tenthreeleader

1 February 2010 – Kildare County v St. Kevin’s – Friendly #2 I remained angry. In fact, I still can’t remember the last time I had been so angry for so long. I wanted my players to take my frustration out on St. Kevin’s, but obviously it wasn’t the time or place to tell them that. Still, there was no doubt that I was a very angry man as the match kicked off. I had a different gear, as it were. This match wasn’t for fun, at least not for me, and I frankly didn’t care who knew it. “There’s a rain cloud over your head,” Bishop said in a feeble attempt at humor. “And it’s hailing,” I said. “Mind that you don’t get caught under it.” Chastised, Bishop sat down. Meanwhile, we set out strongly again, though with a different first eleven out there. I started the eleven who finished the first friendly to try to get everyone some early match action. That meant Winter, who had netted four times just a few days before, wasn’t on the park so the couple of dozen people who bothered to attend were left scratching their collective heads. Not that it mattered. I’ve got a team to prepare for the season and I really don’t care what anyone thinks about how I do it. Frankly, I am starting to wonder if anyone’s going to care at all. Half an hour into the match, defender Kenny McDonald managed to catch up to our new arrival, Ger Cheevers, and tackled him. Unfortunately, it was an American football tackle, and doubly unfortunately for McDonald, it happened about five feet to the left of the penalty spot. So, referee Tomas Connolly picked up the ball and moved it five feet, from where Place smashed it home to put us ahead. Eight minutes later we were celebrating again courtesy of another new arrival, Marc Kenny. The veteran calmly slotted home off a scramble in front of the visitors’ goal to make it 2-0 to us in 38 minutes and we went to the break with the manager still glowering but two goals to the good. Cheevers was quite effective for us on both sides of the interval. He earned us that penalty before the break and got us another one in the second half as McDonald fouled him again early on in the second half, earning us a spot kick and getting himself sent off for a second bookable offense in the process. In all, sort of the Blue Max of screwups, I guess. Place powered home from the spot again to make it 3-0 and that allowed me to start my substitution pattern with few worries. Eventually I brought Winter on and that got warm applause from the few fans who were still there to watch. Perhaps they were just clapping to keep their hands warm, as it was starting to get a bit chilly even for the first of February. Winter didn’t disappoint. Curran played a neat little ball forward for the striker, who showed a terrific turn of pace and powered home gleefully from fifteen yards to get himself on the scoresheet and remind one and all (oh, okay, one and a few) who the top dog in Newbridge really was. I can’t wait to see him paired with Cheevers. That should be fun. Meanwhile, we blew them away. That was enough even to make a frustrated, angry man smile. Kildare County 4 (Place pen 30, pen 54; Kenny 38, Winter 90+2) St. Kevin’s 0 (as in none, McDonald s/o 53) A – 29, Station Road, Kildare Man of the Match – Bernard Brennan, Kildare County (8.5) # # #

1 October 2022 – Championship Match Day #12 Reading v Huddersfield Town -Select Car Leasing Stadium, Reading Referee: Robert Madley Game Theme: Workin’ Day and Night – Michael Jackson The news was better for Ryan when he got to the ground for the matchup against Town. Rahman passed a fitness test but was still limited by Hirons, but Hoilett was available and Sarr would have been available if called upon but was still sore. The eleven was still changed out but the biggest change was Bouzanis for Lumley in goal. Ryan hardly had to tell the Australian that he was getting his chance after finally starting to train better, but the goalkeeper’s expression in the changing room said all that needed to be said without a word being exchanged between the two men. The fans were starting to get in Ince’s business on social media, since after a fast start the midfielder had fallen on comparatively hard times in terms of his recent performances and as a result when his name was announced in the starting eleven, a smattering of boo-birds made their opinions known. Ryan didn’t appreciate that – no manager who cares about his players would be pleased by such an attempt to veto his team selection – but he tried to put it to the back of his mind as the match kicked off. Across from his technical area stood the glowering figure of Neil Warnock, the tough-as-nails manager of Huddersfield Town and onetime boss of Sheffield United when they were (mostly to them) controversially relegated from the Premiership in 2004. Aside from the visiting boss still looking like he wanted to throw darts at a picture of Carlos Tevez, the opening minutes saw Reading start brightly, with two corners in the first four minutes and a pretty good chance that Carroll scooped over the bar. The form of the Wigan match was there, Ryan was certain. It just needed an outlet. Twenty-two minutes into the match, the outlet showed up in the form of a gift-wrapped chance courtesy of the Town central defenders. Ince started with the ball on the left, laying ahead for Nesta Guinness-Walker, deputizing for the injured Loum. His return ball for Ince was headed away by Jonathan Hogg, who brought the ball to control before passing ahead to Fulham loanee Anthony Knockaert at the edge of the box. Knockaert overran it and Ince was right there to claim the ball, twelve yards from goal. Tomas Vaclik had no chance, and Ince had changed some minds in the stands with the first goal of the match. Not quite ten minutes passed before the next piece of good news arrived. Femi Azeez, who had accepted the Young Player of the Month trophy before the match, celebrated by taking Yiadom’s throw from the right touchline, pivoting, and placing a perfect cross to the far edge of the six-yard box. There was Ince, waiting to score with his head this time. Two goals in eight minutes had put Reading ahead comfortably. And that started Warnock yelling. Ryan stood, a picture of patience, on his touchline. He didn’t want anything he might have said to interfere with a truly memorable touchline rant from Warnock, which was enough to give Ryan’s players all the motivation they needed. Casadei rumbled a drive off the woodwork in response, and with Huddersfield hanging on by their fingernails, they attempted to climb back into the match with Danny Ward breaking in on the left. But there was Bouzanis, out to challenge and showing strong hands to hack Ward’s drive around the post. Moments later, it was Town’s Watford loanee, Joseph Hungbo, who created a scoring chance. Sadly, it was for the other team as he was dispossessed by Yiadom on the right. Three passes later the ball was in the eighteen for Carroll, back to goal and ready to do some business. But instead, he laid off his good shot position for a better one from Azeez, and the Young Player of the Month calmly stroked Reading’s third past Vaclik three minutes from the interval. Ryan chose to remind his team that they still had 45 minutes to play and even though the first 45 had been rather thrilling, the job was quite literally only half done. The Reading team that took the field for the second half was not as attack-oriented as the one who had cut Warnock’s team to ribbons in the first half, but it was certainly good enough. Town managed only one shot on target in the final 45 minutes, and when you enter play trailing by three, those are the kind of numbers that make the outcome fairly clear. Tom Holmes headed home in seventy minutes for a 4-0 lead, but the goal was chalked off for passive offside against Guinness-Walker, leaving the central defender to wonder had happened as his celebration ground to a halt. But Town never came near Bouzanis, who got to celebrate a clean sheet on his return to the eleven, in the midst of teammates who had played a nearly perfect game. Reading 3-0 Huddersfield Town Ince 22, 34; Azeez 42 # # #

Thanks for thinking of me, but MadSheep has it pegged!

Smooth, smooth, smooth. I'll be admiring this along with the rest of the group.

A lovely start by you! And yes, Spike Brits is excellent.

Ten-nil over City is mouthwatering, I'll grant you that. Curious to see where your narrative goes!

“You’re kidding me, right? You have got to be kidding me.” Alana wasn’t kidding. And I was absolutely mystified. We were standing in the stadium car park after the match. It was empty. Since there were just over two dozen people in attendance, it wasn’t as though there was much of a traffic jam to leave. “I’m serious,” she said. “Don’t call me again.” “May I ask why?” I asked. “Well, when you leaned out of your car after the match, do you know who I was standing with?” “No, and frankly I didn’t care,” I said. “You were the one who said you wanted me to greet you.” “I was standing with Eamon,” she spat. “We were talking about our children. Do you know how much trouble you caused for me?” “No,” I answered. “That’s the trouble with you, you don’t think,” she spat. I don’t often see red, but I was seeing it right then. The lights of the stadium were shut off right at that moment and her face went from being bathed in yellow light to framed in shadow in a split second. “You didn’t think, and you caused me trouble,” she repeated. I interrupted. Blinking to adjust to the change in light, I went over the top. “Now you listen to me, missy,” I snarled. She started to interject but I simply raised my voice and overpowered her. “You will not lecture me. I accept no censure and I will accept no criticism whatever for being a gentleman and trying to be supportive of you on one of those rare occasions when I actually get to talk with you. Do you hear me?” “You caused me trouble –“ “I said … do you hear me?” I locked eyes with her and all the pain I had ever felt in relationships was now pressed right behind my eyeballs. It made my head hurt. “You don’t think and you don’t listen,” she said. “I am through being pigeonholed and I am through being told that my opinion doesn’t matter,” I said, my voice now cold and hard as steel. “I will go where I want and I will greet whom I want. And I will tell you this: one of those people will not be you.” She looked at me, a wild-eyed expression in her eyes. I supposed it matched mine. “Don’t call me again,” she repeated. I turned my back. “Get out of my sight,” I replied. “Nobody talks to me like that and gets away with it.” I strode to my car and slammed the door behind me. I roared off into the street – dreadfully hurt but with my dignity more or less intact. ##

Thank you, Sherm ... lots of ways this particular story can go! ___ With Huddersfield coming in to end the team’s two-week layoff at the weekend, the first phrase that went through Ryan’s mind after the penultimate training session prior to the match came from Lloyd Bridges. The veteran actor, as part of the cast of Airplane! had uttered the immortal words “I picked a bad week to quit sniffing glue” to react to bad news. As Ryan looked at his medical report, he felt the same way. Lumley, Hendrick and Long had all pulled up lame during the session, with injuries not severe enough to be season-threatening but surely enough to break up a winning eleven for the weekend. Lumley and Hendrick had done it to each other by colliding in a defensive set piece drill. The goalkeeper left with a sore neck, and Hendrick left with a tight thigh after contacting Lumley’s knee during the challenge. While Hirons sorted that out. Long then went down with a twisted knee during the next drill. None of the injuries was major but all three would put the players involved in serious doubt for the weekend. Soon the word was passed – two weeks for Lumley and at least a week for Long, who was the club’s leading goalscorer, while Hendrick’s involvement would likely be a game-time decision for Ryan to make. The next day was almost as bad, as Naby Sarr went down right after the dynamic stretching that starts every workout, with a knock suffered in the first drill. Like the others, it wasn’t a dramatic injury, but Ryan was faced with the prospect of making up to four changes to the team that had smothered Wigan so convincingly two weeks before. # # #

“Mr. Ridgway, you have a visitor.” Ryan’s PA, Lizzie Sharp, stood in the doorway to the manager’s office with an odd expression on her face. “You look perplexed,” Ryan said, stating the obvious. “It’s Sir John,” she replied, and Ryan’s face suddenly wore a similar expression.” “Well, then please show him in,” Ryan said, rising to meet the life director as he entered the room. “Ryan, I just wanted to go over a few things with you,” the Royals’ former owner said as he entered the room, hand extended. Ryan shook his hand and motioned him to a seat on the couch next to the manager’s desk. Sir John sat, and Ryan offered him a cup of tea, which the older man gratefully accepted. “So, what can I do for you?” Ryan asked, handing him a steaming hot cuppa from a kettle behind his desk. “About this ownership business,” Sir John said. “I’m not happy about how we’re being portrayed in the press.” “What can I do about it? All I seem to do is make the situation worse by being honest.” “Well, you really can’t do a lot about it,” Sir John replied. “But perhaps I can. I spent many years and a lot of money helping build this club and it annoys me to see statements like we have seen coming from China.” Leaving aside the fact that Madejski himself had helped create the problem by selling the club to Dai, his reaction to Ryan’s situation was at least heartening. “So, why are you here with me now instead of with the board?” Ryan asked. “Because you need to know what might happen at board level and it would be best if I told you personally,” Madejski said. “Your father would have gone crazy had he not known what was going on back in his day.” “I think it’s fairly obvious that I’m not my father,” Ryan said, “but I appreciate your letting me know.” “One thing you must learn as you progress in your profession,” Madejski replied, “is to know where you stand with key figures at your club. I’m telling you that I plan to advocate on your behalf with Dai, and you need to know that before I do it.” “Of course, Sir John. I meant no offense.” “None taken, young man,” Madejski said, rising to leave. “Do what you normally do but do not be surprised if you read some unusual things in the press.” Ryan showed Madejski to the door and then went to sit back behind his desk. “And that would be different from now in what way?” he mused to himself as he went back to watching video. # # #

29 January 2010 – Kildare County v Garda FC – Friendly #1 It didn’t seem like my team, somehow. That was for two reasons. First, we had so many new faces out there. Second, because we were far enough ahead to make me wonder whether it was really my new group of players out there. Winter had been sensational. In his first game in the shirt, he had scored a hat trick and had driven our non-league opposition to distraction. He was too quick for Garda, that was obvious. It had taken him just under ninety seconds to open his account with us – though, of course, it will be much more satisfying if he scores when it matters – but the start had been quick and thunderous. Garda equalized through defending that was frankly comical. Two new defenders – Fagan and Roche – had collided while chasing a loose ball that the new keeper, Davies, had already called for. The defenders fell like ninepins and I watched in horror as Davies then backed off the ball for striker John Murphy to collect and slot home. “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, before uttering an exceptionally rude word. Bishop had his head in his hands. It was only a friendly but it was one of the most ridiculous goals either of us had ever seen. It was that bad. I had to watch my language. There were only a very few people who cared to show up for the match and just about anything said on either bench was audible from a frighteningly long distance away. Yet Winter overcame a lot of that embarrassment. He scored a second goal before halftime and a third three minutes after the restart. We had possession, we were incisive and we were rampant after the little bit of high comedy had died down. “You know, if we don’t trip over our own feet again we might be good value,” I said to Bishop, and my deputy simply smiled. “Never know, Matt,” he said with a wan expression. “It’ll take some time for these lads to jell as you know, but never underestimate the chance for a catastrophic error.” As I spoke, Winter took a great little feed from one of our youth promotees, midfielder Declan Young, and turned a fourth goal home just inside the hour. That was much better. It was almost enough to outweigh the colossal error we had made at the back – reminding those who cared to show up that we were still very much an amateur side. Kildare County 4 (Ryan Winter 2, 35, 48, 59) Garda FC 1 (John Murphy 11) A – 26 (yes, that’s right) – Station Road, Kildare Man of the Match – Ryan Winter, Kildare County (9.8) ##

17th September 2002 – Championship Match Day #11 Wigan v Reading – DW Stadium, Wigan Referee: Tony Harrington Ryan tried to keep his bad mood away from his squad as they warmed up to take on the Latics. A little constructive fire in the belly wouldn’t hurt, of course, but his issues with ownership couldn’t be allowed to get in the way of the team’s play. So, after swallowing a couple Pepto-Bismol at the hotel to soothe a justifiably upset stomach, Ryan went to the team breakfast as ready he would ever be to do his job. Wigan had started the season in a similar situation to Reading – except they started the season on minus three points instead of the Royals minus six. However, Wigan hadn’t played nearly as well as Reading over the start of the season, and as such still sat in 23rd place when the match started, at least out of the negative with five points. “Clear out the gunk from your game today,” Ryan said in the team talk. “We haven’t played like we can for a few weeks now. Make this be the day that that changes.” There was a light moment before the match as Ryan, Wigan manager Shaun Maloney and Long gathered for a brief conversation. The latter two had played for Rob at Reading, one was still there and the other was trying to grow his reputation as a manager. Long was the first to snap out of the reverie, if you will, taking advantage of Ben Amos’ blunder with only three minutes on the clock. He fumbled Andy Yiadom’s early corner and put it right on Long’s boot, who didn’t miss. One-nil to Reading in a shockingly early breakthrough. To their credit, though, Wigan didn’t flinch. They started getting forward in a controlled way and looked very much like a team that would have something to say before the match was over. And just over ten minutes later, they did, as the wonderfully named Max Power scored a goal-of-the-month candidate with a 25-yard turn-and-shoot thunderbastard that cleanly beat Lumley to the top left corner of his goal. Maloney pumped his fists as his players celebrated a moment of brilliance that had leveled the score. Quietly, Ryan clapped his hands to show encouragement rather than being upset at the equalizer. For some reason, that really revved up Azeez. Tom McIntyre took the kickoff and moved play to the right side of the Wigan penalty area, got to the byline and laid off for Azeez, who was standing at the edge of the six- yard box. Just a minute after Power’s equalizer, Reading led again and this time you could see Wigan shoulders slumping all over the pitch after Azeez’s first goal of the season. McIntyre’s influence continued, as the first half wound down. With just a minute to go before the break he shook loose down the left once again and squared for Azeez from near the corner flag. Azeez flicked on for Long, who had slipped his marker in the six-yard box and had the simplest of finishes for a 3-1 lead at half. Ryan couldn’t keep the smile off his face as the team sat for the team talk. “Hell, I can’t think of anything to add other than that if you screw this up I’ll make you run laps for a week,” he grinned, to the reaction he wanted to see from his team. They were loose, happy and looked like they had unfinished business. The second half began and Amos then robbed Long of his chance to take the match ball home with him with a reflex save ten minutes into the half that was frankly stunning. But Reading didn’t need to score any more and with the Latics wilting, it was a relatively simple thing to take the three points back to Berkshire. Wigan 1-3 Reading Power 14; Long 3, 43, Azeez 15 # # #

That said, we did attract even more players in the close season. The Kildare Reclamation Project did nab another player out of that trial match – 20-year-old striker Ger Cheevers, who played nine matches for non-league Salthill last season and who looks like he can find the back of the net. That gives me two half-decent strikers and gives me a better partner for Winter – which means it doesn’t have to be Flood. Unfortunately for me, Floody was then promptly voted Fans’ Player of the Year, which means benching the fan favorite isn’t going to go over very well. It also meant a slightly larger following for him at Coffy’s, which was good for him. Some guys have all the luck. The fans do like him. Those fans we have, that is. We weren’t selling season tickets, so when Nakov announced at a January AGM that the club had turned a profit of 425,000 Euros, which amounted to a rather stupendous 828 percent of turnover, it caused a bit of a stir in Newbridge. Of course, a fair amount of that money was Nakov’s, but it did beg the question as to why some of it couldn’t be spent to pay players. Or the manager, for that matter. Except I seemed to be the only one thinking along those lines. While all that controversy flared about town, I snagged 16-year old Scottish midfielder Richard McIntosh on, obviously, a free transfer. The lad had come up through the St. Johnstone system and had had SPL facilities at his disposal for training prior to his release at the new year. It didn’t take us long to find him, as he actually showed up on one of our scouting reports. That in itself was a minor miracle, but I wasn’t about to say anything. The growth in our numbers on the back line allowed me to release both Kevin Cotter and Fergus Foley, two of the rarely-do-wells from last season. Still, even though they weren’t especially good footballers, I hated the thought of releasing them. That brought the number of imports to nine, and the number of departures to ten. It was like getting a whole new team. And frankly, even though we had accomplished something meaningful with that group of players, the overwhelming majority of them simply were not good enough. However, it was soon time to stop the talking and start playing again. Non-league Garda FC was our first test in our first friendly and it was time to see if all these new players could actually jell. ##

Two weeks into pre-season training, I attended a tryout match for forty players unaffiliated with any Irish club. The players trained for the managers and scouts assembled prior to the match in case they didn’t get a fair chance to showcase their skills in the match. I noted that there were several players who would look even better than all the others in our colors, and it didn’t take me long to sense that. One player stood head and shoulders above the rest, literally as well as figuratively. I say figuratively because he was good. I say literally because he stood six-foot-seven. Clive Delaney played 14 matches for Sligo Rovers in the Premier Division last year, scoring once, but was rather inexplicably released at the end of the season and could not find a club. So he was in the tryout game – and dominating. There was just no way I was going to let him leave the ground without making an offer, and I sort of expected the answer I got. Which was, in a word, ‘no’. “You want a club, we’re willing to be a club, and you know you can leave whenever the hell you want because you aren’t being paid,” I reminded him. “I know that, and it’s still no,” he said. “Someone in this country will pay me.” “I have no doubt of that, but will they play you week in week out like you can play here?” "I don’t want to have to find a job,” he explained. “I want football to be my job. I’m sorry.” Well, I couldn’t really argue about that but I did have a parting shot for him. “If you don’t have a club in three weeks or so I’m going to be calling you again,” I said. “I have to look out for my organization too and I know you can help us.” “Fair enough but the answer will be the same.” He couldn’t know that, and we both knew that. ##

I moved to Newbridge. That might or might not have been a good idea. From the point of view of my job it wasn’t a big deal. Somewhat to my own surprise, I was actually successful at it. I was a good little headhunter, as the phrase goes, and my bosses noticed. They also gave me a bit of leeway in terms of my personal schedule. That allowed me to move to Newbridge and try to set up something a little more palatable in terms of my second job as well. I also waited for my phone to ring. It didn’t, but that didn’t surprise me. I had work to do anyway, and I noticed a curious thing with each move I made that involved the senior squad. Every time I’d release a player from the prior year’s club, someone would remark about how brilliant an idea that was. Suddenly, I got an idea as to why no one showed up for our games. Evidently people hated the entire team. It also explained why the players didn’t often make appearances at Coffy’s. A little research in the public records section at Newbridge Town Hall didn’t turn up any allegations of axe-murdering, armed robbery or orgasm donation among my players, but I think it all boiled down to this: they just weren’t very good footballers and people were tired of watching them fail. Amazingly enough. So, the new free signings I brought in to replace the old free signings were greeted, almost to the man, with delight. The interest in the town seemed to be growing as the pre-season training schedule continued, Robinson kept down more and more of his dinners, and we started to look like a half-decent team. At least, as long as we were facing ourselves in intra-squad scrimmages. We still had to raise our opinions of ourselves, though. For example, one of our scrimmages went to penalties after I insisted one day that all these guys play until we found a winner. Horgan rammed home the winning penalty and then declared that it was his biggest thrill in football. I thought he was kidding, but he claimed he was serious. We really do need to raise our goals. I’ve got goals, but I don’t dare tell the squad yet. I want us to win at least one of our first five league matches. I’d love that for the players’ confidence. I’d also like to see us to win a cup match of any kind. When you go oh-for-2009 in terms of your victory total, anything that raises morale or maybe even gets us an extra home gate (such as it is) certainly helps the cause. And finally, I’d like to see us go part-time. The caliber of player we’d attract would improve dramatically, which brings me to the point of this soliloquy. ##

More Money, More Problems By Jill Weatherby Special to the Reading Evening Post Remember that midweek missive from Reading FC’s ownership group aimed at the forehead of manager Ryan Ridgway? Get ready for more bad news. Sources close to the club have informed me that Dai Yongge may have issues meeting September’s payroll obligations, a situation that is sure to enrage many supporters. Ridgway, for his part, is downplaying the significance of the statement made, naturally from China, which took him to task for essentially telling the truth – he has a small squad and not much margin for error given the club’s ongoing financial constraints. I can reveal that the overall situation is better than it was twelve months ago, when the Royals were staring down the barrel of draconian penalties for financial mismanagement. That mess has largely been cleared up, but the early season fixture list, which has featured more away matches than home, have resulted in what sources call a “temporary bubble” on the club’s balance sheets. “The club are playing well and eventually that should lead to a better gate and an easing of our situation,” the source, who was naturally speaking on the condition of anonymity, revealed to me this week. “But for the short term, we need some home matches.” So why the acrimony toward the manager, who seems to have done nothing wrong? “I can’t fathom it,” the source told me. “Ryan’s a lovely chap, he’s always got time for anyone at the club who wants a chat, and he’s as honest as the day is long. He doesn’t duck tough questions and he doesn’t deserve the way he’s being treated at the moment.” “It’s almost like he’s being used as a pawn by the owners,” the source concluded. “If something bad happens he’s expendable but as long as things are going well, criticism can be deflected onto him without worry. Either way, the owners win.” If this reporter has learned anything in twenty years of covering the Royals, it is that a Ridgway never takes a slight, real or imagined, sitting down. It is unlikely that this very real slight to the younger Ridgway will go over well with either the playing staff or with supporters.”