[davidbr]

That late equaliser took some of the venom out of my half time team-talk, but it didn’t spare them entirely - we had, quite simply, been awful, and had we been losing by three or four I could have had few complaints. I was mightily impressed, though, by the players’ response after the break.

Inside the first two minutes of the half, Johannes Djourou won back the ball just outside our own eighteen-yard box and, rather than punt it downfield, looked up and saw Franklin Salas in space. He, likewise, glimpsed the green grass around Mark Worthington, and the ball was duly played. Worthington found West, West found the onrushing Kipulo, and in five passes we found ourselves on the edge of Grimsby’s area.

The home defence rushed back, but Francesco Milano was a man on form and he was not to be denied. He ghosted in like an, erm, ghost, at the far post, and when Kipulo sent in the cross the Italian’s header was true, accurate and decisive. We had the lead, and he had the match ball.

After that, it was almost complete Rovers dominance. Dean West had come to grips with the slippery conditions and was pulling the strings through the middle, and we had several chances to increase our lead. Then, in the 65th minute, we won a penalty - at a corner Johannes Djourou tangled with Andrew Ward, the referee ruled Ward had held Djourou’s shirt as he tried to jump for the ball, and pointed straight from the spot. I was just as baffled as the Grimsby players were by the decision, but I wasn’t about to argue! Franklin Salas put the ball down, stepped up, and…blasted the f**king thing over the bar!! Grimsby would say justice had been done - I’d just say it was a darn awful penalty!

Still, it didn’t matter. We held on for a win that on our first half display we scarcely deserved but on our second perhaps should have been more emphatic, and we’ve increased our lead at the top of League Two to four points after Peterborough lost on the road today. Come on!!

Full time: Grimsby 2 (Muirhead 9, Gritton 20), Bristol Rovers 3 (Milano 11, 44, 47)

[davidbr]

“Right, that’s more f**king like it!! If we keep playing like we did in the second half here, we’ll walk this bloody league! Oh, and Francesco - very nicely done! Now we’re staying overnight, well you are anyway, and I don’t mind anyone going out for a few beers - just be sensible, yeah?â€

Tony wandered over and tapped me on the shoulder.

“I guess you’ve heard the scores, then?â€

“What, Peterborough? Yeah, Laura was keeping an eye on the latest scores, pity about their equaliser really.â€

I’d have to admit that a small part of me did feel guilty about wishing defeat on the club that had given me the happiest moments of my career. But, I was fast learning that there was no room for sentiment in football, and today could well prove to be a crucial afternoon come the end of April.

Just then the dressing room door swung open, and Laura burst in.

“Right, you ready? The cab’s waiting outside.â€

“Yeah, I’ll be with you in a minute, love. Just need a quick word with Tony.â€

The players may well have been staying in Grimsby overnight (lucky them…!), but thankfully Laura and I weren’t - we had a plane to catch! In the early hours of tomorrow morning we’ll be flying out to Helsinki

to meet up with Gary Smith, which meant we had to be at Heathrow in, oh, a little over 11 hours! Back in the days of the Victorians and the penny-post it would have been a doddle, but we were dealing with the mysteries of Richard Branson and his Virgin Rail network and so I was leaving nothing to chance!

[davidbr]

Friday 13th January 2006

“So, how did it go then? Lose your c**k to frostbite or anything??â€

Yup, that’s the Ratty we all know and love - always straight to the point!! The answer, by the way, was No - we’d returned from our week in Helsinki with a full compliment of fingers, toes and genitals! And more to the point, we’d returned clutching the signatures of three new signings for the club.

I’d already decided that if Gary Smith reckoned they were the real deal then that was good enough for me, but I’d somehow doubted they’d be quite so keen and so I’d thoroughly prepared my sales pitch ahead of time. Hell, I’d even kept clear of the hotel bar on the Sunday night so I’d have a clear head for our meeting! It turned out, though, that my abstinence was unnecessary. Every one of them was so desperate to escape from Scandinavia that even an offer from a crap club at the arse-end of the English game was treated as if it was a four-year deal at the Nou Camp, and come 11am on the Monday morning they’d all signed on the dotted line. So then, who were they?

Let’s be honest here; superstars they weren’t! Any fans of Heerenveen out there may just vaguely remember Haanu Haarala, the 24-year old full back played a bit-part role in the Dutch club’s recent UEFA Cup campaigns before moving back home with FC Honka - but players with European pedigree (and two full caps to boot) aren’t exactly ten-a-penny at our level. I’d already inked him in for a key role in our defence this season. The other two (17-year old Ville Pajula and 19-year old Patrick Stahl) were really prospects for the future; they’d been playing amateur football until now and would probably benefit from a season in our reserves to prepare them for the realities of the English lower leagues.

It’d cost us barely thirty grand for the lot of them, and I reckoned we’d just done some very important business for Bristol Rovers!

[davidbr]

But the business side of our trip hadn’t taken long. Planning had never been Gary Smith’s strong point, in fact I’d have doubted he could have organised a heavy drinking session in a beer-brewing establishment - but he’d laid out our Monday morning schedule so that it ran exactly like clockwork.

We’d planned to be here until Thursday evening, so what to do in the meantime? Well, what else - drink!! Helsinki was bloody cold (it never got much above minus five in all the time we were there) and it was dark for the best part of eighteen hours a day. But, as you’d expect from a place with so much night to kill, the nightlife wasn’t at all bad! We kept ourselves occupied with crawls (often in a literal sense!) from the hotel, via a few bars, to the city’s Grand Casino, and since we didn’t have Ratty’s chequebook to fall back on it was a good thing I managed to win 5,000 Euros on the roulette one night - Helsinki’s a bloody expensive city to go on an all-day p**s up!!

Still we’d had a good time, Laura seemed to have enjoyed herself, and I’d certainly enjoyed her company. Back in Bristol, Tony and Paul had handled whatever business had needed handling with their usual aplomb, and had even managed to fix up some temporary accommodation for new boys Hugo Carolo and Posnett Omony - which would at least stop Ratty moaning about the cost of hotel rooms! They’d both get the chance to impress the Pirates faithful at home to Carlisle tomorrow.

Francesco Milano’s managed to pull a muscle in his thigh and could be missing for weeks, so there’ll be no gentle introduction to League Two life for Carolo - it’s straight in at the deep end!

[davidbr]

Saturday 14th January 2006

Bristol Rovers vs. Carlisle, League Two from the Memorial Stadium

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Posnett Omony, Jean-Christophe Cesto, Ryan Hartslief, Souleymane Bamba, Stuart Fergus (Sebastian Larsson 64), Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Hugo Carolo

Against the side rock bottom of the Football League and with no win in eleven, this should have been an easy three points to take with us without breaking sweat. But, Carlisle had a player with a point to prove - Junior Agogo had left us for £45k on New Year’s Day, and he was determined to do his utmost to show me I’d made a mistake in letting him go.

He didn’t, though, and it was us who took an early lead. Nine minutes in Hugo Carolo, on his club debut, showed what an attribute pace can be in the right hands as he sprinted clear of the Carlisle defence. He’d been forced wide, but had time and space to pick out a pass and the one he played to Franklin Salas just invited the finish - Franklin provided it, low to keeper Robert Elliott’s left.

If the crowd thought the floodgates would open after that, though, they were wrong, Carlisle didn’t look like the worst side in the Football League, indeed they were positive and pacy and the runs of David Beherall were a constant thorn in our right side. As half time approached we’d certainly had the better of the chances, but still led by just the one.

Half time: Bristol Rovers 1 (Salas 9), Carlisle 0

Mindful of what I’d seen first half, I instructed Kipulo to stay back and perform almost a man-marking job on their lively right back Beherall and straight away it worked to blunt Carlisle’s attacking threat. Agogo, who’d received a torrid reception from the Pirates fans who’d once idolised him in the days before my reign, was increasingly isolated, and it seemed only a matter of time before a second goal came.

And come it did. On 54 Dean West picked up the ball well inside our own half and was allowed to run and run. Franklin Salas’ run out to the right attracted the attention of the visitors’ defence, but it was straight through the middle that the ball was played - straight to where Hugo Carolo had gone storming through. Carolo took his time, picked his spot, and his finish was emphatic past the helpless Elliott. He’s a lively character to say the least, is Carolo, and his extravagant celebration seemed to go a long way towards getting the crowd on his side. It also earned him a yellow card…!

With that the game was as good as over. I took the opportunity to give Seb Larsson a gentle return from injury off the bench in place of Stuart Fergus, Carolo perhaps could have grabbed another but shot just wide, and Dean West wasn’t far away with a thunderous 30-yard drive that fizzed inches over Elliott’s crossbar. But, just as at Brunton Park at the start of the season, the two was more than enough. A job well done, I’d say!

Full time: Bristol Rovers 2 (Salas 9, Carolo 54), Carlisle Utd 0

[davidbr]

“Teddy, you got a minute?â€

To be honest, no I hadn’t - I was meant to be meeting Laura in Hogshead at six o’clock and it was already pushing half past. But Joanne Taylor had waited so patiently for a post-match interview that I didn’t have the heart to say no - and besides, she was looking extremely cute this afternoon (hey, there’s nowt wrong with a bit of window-shopping…!)

“I just wanted a few words about today’s game for the Monday morning edition. Pretty comfortable in the end, wasn’t it?â€

“Well, Jo, I’m not sure about that - Carlisle came here to frustrate us as much as possible and it wasn’t always pretty. But I thought we were very professional in the way we approached the task at hand and, yes, we deserved the three points.â€

“You had two players making their debuts out there today, how do you think they performed? Carolo took his goal very well, didn’t he - will he keep his place once Francesco Milano’s fit again?â€

Joanne blushed bright red as she asked that, and we both knew why - so I’d heard, she’d been seeing a fair bit of my Italian striker lately! Almost all of him, in fact…

“Don’t worry, your boyfriend’s safe enough! No, Hugo’s been signed to provide some extra competition for places, especially since we’re likely to be without Salas for a few games in the spring due to international commitments. But I’ve been impressed with the way Milano’s led the line for us this season and I’m not looking to replace him - at the moment, he’ll remain first choice and it’s up to the others to change that.â€

I hadn’t managed to speak to Milano since our return from Helsinki, but I had been made aware via Tony that he’d seemed very depressed indeed over his latest injury. I’d make a point of having a chat of my own with him in training on Monday, but Joanne would probably see him first and hopefully a cheering word from the girl in his life would reassure him he’s still a key man in my plans. Anyway, the sound of a horn indicated that my chariot (or, at least, my cab) awaited, so that really was all I had time for - we had a win to celebrate, and if I had my way any further memories of the Saturday evening would be very hazy ones indeed!!

[davidbr]

Wednesday 18th January 2006

“F**k me, you serious?? Nah, you’ve must have read it wrong - even Gary said there wasn’t a cat’s arse’s chance of it going through!!â€

I made Ratty read the fax message out three times before I’d believe it, but there it was down in black and white. At the start of the month I’d been desperate for a decent first-team keeper; now, I was about to be falling over them!!

How come? Well at about the same time as Gary Smith had been sorting out the deal for Posnett Omony he’d also tipped me off about 23-year Anthony Silva, who was currently starring for Libertad in his native Paraguay. He was desperate to escape from South America (apparently he owed money to some people to whom it wasn’t a good idea to owe money to…) and had gone cap-in-hand to European agents everywhere pleading for a move. Including Gary, who spoke very highly of the youngster’s abilities.

The snag was, Silva hadn’t even had so much as a sniff of an international cap, and whilst the British Home Office might be happy to let in half of Poland to man the building sites we couldn’t see them being so welcoming to an unknown Paraguayan. Gary was in full agreement that Silva stood about as much chance of a UK work permit as I did of becoming Chief Rabbi.

But since Libertad were only asking for £30k I thought, sod it, let’s make an offer anyway. And then promptly went and forgot all about it - until this morning. I think the staff at the Home Office must have been at the magic mushrooms when Silva’s application came to the top of the pile, ‘cos they’ve only f**king granted it!! Yes, Silva’s now free to live and work in the UK, and since there’s no get-out clause in the deal I’d agreed with his club he’ll be arriving in Bristol sometime next week - leaving me with a selection headache to ponder!

Still he looks a decent player and the extra competition can only be a good thing for the club; I’m sure we’ll find a use for him!!

[davidbr]

Saturday 21st January 2006

Rushden vs. Bristol Rovers, League Two from Nene Park

Bris R (4-4-1-1; Posnett Omony, Jean-Christophe Cesto, Kipulo, Ryan Hartslief, Souleymane Bamba, Stuart Fergus (Jeroen van Staveren 82), Mark Worthington, Johannes Djourou, Dean West, Franklin Salas, Hugo Carolo

Rushden were another side that’d found League Two heavy going this season (they were 22nd ahead of kick-off) but I was mindful of the fight they’d put up at the Memorial Stadium last year and so I wouldn’t be underestimating them. Seb Larsson was fit again but had to be content with a seat on the bench after I decided to go with an unchanged team; Hugo Carolo continued to deputise for the injured Milano.

Once more, Rushden proved to be stubborn sons-of-bitches; despite dominating possession and restricting them to no more than the occasional hopeful long-range effort, we just couldn’t seem to fashion a clear-cut opening of our own. It didn’t help that Franklin Salas’ boots had lost their sparkle - he was anonymous first half - or that Dean West was also not on top of his game. Hugo Carolo’s pace looked set to get him clear of the Rushden back line on a couple of occasions, and the Portuguese had the best chance when he forced a fine save from keeper Jamie Young, but it was all square at the break.

Half time: Rushden 0, Bristol Rovers 0

I was not impressed by our showing so far, as you’d have gathered from the string of expletives that comprised my half time team talk, but I decided against any rash changes at this stage. And that proved to be a good call - within five minutes of the restart, we were ahead.

I’d said that Hugo Carolo’s pace had come close to breaching Rushden’s resistance - well, in the 51st minute, it succeeded. It all came about thanks to a hopeful long ball forward from Johannes Djourou, Carolo was in a race with defender John Dempster to get to it first and there was only ever going to be one winner. Keeper Young came out, Carolo took the ball round him as if he wasn’t even there, and smashed it powerfully into the roof of the empty net. I’ve never been a fan of players doing that, showing off I mean - one day, one of them’s going to miss the bloody thing! - but we were on our way. And, guess what - a minute later, it was two!

Franklin Salas and Dean West had come more into the game this half, and it was thanks to the vision of these two that we carved open Rushden again. West ran with the ball, sold the Rushden defence a dummy and played the ball out to Salas on the right. He made his way to the byline, sent in a cross which was only half-cleared, and there was Hugo Carolo again to show there’s more to his game than being a quick bastard - his finish was cool and composed down to Young’s left.

Just as against Carlisle last week, ultimately two would prove to be enough. But we never do things the easy way, do we? Rushden had barely had a sniff of a goal all game, but on 72 an awful backpass from Ryan Hartslief fell on a plate to their leading scorer Daniel Chillingworth, and although Posnett Omony got a strong hand on it the ball trickled agonisingly over the line. Rushden had a lifeline - Hartslief was bloody lucky I didn’t have any deadly weapons handy.

We were never in any serious danger, though - the only way the home side were ever going to score was if we did it for them, and thankfully we saw out the remaining twenty minutes with no further scares. No doubt I’ll have words with Hartslief for that moment of madness, probably f**king strong ones, but in the end- no harm done, eh!?

Full time: Rushden 1 (Chillingworth 72), Bristol Rovers 2 (Carolo 51, 52)

[davidbr]

Tuesday 24th January 2006

“It’s not great news, Teddy - they say he’s going to need it pinned. We’re looking at three weeks out, maybe even four.â€

That call from physio Phil Kite was the final straw, and the whisky glass I’d been clutching flew across the office before shattering against the far wall. Phil was at the Bristol Royal Infirmary, where he’d taken Hugo Carolo after morning training with what we’d suspected was a broken toe. That was now confirmed, and to make matters worse Carolo would need an operation to fix the damage.

Francesco Milano was still a good few weeks away from a return, and with Franklin Salas likely to be missing on Ecuador duty early next month I could soon be left with Gary Hamilton as my only recognised forward. Which was not good news!! But injuries are part and parcel of the job at this level and usually I just greet them with strong language and strong liquor. My temper tantrum had far more to do with off-field matters - the last few days hadn’t been pleasant for any of us.

The threatening fax messages had been continuing, on and off, since the New Year, but on Friday morning we arrived to find more abusive graffiti sprayed around the walls of the stadium car park - “you’re not welcome here†or stronger words to that effect, I think you get the idea. I can’t pretend it really bothered me, though, and since Ratty was out for the day I was able to get someone in to clean up the mess before he was any the wiser. As far as I was concerned, it was all forgotten. That was, until the silent phone calls started up at the flat.

There’d been a few on Friday which I’d put down to those pain-in-the-arse call centres, but on Sunday morning they’d been relentless - always the same, nobody there, and at the rate of one every few minutes until I’d unplugged the phone and dragged us out for a pint. And while it’d take a bloody sight more than a few calls to turn my pants brown, the effect it’d had on Laura had really got to me. I could see she was really shaken up by it all, she’d even been in tears a few times, and it hurt to see her like that.

Ratty was all for getting the police involved, but I couldn’t see the point - it wasn’t as if we had any hard evidence after I’d destroyed the messages at the club, and for all we knew the calls could be the work of pranksters. Though since we were ex-directory it’s hard to see how they could have got the number…

It was clear, though, we were just about at breaking point. I sighed and reached for my jacket - I had a tried-and-tested escape route that had seen me through some dark days in my recent past.

“F**k it, there’s nothing here that won’t keep until the morning - we’re going out to get p**sed!!â€

And, it worked!! That was at half past two - by 9pm our balance and eyesight were suffering badly, but our spirits were restored. Ratty had decided to install CCTV at the stadium, I’d get in touch with the phone company in the morning to change our number at the flat, and I’d managed to convince Laura that since access to the complex is security-code controlled she was perfectly safe. As for me - it was just good to see smiles on our faces once again!!

[davidbr]

Friday 27th January 2006

Laura sniggered, but all I could do was cringe - no one would have ever made a bigger fool of themselves on TV since that time Prince Edward blundered his way through It’s a Royal Knockout! Looking at myself on screen I could literally still feel the pounding headache and the pain that’d shot through me every time the light hit my eyes. I looked like I’d just been through an autopsy that had gone badly wrong - why, oh why, had I ever agreed to this?!

Actually, I hadn’t; or at least I couldn’t remember that I had! On Tuesday afternoon when Laura, Ratty and I had gone out for our morale-building p**s-up I’d left Tony in the office to tie up a few loose ends, and he swore he’d phoned me to say Sky Sports had been in touch to see if they could run an interview with me - or, as they put it, “the youngest manager in the Football Leagueâ€. He also swore I’d said yes - which was news to me when he phoned at 10am the next morning to say they were at the stadium with a camera crew in tow, and where was I!!?

Seeing as I was still breathing neat vodka at the time I was in no fit state to be alive, let alone on camera - but what bloody choice did I have? So I fell in the shower, fell into my clothes, and an hour later there I was!!

Later I couldn’t remember what the reporter had asked me, or even whether it was a man or a woman, but somehow I’d got through it - now, we were about to see the damage!

[davidbr]

I thought you were brilliant, love. You didn’t even look too scary either…â€

You know what - Laura was right!! They’d clearly “retouched†the footage so I didn’t give small children nightmares but even so, I reckoned I’d come across pretty well!! I’d managed to answer the questions put to me with what on screen seemed to come across as humour (in reality it was probably drunken rambling…) and the young lovely they’d sent to do the honours actually seemed to be laughing with me rather than at me. Looking at her, I wished I’d been more with it when we’d met for the first time… but I glanced across at Laura and put such thoughts right out of my head!!

I actually felt pretty proud of myself, but there was no time for self-congratulation; I had important club business to deal with. While I’d been dealing with phantom callers and drunken interviews Gary Smith had been doing some sterling work behind the scenes to land me another new player - and, trust me, this one will prove to be a hell of a deal for the club! He only arrived in Bristol late last night and I’d only seen him for an hour in training this morning, but 19-year old Diego Perestrelo (or as he’ll wear on his shirt, simply “Diegoâ€) had made a massive impression on me.

So much so I’d moved heaven and earth to get international clearance to face Wrexham tomorrow - he’s signed from Sanjoanense for £5,000, and I reckon I’ve got the bargain of a lifetime!

[davidbr]

Saturday 28th January 2006

Wrexham vs. Bristol Rovers, League Two from the Racecourse Ground

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Posnett Omony, Haanu Haarala (Fabio Silva 45), Kipulo, Souleymane Bamba, Christophe Meoli, Diego, Mark Worthington (Sebastian Larsson 65), Dean West, Franklin Salas, Gary Hamilton (Jean-Christophe Cesto 78)

This was probably just about the most multi-cultural line-up ever witnessed down in League Two - no less than nine nationalities were featured in a foreigner-packed squad that’d have done Arsene Wenger proud! Thanks to injuries, though, I had little choice to throw my new signings into immediate action for our trip to North Wales.

It didn’t seem to have unduly affected us early on, though; Franklin Salas was working his usual magic through the middle, Dean West was ably supporting the Ecuadorian, and new boy Diego was giving us the occasional glimpse of his considerable talent with some surging runs down the left. If I’d had Milano, or Carolo, out there today I’d have said we’d have been out of sight by the half hour - trouble was, our two best chances fell to a certain Gary Hamilton, and he displayed all the shooting ability of a blind man on a rifle range.

We were ahead at the break, though, thanks to a moment’s brilliance by Dean West. Diego had once more outpaced Wrexham down the left, and (perhaps mindful of what we’d already seen from him!) chose not to look for Hamilton in the middle, but instead to pull the ball back to the edge of the area. West was running onto it, and he hit a thunderous first-time drive that almost tore the roof out of the Wrexham net! Not a bad way to end the half!

Trouble is - that wasn’t the end of the half. Less than a minute after West’s goal, Mark Worthington was crudely hacked down by Dennis Lawrence, Worthington got up and I couldn’t see exactly what happened next, but it ended with the Trinidad star on the floor clutching his face. The referee went across to talk to his assistant, they’d clearly seen something amiss, and their decision was unanimous - red card.

Looking back on it, it was actually quite funny - Lawrence is a giant of a man and should be able to eat a little fart like Worthington for breakfast - but right then I wasn’t f**king laughing.

Half time: Wrexham 0, Bristol Rovers 1 (West 44)

[davidbr]

That red card meant an urgent need for a reshuffle; in the end I opted to bring on Fabio Silva for his belated club debut and switch to three at the back. The man advantage seemed to have galvanised Wrexham, though, as straight away they abandoned their negative play and began to surge forward. And we were struggling to cope.

Just past the hour our resistance was finally broken. Former Northern Ireland international Jim Whitley was the architect, he released Andy Holt, Souleymane Bamba’s lunge was wild and pointless and Holt calmly slotted the ball through Omony’s legs for 1-1. Bugger!!

I was quick off the mark with my second switch of the afternoon, bringing Seb Larsson on for the ineffectual Christophe Meoli, but it didn’t make a lot of difference to the direction of the by now one-way traffic. Left-winger Robbie Foy, on a season-long loan from Liverpool, was at the root of everything that was good about Wrexham’s play, and with a quarter of an hour remaining he gave the Welshmen the lead.

Larsson was caught flat-footed, Foy managed to reach the byline, his cross was almost impossible to defend and it was headed in at the far post by Scottish veteran Andy Thomson, a 35-year old who’d had more clubs in his time than Jack Nicklaus.

Another change of formation did nothing to suggest a way back into the game, we weren’t able to find a way back into the game, and Thomson’s goal proved decisive as we slumped to our first defeat in twelve. There was no doubt Worthington’s stupid red card altered the course of the game, but the harsh truth is that on the day we simply weren’t good enough.

Full time: Wrexham 2 (Holt 65, Thomson 76), Bristol Rovers 1 (West 44)

[davidbr]

Pausing at the door of the visitors’ dressing room at the Racecourse Ground, I took a long, deep breath to compose my thoughts. It was true I was desperately disappointed, especially with our second half display, and news that Peterborough had scored a last-minute winner at Darlington to close the gap at the top back to three points hadn’t helped my mood.

But, as Tony had wisely pointed out, I had a good many players out there today with little or no experience of English football and the task of settling them in would hardly be helped by the kind of harsh criticism I was feeling like handing down. It wasn’t as if we’d got hammered, or even that we hadn’t created any chances; Gary Hamilton’s wayward finishing, though, underlined what a blow it’s been to lose both Milano and Carolo in quick succession. But, one man was definitely going to feel my wrath (and possibly my boot upon his backside)… if I could find him, that was.

“Where’s f**king Worthington dragged his sorry arse off to, then?â€

“Took off just after we’d come back out for the second half, apparently. Just got dressed and left, nobody knows where he’s gone.â€

I’d been angry over Mark Worthington’s red card, but these things happen. This latest show of un-professionalism, though, left me bloody fuming. As far as I was concerned, no matter how badly you’ve played personally or what mistakes you may have made, you’re part of a team and you face the manager’s music as a team.

When I was playing I’d never have dreamt of walking out on a match before the final whistle - it’s disrespectful to the club, and an insult to Worthington’s team mates and to me personally. He’d better have one hell of an explanation to hand if he’s to save his career at this club.

“Right, the coach leaves in twenty minutes. Worthington can make his own bloody way back to Bristol, I’ll deal with him on Monday.â€

[davidbr]

Monday 30th January 2006

We were in the office early today, it was barely half-past eight in the morning; but even so the phone was ringing like crazy. Laura got there first, so she answered it - and passed the receiver straight across to me. It was Joanne Taylor, and usually when she called we’d share a laugh and a joke before going on to discuss whatever information it was she wanted. Today, though, her mood was deadly serious.

“Sorry, Jo - can you say that AGAIN??â€

For a brief moment I was lost for words; Jo was right, the news she delivered this morning left little scope for humour.

“Look, Teddy, I’ll fight for you here, write it as favourably as I can from our end, you know that. But we’ve only been given the story from the local rag - and if it’s already being passed around then it won’t be long before Sky or the BBC runs with it. The press loves this kind of stuff, football’s not got the best of reputations right now.â€

“Jo, love, thanks for letting me know, and I promise I’ll get back to you in ten minutes with a proper statement and everything. I just need to get my head round it first."

I’m not in the habit of being thankful for a kick in the ********, but Joanne had really put her neck - and her job - on the line for me here. The Evening Post had come under fire from sections of the Bristol City support lately over alleged bias towards us in its reporting, there had even been talk of an official boycott from their supporters’ club - and as far as editor Brian Ridgeway was concerned, what better way to silence the protests than by slating our club in print? Anyway, behind me stood an anxious-looking Ratty and Laura, and a confused-looking Tony and Paul who’d just that second arrived for morning training. I turned, took a deep breath and began to explain…

“Look, it’s not good news. That was Joanne Taylor at the Post, they’ve just had news through that Mark Worthington’s been arrested on a rape charge up in Wrexham over the weekend!â€

“When?? What happened?â€

“I don’t know, Tony, all I know is he was taken in sometime yesterday afternoon. Jo’s going to see what she can find out for me…â€

I was interrupted by Laura pointing towards the TV in the corner, which was tuned into Sky Sports News. There, under their “Breaking News†banner, were the details in black and white.

“BRISTOL ROVERS’ MARK WORTHINGTON IN CUSTODY OVER RAPE ALLEGATIONS FOLLOWING WEEKEND WIN AT WREXHAM. WORTHINGTON ALLEGED TO HAVE ASSAULTED 20-YEAR OLD WOMAN AT RAMADA PLAZA HOTEL IN EARLY HOURS OF SUNDAY MORNING.â€

Tony, Paul and I each looked as shocked as one another. Worthington was hardly flavour of the month after his weekend antics, but rape? It was just so hard to believe, off field he was such a quiet character who wouldn’t even say boo to a mouse without asking permission first. I, for one, was determined to keep an open mind until I’d heard his side of the story - but not everyone took that view, and throughout the morning we constantly fielded calls from news channels and newspapers looking to dig the dirt. The answer for now was always the same - No Comment. It wasn’t as if we really knew anything to make a comment on, in any case.

By mid-day news had reached us that Worthington had been bailed until this coming Friday and was on his way home. I could tell from her body language that Laura didn’t agree, but for now I was determined to offer my support - innocent until proven guilty, that’s my mantra.

[davidbr]

Friday 3rd February 2006

Ratty put down the phone and turned to face us with a solemn look in his eyes - I could tell what was coming next. He’d just taken a call from Mark Worthington’s solicitor in Wrexham, where he was answering his bail this morning, and the news wasn’t good.

“Teddy, he’s been formally charged with rape - they’re holding him in custody over the weekend and then he’s up before the Magistrates first thing Monday morning.â€

After a difficult week in which we’d done our best to put Worthington’s troubles to the back of our mind, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I’d spoken to Mark when he’d returned to Bristol on Tuesday, and his version was that he was drinking at the bar of his hotel, had been flirting with one of the waitresses and at the end of the night they’d gone back to his room. I was still furious with him over his walk-out, and had fined him a month’s wages for that - but he’d tearfully sworn to me that he’d done nothing wrong and I was inclined to believe him. That’s why I’d allowed him to carry on training with the first team during the week.

Laura, though, took quite the opposite view.

“Come on, Teddy, you can’t keep seeing the best in people. He’s been charged, for f**k’s sake - you’ve GOT to suspend him, love.â€

“I don’t know, I just really don’t think he’s capable of something like that…â€

“Why - you think all rapists wear sleazy grins and shirts with I Am A Rapist stencilled on the back? You’re just as bad as all the others, always taking the man’s side.â€

“Laura, wait!!…â€

But it was too late; she’d stormed out the office slamming the door behind her. Maybe she was right, maybe I was burying my head in the sand. It wasn’t as if I’d been there, wasn’t as if I even knew or liked Worthington especially - Christ, on Saturday evening I was ready to castrate the bastard! It’s just that I could somehow relate to his story. Many’s the time that I’d gone out in a mood, got steaming drunk and ended up sleeping with a girl I’d barely known. I’d never forced any of them, of course - but perhaps it’s only through pure luck that I hadn’t ended up in the position Worthington finds himself in now? And that, I’d admit, was a pretty uncomfortable, and sobering, feeling.

In the end it was Ratty’s calm logic that settled the decision - the realities of the media scrum that would descend on us meant there was only one course of action we could take. So, mid-morning I called Jo at the Evening Post with the news, and (a thankfully calmer!!) Laura posted the following statement on the club website.

“Bristol Rovers Football Club would like to confirm that following today’s developments it had suspended Mark Worthington from all club duties indefinitely and with immediate effect. This should not be seen as implying anything with regards to our views over his guilt or innocence - merely a defence of the image and integrity of our club due to the serious nature of the charges Worthington is facing.â€

And then we went for a drink. I think we’d bloody well earned it!!

[davidbr]

Saturday 4th February 2006

Bristol Rovers vs. Rochdale, League Two from the Memorial Stadium

Bris R (4-4-1-1); Posnett Omony, Haanu Haarala, Kipulo, Mark Earnshaw, Souleymane Bamba, Johannes Djourou, Sebastian Larsson (Jean-Christophe Cesto 83), Fabio Silva, Diego, Dean West, Gary Hamilton

After recent events I was just glad to have my mind back on football again - but with Milano and Hartslief both injured and Salas serving a one-match ban, this was a much-changed side missing a fair chunk of its creative flair. How would we cope against a Rochdale side in a rich vein of form and looking to put a late challenge together for a play-off place? Well, at the start at least the answer seemed to be, very well.

Milano’s strike replacement Gary Hamilton had already missed a great chance after Kipulo had opened up the visitors with a surging touchline run, but he managed to engage his brain for once to play a key role in our eighth-minute opener. Again Kipulo shot forward down the left, Dean West’s vision created some space and West used that space to slip the Northern Irishman in. It was a difficult angle, but Rochdale defender Russell Perrett chose to take a handful of Hamilton’s shirt and down he went.

Manager Steve Parkin was fuming and yes, Hamilton probably could have stayed on his feet if he’d wanted to - some might call it a dive, I’d call it being a clever bastard! Whatever, the decision stood and with Salas indisposed it fell to Haanu Haarala to fire his first Pirates goal with an unstoppable penalty low to the keeper’s left.

The visitors certainly felt aggrieved by the manner of that opener, but they failed to respond in the right way and as a result lost their discipline in midfield. That allowed us to surge forward, led by the excellent Diego and the ever-impressive Dean West, and in the 36th minute the two combined to carve Rochdale apart. Diego sprinted down the left, Perrett couldn’t track West’s run, and keeper Matthew Gilks could do nothing at all about the low angled finish. Gilks’s afternoon would get worse very rapidly, too - in the closing minutes Johannes Djourou intercepted a poor pass, took a look up and with one swing of the Swiss boot Dean West was in the clear. There was only ever going to be one outcome, that was 3-0, and our afternoon was looking easier than Jordan after a quadruple vodka.

Half time: Bristol Rovers 3 (Haarala pen 8, West 36, 43), Rochdale 0

I couldn’t hold back my delight in the dressing room, and my instructions were pretty simple; play it again, Dean! And he did just that - Rochdale tried to be more adventurous, but West’s vision combined with Diego and Kipulo’s linkage down the left meant they hardly had a sniff. Gary Hamilton missed two half chances and one full chance within ten minutes of the restart, keeper Gilks did brilliantly well to palm out a fierce 30-yarder from Johannes Djourou (he’s showing he’s got a heck of a right foot on him when he puts his mind to it) and for all the world Rochdale looked to be heading for a right hiding.

Rochdale’s threat was further blunted when top scorer Rickie Lambert ended up leaving the Memorial Stadium on a stretcher just past the hour, but maybe we’d used up all the luck we were due with that penalty as the ball just wouldn’t drop for us. Not that I was too worried, though, and in the end we did manage a fourth just to round things off in style. It was well worth waiting for, too - a 25 yard thunderbolt from the left boot of Diego with a quarter of an hour to go, I doubt he’ll ever hit a football cleaner than that and it sure did put the seal on a mightily impressive win. Just what I was looking for after what had been a desperately trying week for all of us!!

Full time: Bristol Rovers 4 (Haarala pen 8, West 36, 43, Diego 75), Rochdale 0

[davidbr]

Awesome - that’s the only word to describe today’s performance!! In the office Ratty broke open a bottle of Scotch in celebration and I realised I was smiling, properly I mean, for the first time in days. Next week would be another testing one, for all of us - but just at that very moment, our off-field troubles just didn’t seem quite so important.

Down in the dressing room, though, the mood amongst the players was strangely subdued. A few of them clearly had their minds on things other than football - and, going into the crucial stage of our season, that I could ill afford.

“Look, I know some of you are friends with Worthington and I know some of you think I was wrong to suspend him. That’s tough; I’m the manager, I’ve got to do what I think is best for the club and on this one I had no choice. It’s been a tough week, sure - but we’ve still got a job to do. Let me worry about the other stuff, you just keep your minds on the football.â€

Glancing around the benches I could see that my speech hadn’t had quite the effect I was hoping for, but I had no intention of entering into a debate over the rights and wrongs of my handling of the whole Worthington situation. I did, though, come to a snap decision…

“Right, I can see you’re all tired, you’re all in need of a break. We’ve got until next Saturday before our next game, so… I’m giving you all the week off! I’ll see everyone in training on Friday - and behave yourselves, please, the last thing I need is any more off-field s**te to handle.â€

I could see from the expressions on their faces that Paul and Tony thought I was making a mistake, but with Worthington due in court on Monday the press were sure to descend on us again and I wanted my players kept as far away as possible from the whole circus. All that stuff could wait a while, though - I’d promised Laura a night on the town regardless of the result, but after the way things had gone I felt we’d earned a celebration.

I also felt it’d do us the world of good for the whole backroom staff to let our hair down together, strengthen team spirit and all that. And, you know what - as we staggered back through the city centre singing songs we’d never known the words to sober, I reckoned it just might have worked!! Laura, though, was still unusually quiet…

[davidbr]

Wednesday 8th February 2006

As the picture cut back to Gary Lineker’s smug face in the studio I gave a rueful shake of the head - focus on the result by all means, but there was no hiding the fact that England’s performance had been a million miles away from being worthy of serious World Cup contenders. They’d beaten Holland 2-0 in tonight’s friendly at Old Trafford, Joe Cole and John Terry on target in the second half, but Eriksson’s men had at times looked an utter shambles and the Dutch were by far the better side. If they play like this come June, then our chances of emulating the glories of ’66 look on the slim side of bugger all.

In all honesty, though, it wasn’t Eriksson’s p**s-poor mastery of football tactics that had got my goat - it had been another very trying few days at the Memorial Stadium. The result of Mark Worthington’s court appearance was that he was bailed until the start of next month whilst the police carry out further enquiries; pretty much what the legal people told us to expect, but part of me was still hoping the whole thing would turn out to be a terrible mistake.

He’s still protesting his innocence - Laura’s already decided he should be hung, drawn and quartered. As for me, well I’m not so sure; I want to believe in him, but if it’s gone this far then the police must think they’ve got a reasonably solid case… It’s been the cause of a fair few arguments in the office this week, though thankfully Worthington won’t be coming back to Bristol - he’s originally from Torquay and he’s decided to stay with family down there for a few weeks.

Nope, I wasn’t in the best of moods - something that hadn’t been helped by the fact I’d just watched that England game in Hogshead alone. Ratty had taken Gemma out for a meal, and Laura had decided she’d rather stay in the flat; she’d said she didn’t feel well, but I think that was just an excuse. We’ve been arguing quite a bit lately - not just over the Worthington situation but about trivial, pointless things too - and I’m worried the spark might be starting to fade. And it’ll sound pathetic, but I just can’t imagine my life without her anymore. She’s given me stability, she’s given me a reason to actually look forward to tomorrow - and that’s something I’d been missing for a very long time.

Anyway, I always find melancholy thoughts are best remedied by alcohol and the presence of gambling paraphernalia - in other words, I fancied a trip to the casino!! I couldn’t honestly tell you whether I won or lost, and I couldn’t honestly pretend I cared either way; I just needed a distraction. It must have been well after 2am when I was interrupted by the ringing of my mobile phone - it was Luiz Fernando Soares, the Ecuador manager, calling as he always does to say Franklin Salas had come safely through their friendly with Grenada. At least my day would finish with some good news, eh?!

[davidbr]

Friday 10th February 2006

Another day at the Memorial Stadium, and another sodding problem to cause me a pain in the arse!! It was getting pretty late in the day, and standing in front of me were Johannes Djourou and Sebastian Larsson; they had some serious explaining to do! They’d both been away with their countries’ Under-21 squads for friendlies on Tuesday night, as far as I knew neither of them had actually played in the matches, and they’d been due to return to Bristol in time for yesterday’s training session. And they both, well, hadn’t!!

Now, I wanted to know why. In fact scrub that, I didn’t really give a ******** for explanations - I couldn’t be arsed to listen to excuses. Right now I needed the whole squad to pull together, and by going AWOL for two days Larsson and Djourou had let everyone down. They’d both be dropped for the Mansfield game tomorrow, but since they’re Arsenal players and the Gunners pay their wages that was about all I had the power to do. Arsene Wenger, however, was equally unimpressed, and he’d phoned earlier to say he was fining the two of them a fortnight’s wages - maybe that’ll remind them to get home on time in future…

The main reason I was so p**sed off, though, was that I had some place far more important to be. I was taking Laura out this evening - out properly, I mean, not just the usual night in the pub! I’d booked a table at a swanky restaurant in the centre of town, just the two of us, and I was hoping that spending some quality time together would help iron out the tensions that had started to creep into our relationship. I’d come to realise that I hadn’t been paying her enough attention lately, that just about the only time we spent alone together was in the bedroom - and that it was about time I laid my cards on the table and told her just how special she was to me. Because I wasn’t joking, I really can’t imagine life without her anymore - and what’s more, I don’t want to.

Our heart-to-heart seemed to do the trick, and sat at that table we shared plenty of wine, plenty of laughs and more than a few tears for good measure. Later as we stumbled our way back to the flat arm-in-arm, giggling like a couple of teenagers and as p**sed as a pond of newts, I gazed up at the stars and smiled; I had a good feeling about this!