One for sorrow, two for joy. A tale of the Magpies.

England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales. Uncle Ron's lower league database, all leagues to the lowest league. Large database.

Tuesday 6th July 2010

As I entered the press conference, cameras flashed at me like a sea of twinkling stars, as I approached the table at the front an audible hush fell across the crowd of journalists gathered in front of me. A man in a suit stood and introduced me to the crowd.

“Here we have 38 year old Danny Preston the new England manager.”

More camera flashes followed this announcement as everyone tried to get the photo that would make the front cover of the various tabloids. Opening my mouth I began to speak.

“I am delighted to have accepted this job, as a boy I would dream of this moment, and following my accident I never thought I would have a chance like this again. Any questions?”

A journalist from the front raised her hand and I gestured to her.

“And I’m thinking what’s the deal, with the facts that they conceal?”

Staring at her I wondered why she was asking me this question.

“I have no idea.” I replied confused.

Pointing to another journalist, I hoped for a more sensible question.

“But I’m thinking what’s the harm, with a bit of rhetoric and charm.”

“That’s not even a question.” I shouted over the growing noise. Everyone in the room was now speaking and they were all saying the same thing.

“But I can’t comprehend, a beginning or an end, no I can’t quite stomach this.”

Looking to the right of me I could see my phone flashing an alarm at me, picking it up I turned it off and the journalists stopped, well they disappeared and so did the rest of the room. Looking around I realised I was in my bedroom staring at the same walls. Rubbing my eyes I tried to shake the dream, if it hadn’t have been for my alarm playing “No Sleep Tonight” by Enter Shikari, I might have stayed in that dream for a couple of hours longer. As it was I was late for another important meeting.

Stepping out of bed, I quickly dressed and walked downstairs, as I walked down the stairs I looked at the various football shirts in their frames. The first shirt I passed was a Newtown AFC shirt, which I had been given as a leaving present, I had spent 3 years at Newtown from 1990-93. The next shirt marked a period in my life where I played at the highest league I have ever played at, as a Shrewsbury Town supporter this shirt had been hard to pull on for the first time. But I had spent a happy 4 years at Wrexham, from 93-97. I had left Wrexham in 97 for an unknown team who had just won the Division 3 championship, Wigan had been my next port of call and I stayed there until the millennium. Following Wigan I had dropped down a league and had joined Bury for 2 years, until my boyhood team came knocking, I only stayed at Shrewsbury for a year, which had ended in relegation, framed with the shirt was a newspaper clipping from the Daily Mirror following our win over Everton. I had only moved down the road following Shrewsbury and joined Kidderminster Harriers, who I stayed with until they were too relegated. Chester City were next, I hadn’t been a popular signing, but I kept my head down for 2 years and had been sad to see their demise. My last league club were Accrington Stanley and I enjoyed a year there, until it was clear my legs had gone. The last shirt on the stairs was the shirt of the club I was due to have a meeting at, Chorley FC.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs I looked back at the shirts, feeling a sense of nostalgia. Entering the living room I looked down at the dog that greeted me, and sensed that it was time for breakfast for both of us. Opening a tin I dropped it into Rowley’s bowl, the proud English Sheepdog tucked in and was soon chasing the bowl around the floor. For myself I prepared cornflakes, and settled down in front of the television to eat them.

Once I was finished I stood up and placed the bowl on the coffee table, whistling to Rowley I placed him on his leash and walked out of my house. Stepping onto the street I started my walk to Victory Park the home of Chorley FC where I had finished my career. I say I finished my career but it was actually an accident I had had that had finished it off. Driving back down to my parent’s home in London one night, I had suffered a hypo at the wheel and had crashed my car into the central reservation of the M40, I was soon diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic. I could have carried on with my footballing career even as a diabetic, but the broken leg I had also suffered in the crash had spelt the end.

I soon arrived at the ground, slipping through one of the side gates, I approached the social club, where Ken Wright had told me he wanted to meet me. Tying Rowley to a post outside, I stepped inside.

“Danny!” Ken greeted me.

“Hello Ken” I replied.

Ken gestured to a seat by one of the tables and I took it.

“You look frozen.”

“I’ve never been able to adjust to the North.”

“Tea?”

I nodded my answer, I wanted to get down to business and get on with my day.

Ken soon plonked a mug of tea in front of me, he sat down with his mug, and opened a packet of sugar, once he had poured his sugar he offered me a packet.

“No thanks, diabetes.”

He nodded and placed the packet back in front of him.

“So how does it feel? Manager of Chorley?”

“It feels good. Like home.”

“And how does Melanie feel about it?”

“She’s happy that she gets to stay in Chorley, I mean she’s from here.”

“No ring on the finger yet though?”

I shook my head, why had this meeting suddenly turned into a chat about my relationship with Melanie?

“Right then, down to business. There is no money for transfers. But I can give you £2.9k per week for wages if you can mount a title challenge.”

I nodded, I was going to do more than mount a title challenge, I was going to win the league.

“Also you will have to find your own assistant. I can place an ad if you want.”

“Please.”

Ken nodded and looked at me, trying to remember what he had to say.

“There is a chance for you to meet the local press tomorrow at 9am, I want you here.”

“Fine, how many should I be expecting?”

“Just the one, and it will take place in here.”

I nodded it was going to be nothing like my dream.

“Well that’s it really, you know where your office is.”

Standing up Ken shook my hand and left. I soon followed him, untying Rowley from the post I led his round to my office, it was small but there was enough room for a desk and a couple of filing cabinets.

Nice start, ST.

Thanks!

Wednesday 7th July 2010

Ken had left me a copy of the advert he had posted in the Non-League Paper, and in various other media sources.

“Determined and forward thinking club, need an assistant manager who has experience of working in the conference and above. Applicants need to be determined to improve, and should be extremely ambitious.”

Reading it over and over again, I found it getting funnier every time I read it, Ken had obviously tried but I wished he had left it up to me. Looking up at the clock I had placed in my office, I noticed that it was five minutes to nine, and therefore time for me to head over to the social club to meet Fred Graham, journalist for the Chorley Guardian. I walked down the tunnel and emerged onto the pitch, walking across the pitch I hopped over the boundary wall at the end and entered the social club. As soon as I entered I spotted Ken talking to a middle aged man, approaching them I put my hand up in greeting.

“Danny, this is Fred.”

“Hello, how are you?” I said.

Fred nodded and stared as if trying to figure me out. I pulled one of the chairs out in front of him and sat down.

“So, Danny, here you sit as the new manager of Chorley, how do you feel?”

“Yeah, it’s a great feeling knowing that I have a chance to take this great club forward.”

“What changes will you make?”

“Every player will have a chance to prove themselves to me.”

“Do you feel you can bring success to this club?”

“Ask me at the end of the year.”

“I know you work as the Headteacher of one of the local schools, how will you juggle the two jobs?”

“I’ve already worked out how I am going to split my time between the two. I will be very involved here.”

“So what is you management style?”

“I like to be hands on, and I want the players to approach me with any problems.”

“Finally, what about tactics?”

“Attack. I will build on a rock solid defence, and encourage the players to attack.”

At that moment Fred’s mobile rang, as he stood and answered it, I looked round at Ken who put both thumbs up.

“I’ve got to go.” Fred told us.

Both myself and Ken nodded our goodbyes as he left, probably to report on a fete, or something.

“What friendlies have you arranged?” Ken asked.

“Ummm none just yet, I’ve phoned a couple of managers but nothing is concrete.”

“Well make sure you arrange some soon.”

I nodded and stood up to leave, thinking of clubs that might be interested in playing us.

Thursday 8th July

After spending the majority of Wednesday trying to find teams interested in playing us in a friendly, I had finally managed to find 4 teams, of varying stature in the footballing pyramid. We were due to play Plymouth on the 25th July, AFC Hornchurch on the 28th July, Lincoln City on the 31st July and Hucknall on the 3rd August. All of the friendlies were to be played at home, Ken was extremely happy about the Plymouth fixture as he felt it would be a money-spinner.

After finalising the details of the friendlies with Ken, I set off to the Plough, the closest pub to Victory Park, after the social club, plus Melanie works there and I hadn’t seen her in the past couple of days. The walk was brief, it was cold in Chorley, it always seemed to be cold in Chorley. I’d once joked with Melanie, that any tourism board in Chorley should use the tagline “Chorley, the town where it is always grey.”

Stepping through the door of the Plough I was greeted by the smiling face of Melanie.

“Hey stranger, how are you?”

“Good, you?”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you. Carling?”

I nodded and sat on one of the stools by the bar. Melanie plonked my pint down in front of me and stood chatting to me.

About half an hour after I had entered, a group of lads entered and approached the bar.

“Oi, you’re that Preston aren’t you.” One of them said.

“Yeah, I’m Danny Preston.”

“Why should I come and watch your lot then?”

“Well by the look of your Man City shirt, you don’t actually like football.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I sighed, “Nothing. Just come to Victory Park, if you want to support your local team.”

My questioner grunted and walked over to the pool table where his mates were stood. Melanie looked at me and smiled.

“Let’s hope they don’t attend.”

“Maybe they should, it would certainly raise attendances.”

“That's very true. By the way Martin says you better win the league this year.”

I drained the rest of my pint, and stood up to leave.

“Well I hope we can as well. Dinner tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah sure.”

Friday 13th August 2010

Some people don’t like this date, and I’m one of them usually, but today was different, today was the eve of the new football season. I dressed quickly and bounced down the stairs, Rowley looked at me apathetically as I poured a tin of food into his bowl, and proceeded to put bacon on my George Foreman. I ate the sandwich as quickly as I had made it. I walked down to Victory Park dragging Rowley behind me as I went.

I arrived at Victory Park and was greeted by Billy Dodds, my new assistant manager, he was staying in a hotel local, and looked like he hadn’t had a great night’s sleep.

“How’s the house hunt going?”

“Hoping to finalise a house today.”

I nodded and we walked into the social club. Sitting at one of the tables was Fred Graham. I sat down in front of him.

“Now then Danny, how excited are you about the season ahead?”

“Extremely, I can’t wait to start.”

“Do you feel confident that you can get off to a good start?”

“Of course I do, what kind of manager would I be if I didn’t. Ok pre-season didn’t bring a victory but we were playing teams from much higher up.”

“You only have 14 players available, will we see some new faces soon?”

I sat back in my chair at this point, trying to formulate an answer. We had let a good chunk of the squad go and were now left with the bones of a squad.

“Yes, you will be seeing new faces, I have a few irons in the fire.”

“Good, what about tactics?”

“As I told you last time we met, we will attack. Simple as.”

“What about Chester?”

“What about Chester? They are on the same level as us, ok there fanbase is a lot larger, but we cannot show them any fear. The Deva, or whatever name it has now, is just another stadium.”

“How do you think there fans will react to you?”

“Honestly, I don’t think they will care about me. I had a good time there, the fans hated me at first, but then that hate turned to apathy.”

“Well that’s all I need.”

Standing up I shook Fred’s hand, and walked over to Billy.

“Right, take the rest of the day off, I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

Billy nodded, and we left the social club, I untied Rowley from outside and led him home.

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Saturday 14th August 2010

My alarm didn’t need to wake me this morning, I had been sat awake since 7am, I had been staring at the television for two hours but I had no idea what had been said. Stepping out of bed, I made sure I put my right foot down first. Stepping across to the wardrobe I stared at the suit, and tracksuit that I had hung up. I couldn’t choose between the two, if I chose the suit, I would look business like, ready to win, someone not to be messed with. If I chose the tracksuit I would look like one of the boys, someone ready to run onto the pitch and play, maybe I would look like Tony Pulis. God no, I grabbed the suit after that thought.

After getting dressed I bounded down the stairs, looking at Rowley, I stroked his head three times. I poured his tin of food into his bowl, and stepped into the kitchen. Grabbing a spoon, I tapped it three times against the side of the bowl. I poured some cornflakes, and then sat on the sofa.

“Right boy, I’ll see you later, wish me luck.”

My response was an uncaring stare, followed by Rowley wandering off to his basket. Turning round I walked out of the house and walked to the ground. As soon as I arrived I entered my office, and sat down wondering what I should be doing, luckily Billy knocked on the door soon after.

“Danny, the kit hasn’t been laid out.”

“Isn’t there a kitman?”

“No, Ken says it’s our job.”

I stood up and walked to the changing room, sure enough the kit was still in the kitbag, grabbing the first shirt, I picked it up and placed it on a hanger, I then placed the hanger on a peg. Billy took the shorts and made sure they were laid out neatly. We repeated this 14 times until there was enough kit for everyone. By the time we had finished, the players had started to arrive.

“Lloyd Rigby,

Lee Woodyatt

Nick Meace

Andrew Teague

Jez Fitzgerald

Dale Whitham

Nathan Fairhurst

Jamie Vermiglio

Jack Dorney

John Cunliffe

Matt Jansen

Subs: Jordan Stepien, Perry Brookbanks, Craig Coates.”

As soon as I had read the teamsheet out, I left the changing room, Billy followed me, and we stood by the side of the pitch.

“Are you sure we should have let all of those players go?”

“Yeah, it’ll all be fine. Anyway if we hadn’t we wouldn’t have a lot of room to manoeuvre in the market.”

“Right, and I’m taking the warm up?”

“You and Matt.”

Bill nodded and jogged away with the rest of the team who had just emerged from the tunnel. As I stood and watched the warm-up I felt the first drops of rain begin to fall, the first drops were soon followed by more. After half an hour, the players jogged back towards the dressing room.

“Right lads, it’s the first game of the season, we owe the people that have come along to watch us a win, be it by 1, 2, 3 or 4 goals we must win, we can win and we will win.”

Andrew Teague led the players out, as I stepped into the tunnel, I looked round for the referee Tim Robinson, he was a tall man, with a close cut haircut, hopefully he would be quite lenient. Curzon Ashton stepped out of their changing room, and lined up in the tunnel. During my time at many of the league clubs I had played for, the teams would have been greeted by a roar from the fans. However we were greeted by a light smattering of applause, and one or two shouts of “Come on you Magpies.”

John Cunliffe and Matt Jansen stood on the centre circle and as soon as Tim Robinson blew his whistle, they kicked off. John immediately passed the ball back to Nathan Fairhurst who lumped the ball forward, in a Tony Adams-ish style.

In the 11th minute Dale Whitham collected the ball on the right hand side of midfield, sprinting down the wing he swung a cross into the middle, Matt met the ball controlled it and sent a volley flying goalwards. The ball smashed off of the crossbar, and landed at the feet of Jamie Vermiglio who passed it wide to Jack Dorney, Jack knocked the ball passed the Curzon right-back and sent another cross into the box, this time it was John Cunliffe that met the ball, and he made no mistake with his header.

As soon as Curzon kicked off they went onto the attack, but our defence stayed strong and met any Curzon attack. Few chances were created following the goal, the only other bright moment was that the rain started to ease up. Tim Robinson, blew for half time, and we entered the changing room.

“Come on! Keep going! We can still get another goal, one – nil is a dangerous scoreline, if we can get another then we can be happy.”

Curzon kicked off and I sat down in my seat, hoping for another goal.

In the 62nd minute, Matt looked across and waved at the bench, to signal that he needed to come off, to be honest I had seen that he was struggling and was preparing to bring him off. As soon as the ball went out of play, I signalled for the ref and sent Jordan Stepien on for Matt Jansen.

Our first bit of luck came in the 65th minute, as Curzon broke on the counter attack and stormed into our half, their right winger whipped in a cross, which Adam Cole met with a header, as the Curzon players and fans started to celebrate, the linesman raised his flag and signalled for offside.

“Come on lads, we need a second!” I shouted.

Our hopes were raised by our luck, and soon Jordan saw a chance cleaned off of the line, Nathan was unlucky not to meet a Dale Whitham cross and Nick Meace was penalised for a foul on the Curzon keeper.

Curzon appeared to have given up, and we began to coast, which almost bit us on the backside in the 91st minute as yet again the linesman saved us, after Wayne Cahill saw his goal ruled out for offside. Following this I put my hands together in silent prayer and prayed for the next two minutes to pass quickly.

As soon as I heard the final whistle I leapt to my feet and celebrated our narrow victory, applauding the 180 people that had turned out to watch us I headed down the tunnel.

Final Score: Chorley 1-0 Curzon Ashton

“Well done guys, enjoy a couple of beers tonight, but remember this is only one step on the road. If anyone living in Chorley is going for a beer, then I will be in the Plough, if you want to join me, then fine, if you don’t want your boss to see you drunk, then avoid it.”

As I left the changing room I high-fived Billy, and invited him for a beer at the Plough, where I knew Melanie and her family would be drinking. He agreed and we headed for the exit.

“Danny! Wait up!”

Turning round I saw Ken walking towards me.

“Well done today, even with 14 players we are strong. Plus we have sold 65 season tickets.”

“Only 65?”

“Yeah, but it’s still money at the end of the day.”

I nodded, “Right we’re going for a beer, care to join us?”

Ken shook his head, “I’ve got to try and get some more money out of some sponsors.”

Walking up the road towards the Plough, we were congratulated on our win by a couple of Chorley fans.

On arrival at the pub, myself and Billy were greeted by a cheer from Melanie and her family, pats on the back followed, and our offers to buy drinks were rejected. In fact I didn’t put my hand in my pocket all night. As I was about to leave, I spotted the Man City fan who had spoken to me the other day.

“Did you come to the game?”

“No. City were on Sky.”

“Well you missed a good game.”

Again he grunted, turning round I took Melanie’s hand and began the walk back to my place. We were greeted by Rowley, who marshalled me over to his bowl, dumping a tin of food into his bowl. I sat on the sofa, as Melanie fetched a bottle of wine from the kitchen. As we settled down for a drink, Rowley finished his food and began to demand that I take him for a walk.

“Are you coming?” I asked Melanie

“Suppose so.” She replied.

Grabbing my coat, I put Rowley on his leash and we went round the block. After half an hour we headed home and finally Melanie and myself were able to have the drink we had been waiting for. Bed soon followed.

Monday 16h August 2010

At 4pm I walked to the social club, I had a meeting with Fred from the Chorley Guardian. There was a buzz around the ground as we were playing local rivals Bamber Bridge in a league match the next day. Bamber Bridge is situated just south of Preston, and is therefore a quick drive up the M61. There was a lot of importance being placed on this fixture, and I knew all about the rivalry between the two sides.

As soon as I walked into the social club I spotted Fred, sat in his usual seat, today he had a pint of Guinness sat in front of him, by the looks of it it was freshly poured as he was still waiting for it to settle. Sitting down in front of him, I waited for him to start the questions.

“Afternoon Danny, do you feel you will be able to continue your good start to the season?”

“Well I hope so, as I want to build a good sequence of results.”

“So this will be your first rival clash of the season, what do these games bring to the league?”

“They add spice and excitement, not that the league is boring.”

“Will the players feel any pressure?”

“Well yes, but the fans will hopefully turn that pressure into a great atmosphere which will really spur them on.”

“But could that pressure lead to players losing discipline?”

“Hopefully not as our best chance of winning is with 11 players on the pitch.”

“So what about yourself? Any nerves?”

“I’ll be honest, there are slight nerves, but I’m going to use that to encourage the players.”

Fred nodded and sat back in his seat, his pint of Guinness had finally settled, and I guessed he wanted to drink it. I extended my hand across the table which he shook, I stood up and left the social club. As I did Ken came up to me.

“Colne, at home.”

“When?”

“Saturday 28th August.”

I nodded, this was excellent news, a home draw in the FA Cup. But then again I didn’t have a clue who Colne actually were.

“Right I’ll see you tomorrow then Danny.”

“Right.”

Tuesday 17th August 2010

At 3pm I found myself in my office, shaking the hand of a new player. Jack Pearson had agreed to join us on a £60 per week, 2 year contract which was welcome news as it pushed the number of recognised first team players up to 13, we would still have to place under 18s on the bench, but only 3 this time. Jack is a 20 year old central defender, and someone I hoped would lead the back line for the next couple of years.

At 5pm we found ourselves on a coach destined for the town of Bamber Bridge, Ken had arranged the coach to try and help with the team spirit, and I must admit it did help, during the drive which was less than 20 minutes in duration, Billy and myself sat at a table discussing possible tactics.

“Do you really want to change anything Danny?”

“Not really, I mean we played well against Curzon, why fix something that isn’t broken?”

“True. Any squad news?”

“Well Dale still seems tired, so I’m going to play Matt on the left and Jack D on the right.”

Billy nodded his approval.

“So did you finalise that house?”

“Fell through at the last moment, I’m looking for somewhere else now.”

“Look I’ve got a spare room, if you want.”

The look on Billy’s face said it all, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so glad.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

“Yeah, excellent, when can I move in?”

“Anytime, tomorrow?”

Before Billy could answer we drew up at Irongate the Bamber Bridge ground. Standing up I turned round and made sure everyone was looking at me.

“Right then! We are guests here, we will be respectful! And if any of you get sent off I will fine you to the highest point.”

The players nodded at me, gathering their things they began to leave the coach and walk towards the changing rooms. Once inside I read the teamsheet.

“Lloyd Rigby

Lee Woodyatt

Nick Meace

Jack Pearson

Jez Fitzgerald

Jack Dorney

Andrew Teague

Jamie Vermiglio

Matt Jansen

Jordan Stepien

John Cunliffe

Subs: Martin Cottage, Kieran Moore, Jake Tuttle, Dale Whitham, Nathan Fairhurst.”

Turning round I pushed the changing room door open, and walked up the tunnel towards the pitch. Walking onto the pitch I stood on the centre circle and looked around at my surroundings. Behind the one goal was what I can only guess was the Social Club, behind the other goal was terracing which appeared to be where the Chorley fans were going to be situated. Running along the one touchline was a grassy bank, and opposite to that was the main stand, which by all appearances was only recently built.

The emergence of the Chorley players for their warm-up broke my train of thoughts, jogging over to them, I watched as Matt and Billy put the players through their paces. All 16 seemed to be energetic and looking forward to the game ahead.

After the warm-up the players gathered in the changing room, it was quite small and the players didn’t have a lot of room to sit.

“This is an extremely important game for our season, it may only be the second game of the season, but this is a confidence booster. We can win this tonight, believe in yourselves!”

Declan Ford banged on the door, making half of the squad jump.

“Right time to go.”

Matt led the team out, and I followed out after them, it was raining, but at least the temperature was better here, it had improved from 7 degrees to 12 degrees Celsius. Standing on the touchline I watched as the Bamber Bridge strikers kicked the game off.

In the 8th minute Lee Woodyatt was booked for a lunge on the Bamber left midfielder, as he began to argue with the ref, I put my hands together in a strangling motion and pointed to him. Looking at me he soon shut up and backed away.

In the 19th minute, Matt Jansen broke away on the left hand side of midfield, charging towards the box he placed a cross into the box for John Cunliffe, unfortunately John’s shot could only find the keeper.

Unfortunately that was the last real move of the first half, sitting down in the dugout, I began to wipe mud off of my shoes. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the programme I had managed to buy, sitting back I began to read. Declan Ford’s whistle disturbed my reading and I headed into the changing room after the players.

“Right, keep your heads up. We are on top here, keep going and turn that dominance into goals.”

Before Declan had the chance to scare us again, Matt led the players out and we prepared for the second half.

In the 55th minute Matt Jansen went down following a heavy tackle from one of the Bamber centre backs. Turning round I told Dale Whitham to get warmed up and ready to go on. As I stood with Dale on the touchline, I watched as John Cunliffe picked up the ball in the penalty area and rolled the ball across the 6 yard box, where a clearly limping Matt Jansen was on hand to smash the ball home. In the passion of the moment I pulled Dale in for a hug.

As soon as the celebrations died down, I replaced Matt with Dale, Dale was to go onto the right hand side of midfield and Jack D was to take Matt’s place on the left.

“Well done Matt, get sat down and rest that leg.”

Taking a mental note I remembered that I still needed to employ a physio.

In the 77th minute I was only able to stand and watch as Nick Meace and Jack Pearson, were caught out by one of the Bamber strikers as Nick played a foolish pass across to Jack, without Jack realising. Luckily Lloyd Rigby was on hand to tip the ball past the post.

In the 83rd minute I switched Jamie Vermiglio and Jez Fitzgerald with Nathan Fairhurst and Jake Tuttle.

In the 90th minute the 4th official held up his board to signal that there would be 3 minutes of extra time to be played.

“It’s just 3 minutes stay alert and focussed.” I muttered under my breath

In the 3rd minute of extra time, Bamber managed to win a corner, every single Chorley player ran back into the box to defend, but Phil Robinson still managed to get clear and head the ball home. Dropping to my knees I punched the ground as the Bamber players, management and fans celebrated their late equaliser.

As soon as we kicked off Declan Ford blew his whistle, heading into the changing room, I swore under my breath repeatedly.

Final Score: Bamber Bridge 1-1 Chorley

“Guys what can I say, we dominated brilliantly, but we were unable to take the 3 points. Pick yourselves up, we can only learn from our mistakes.”

I walked out of the changing room and headed towards the coach, all I wanted now was beer, Melanie and sleep. Unfortunately before I could reach the coach I was accosted by Fred and some other man.

“Bamber Bridge Daily, how important is it to have players that understand the passion of these games?”

He did actually say his name, but I wasn’t listening and I wasn’t going to ask him to repeat himself.

“Yeah, it’s very important that players understand the passion of derby games.”

“Jack Pearson made his debut, how do you feel it went?”

“He was solid, barring one mistake, but he is still learning his trade and needs to keep his feet on the ground.”

Fred obviously had gotten bored of waiting and asked a question.

“You have a home draw in the FA Cup, how will that affect your chances of progressing?”

“It gives an edge, and we will look to exploit that.”

“Finally,” Bamber Bridge Daily man was back, “How will the late equaliser affect you?”

“We will take the positives and learn from the mistakes made during the game. Right that’s it for questions, I’m wanting to get on the coach and get home. Thanks guys.”

Stepping onto the coach I found a seat and sat down. Pulling my phone out of my pocket I texted Melanie to find out where she was.

“Working. X” Came the reply, well at least that decided where I would get some beer.

Wednesday 18th August 2010

At about 10am I was woken by a banging on my front door and my mobile ringing, checking the screen I saw that Billy was trying to contact me. Sitting up I remembered that I had told him he could move in today. Pulling my jeans and a t-shirt on I ran down the stairs and yanked the front door open.

“Sorry Danny, just wanted to get moved in early.”

“No problem, your room is the first one at the top of the stairs, take your stuff up.”

Walking into the living room I looked at Rowley, who stared back at me.

“What a great guard dog you make.”

Rowley stared back at me and let out a single snort. Turning away I walked into the kitchen, and made a mug of tea for myself and Billy, who was still moving his things in.

“Billy? Anything I can grab?”

“No, I’ve got it all.”

“Really? You only went up the stairs 3 times.”

“I’m travelling light, you’ve got to remember I still have my home in Glasgow.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, and sat on the sofa. Leaning back I thought about how much I loved the summer holidays. My thoughts were disturbed once again by my phone ringing, picking it up I answered it.

“Hello?”

“Danny, it’s Ken.”

“Morning Ken, good news I hope.”

“I’m afraid not, 3 players have been arrested.”

“What? What for?”

“It seems they got a bit too drunk last night.”

“Great, who was it?”

My mind went blank, as I listened to Ken list the three players who were in trouble, for their sake I have decided to omit their names, but it surprises me to say that they were some of the more experienced members of the squad. Each was fined 2 weeks wages, and were given a last chance by the club.

At this moment Billy entered the living room, looking rather pleased with himself.

“There’s a mug of tea in the kitchen for you, it’s probably cold.”

“Cheers.”

Grabbing his mug he came back into the living room and sat in one of the armchairs.

“Don’t worry Danny this is only a temporary measure.”

“Take as long as you need. Three of our players have been arrested, all three have been fined 2 weeks wages, and given a last chance by the club.”

Billy nodded slowly, I told him the names of the players and he sighed.

“Well what kind of example is that to show to the younger players?”

“Yeah I know. The worse thing is that the fans will soon start discussing this matter.”

“Well we just have to cross our fingers and hope.”

Going well this. Keep it up.

Chorley's attendances are bigger in real life, mind. Must be your low-scoring style of play!

Thanks! My girlfriend is from Chorley, so I have started to look out for their results, I was disappointed to see that my attendances are a lot lower!

Thursday 19th August 2010

Following yesterday’s bad news concerning the players arrested, I was overjoyed to hear that I would have some good news today. Although it meant leaving my bed, I was happy to head to the ground as I was due to welcome no less than 7 new signings to the club. Ken was already at the ground making them put pen to paper, and I was needed to be on hand to welcome them and run through some press stuff.

On arrival at the ground I found all 7 sat outside my office waiting for me to arrive.

“Morning, look my office is nowhere near big enough for you all, lets go up to the stand, where it will be easier.”

Turning round I walked back towards the stand and all of them followed me, sitting them in the stand I stood in front of them.

“Right then, you are all here because I feel you are the players to lead this club forward. I want to be a league club within 6 years. Ambitious I know, but that is what I want. Now you are here to be those players that help achieve the promotions needed. We have won 1 and drawn 1 so far this season and we sit in 5th position in the league. We play an attractive form of attacking football and I will want you to fit into that. We have training tonight where I will introduce you to the team. Now get to know each other and have a look around Chorley, any problems just give Ken or myself a ring. But before that we have to take some photos for the Chorley Guardian.”

As we stood on the pitch posing for various photographs, I ran through the players’ names and positions in my head:

Dave Watson an 18 year old keeper.

Tom Cox a 19 year old keeper.

Robbie Blackwell a 20 year old right back.

Michael Lawson a 20 year old left back

Danny Murphy an 18 year old central midfielder.

Luke Chapman a 19 year old left midfielder.

Raphael Sylvester a 21 year old (the oldest of the new signings) striker.

As soon as Fred was happy he had gotten the photos he wanted, I was able to dismiss the players and head home.

“Training is at 6:30pm be here on time, or there is a fine to pay!”

Great stuff mate! especially loved the first post.

Thanks! Apologies for another post today! But I hope you all enjoy it.

Friday 20th August 2010

If yesterday was a busy day, then today was destined to be a slow day. Training had gone well for the players yesterday, and they had today to get ready for the match against Warrington on Saturday. A couple of the new lads would be starting the game, which would serve as a reminder to the rest that there positions were not guaranteed, but more importantly I was just glad to have more players to choose from.

During training last night I kept a close eye on the new lads, and watched as they stuck together. The rest of the squad had welcomed them with open arms, but it was obviously useful for them to have each other during training. Personally I was reminded of the time I had joined Wrexham following my 3 year stay at Newtown. I had just finished university, I had trained as a primary school teacher, and I was extremely nervous about making the step up in the leagues as a 21 year old would be. Brian Flynn had brought me in to play in the centre of midfield after I had impressed him and his coaching staff whilst playing for Newtown. But standing in front of the rest of the team as Brian introduced me has got to have been one of the most nerve wracking moments of my life.

“It’s alright boss, we won’t maul him too badly.” A voice from the back had called.

“Yeah, he might come back in more than one piece.” Another had said.

“Oh shut up you lot, right red’s verse blues, Danny join the reds.” Brian had finally said after what had felt like a lifetime.

As I picked up my bib and jogged over to the red team, I heard a member of the blue team whisper. “Watch yourself.”

As I stood in my position I turned round and stared at the blue team, from the kick-off I received the ball and began to adventure into the opposite half, darting past one player, I dodged a tackle, and left the tackler on his backside. Playing a one-two with another member of my team, I advanced on the box, hearing boots coming in my direction I put my foot on the ball and waited, at the last possible moment I dragged the ball back and watched as the player who had warned me, slid through and clattered into Brian who was acting as ref. Flicking the ball up I smashed a volley home, turned round and jogged back.

As I reached my half, I turned round just in time to see Brian send my would be assailant to the dressing room. As he passed me I whispered.

“How was that then?”

Spinning round he advanced towards me in an aggressive fashion, standing as tall as possible I waited for him to attack. Which never came, as Brian and a member of coaching staff intervened and pulled him away. Whilst they were away reading him the riot act, I turned to the rest of the squad and shouted.

“Anyone else with a problem?”

Last post until Thursday!

Saturday 21st August 2010

Having Billy living with me was useful for tactics and advice, as all I needed to do was ask him his opinion as we watched television. We had agreed to keep to the 4-4-2 formation that we had been playing with.

It was still raining, it had been raining for about 2 weeks, there had been odd breaks of sunshine but nothing to signal that it was time for barbeques, but then again this is Britain. The rain would make the pitch slippery which would aid our passing game, but it would also mean that we would have to be careful in the tackle.

As we walked to the ground, we spoke about everything and anything that appeared in our mind. On arrival we walked into the changing room and sorted out the kit for the players who soon began to arrive. Once they were all in the changing room I read the team sheet to them.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Jack Pearson

Nick Meace

Michael Lawson

Jack Dorney

Nathan Fairhurst

Andrew Teague

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Subs: Dave Watson, Dale Whitham, Matt Jansen, Jordan Stepien, Jez Fitzgerald.”

The players who hadn’t been selected left the changing room, and as I walked out to the pitch, I could see them walking towards the social club. Standing on the pitch I looked round, there were a smattering of people in the ground but the majority of them were volunteers.

“Danny!”

Turning round I saw who had called my name, it was Melanie, walking over I could see that she was holding something.

“Hey, I got you something!”

“Yeah?”

Handing me a parcel she stood back and waited for me to open it. As I pulled the wrapping off, I soon revealed a piece of black and white material, lifting it out of the wrapping I watched as it unfolded into a black and white striped tie.

“Thanks, here hold it whilst I take my tie off.”

I took my black tie off and handed it to Melanie, taking the new tie I tied it and made sure it was straight. Melanie put her thumbs up.

“Good?”

“Yeah, it looks amazing.”

“Thanks, here’s hoping it’s lucky!”

Leaning across the pitchside barrier she kissed me.

“Right I’ll be over there, give us a wave during the game.” As she spoke she pointed to the corner by the social club.

Our brief conversation was interrupted by the players emerging from the tunnel to warm up, as they passed some of them wolf-whistled.

“Sorry, who’s volunteering to take the kit home?” I asked.

Standing by the touchline I watched as they were put through their paces, the new lads had started to gel with the rest of the squad, and I was glad to see them joining in with jokes.

Soon we found ourselves back in the changing room, as I looked at the players, I tried to think of some inspirational words, finally I came up with.

“Win.”

“Is that it?” Asked one of the players.

“Yeah, it’s that simple.”

Nathan Fairhurst stood up and turned to the rest.

“Well you heard the boss, let’s win this!”

With that he led the team out, as they passed I could hear them repeating the word win, as if attempting to hypnotize themselves.

I had barely made it to the dugout by the time John Cunliffe opened the scoring, I hadn’t seen the build-up play, but I did see him slide the ball home at the far post.

“What happened?” I asked Billy.

“Luke Chapman got free down the left hand side, and whipped in a cross which eluded everyone except for John.”

Nodding I sat down.

It didn’t take long for the next goal to be scored as in the 3rd minute Raphael Sylvester fired home from the edge of the area. Unfortunately the linesman had ruled him to be offside and Andrew Madley had ruined our celebrations by signalling for a free kick.

Two minutes later we doubled our lead, as Nathan Fairhurst smashed home a header following a Jack Dorney corner, much to the delight of the Chorley fans inside Victory Park.

We added another in the 32nd minute as Raphael finally got his reward for his tireless play, as he slotted home from the edge of the area, following a beautiful piece of skill, as he controlled the ball from a Andrew Teague through ball.

Andrew Madley brought the half to an end, and we headed into the changing room with a 3 goal lead.

“Well, I’m happy. Keep going, don’t get careless, and let’s see if we can score some more.”

As we emerged from the tunnel, I heard the announcer say that there were 190 people in the ground. It was disappointing but it would hopefully improve with the way we were playing football.

9 minutes after the restart I decided to freshen the attack up by replacing Jack Dorney and Luke Chapman with Dale Whitham and Matt Jansen. As both players left the pitch I patted them on the back and congratulated them on their performance.

2 minutes later we were 4 goals up, as Raphael once again displayed a standard of finishing that is rarely found in this league. Once again he slotted home from the edge of the area, but this time his goal followed a wonderful solo run through the Warrington defence.

Standing on the touchline I realised the game was effectively over, and stood and watched the Warrington manager shouting instructions to defend at his players. As I stood I fiddled with my tie and decided that it was the reason we were playing so well.

As I stood with my hands in my pockets, I had bored of playing with my tie, I admired the surroundings and wondered what the ground would look like if we ever reached the football league. The grassy bank opposite to me would have to be turned into a stand, possibly a bank of terracing. Maybe it would be a bit more full.

In the 86th minute Nick Meace went down on the edge of the penalty area, obviously in some pain. The volunteer physio, I hadn’t learnt his name, ran on to the pitch to treat him. As he did he waved to the bench to say that a substitute would be required. Turning round I pointed to Jez Fitzgerald and told him to get on in Nick’s place.

As the last couple of minutes were played out I sat in the dugout next to Billy.

“Couple of pints at the Plough again?”

“Yeah, excellent.”

“Alright, we’ll congratulate these lot and then get drinking. The other thing is Melanie is going to be coming round tonight.”

“Right…”

“Just letting you know.”

“Well it’s your place.”

Andrew Madley’s whistle cut through our conversation, standing up I shook hands with the Warrington manager and headed down the tunnel.

Final Score: Chorley 4-0 Warrington

“I don’t think I need to tell you how well you did today. Enjoy yourselves tonight, I’m proud of each and every one of you.”

Turning around I walked out of the changing room, Billy followed me and we stood in the tunnel.

“Right I believe it is beer o’clock.” I said

“Yeah but first.” As Billy spoke he pointed over my shoulder.

Turning round I saw Fred walking towards me, he was carrying a notepad as always.

“Afternoon Fred, what can I do for you?”

“Hello Danny, Billy. Just three quick questions.”

“Fire away.”

“John Cunliffe’s early goal must have been a bonus for you, how do you feel it affected the game?”

“Well to score in under a minute is usually a good sign of the way the game is going to go.”

“Raphael Sylvester is a recent signing, how do you feel his debut went?”

“Well I don’t think I need to tell you how good he was today.”

“Right last question. What about Robbie Blackwell?”

“Well it’s the same with Raphael, both of them were fantastic today. Thanks Fred. Have a nice night.”

Stepping onto the pitch, I looked for Melanie and her family, spotting them by the social club, I gestured to Billy to follow me, striding across the pitch we hopped the boundary wall which surrounds the pitch.

“So how about that?” I asked.

“Well let’s hope you can win every game like that.” Martin, Melanie’s step dad replied.

I nodded, and put my arm round Melanie.

“This is all thanks to your tie.” I whispered.

Shaking her head Melanie held my hand, maybe my superstitions were a bit too much, but this tie had brought us luck.

Monday 23rd August 2010

I had spent the majority of yesterday nursing a hangover, which made my head feel like it was splitting in two. Billy had driven back to Glasgow late Saturday night, and Melanie and myself were able to spend some time together. Except for when Rowley demanded to be walked.

But today brought more new signings, this time it was only 6 but it meant fresh blood for the squad. As I walked down to Victory Park to meet and greet them, my phone rang.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Danny, it’s Ken.”

“I’ll be there soon.” I responded.

“Ok, but this is about one of your players.”

“Has another one been arrested?”

“No, Curzon have made an offer for Jez Fitzgerald.”

“Right, how much?”

“Nothing.”

“Really, we reject it. Jez is indispensable currently.”

“Shall do.”

With that he hung up and I was able to resume listening to my iPod. On arrival at Victory Park I found all 6 already sat in the stand waiting for me.

“Morning, right I have already made this speech to 7 players last week, but here we go again. You are joining a very confident side at the moment, we won our last game 4-0 and that result has left us 2nd in the league. Now I want to be top of the league and I will be looking for you to help us achieve our aim. As I told the other lads, I want to be managing a league side within 6 years, and I want that side to be Chorley. We play an attractive attacking style of football and you will need to fit into that. Right now we have some press stuff to do.”

Guiding the players to the pitch, I posed in the same way I had posed for the photos last time, and once again my mind wandered. Running over a list of the new players, I hoped that I had brought well.

Kevin McGarry a 20 year old central defender, who can also play at either left or right back.

Tom Moncur a 22 year old central defender, who can play at right back, defensive midfield or central midfield.

George Bowyer a 19 year old right back, who can also play at defensive midfield or central midfield.

Ashley Hodgkinson a 19 year old central defender.

Tom McMahon a 20 year old central midfielder.

Louis Castles a 19 year old right midfielder.

Once Fred was happy I turned to the players, and told them that training was due to take place on Tuesday at 6:30pm. Checking my diary I found that the rest of the day was free so I headed home to relax, and spend some time with Rowley, who must have been feeling lonely.

Wednesday 25th August 2010

At 11:30pm my phone started to ring, sitting up in bed I picked it up and answered.

“Hello?”

“Danny? You ****”

“And a good morning to you Jane.”

“Shut up with your sarcastic ****”

“Wow with a mouth like that I’m wondering why we ever got divorced.”

“Because you cheated on me with that tart.”

I glanced at the sleeping figure next to me, glad that she hadn’t woken up.

“Sorry, but did the waiters in Greece not count?”

“How the **** do you know about them?”

“So it was true. Anyway our ‘marriage’ was over well before that. Right lets cut the amazing conversation, what do you want?”

“You haven’t paid for your son.”

“For the last time, he isn’t my son. Try the fella you were with before me.”

“He looked to you as a father.”

“He set my car on fire.”

“Oh it’s just like you to remember the bad things.”

“Jane, I'm getting bored. For the last time you are not getting a penny from me.”

“Oh **** you.”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Before she could answer I put the phone down. Thinking back to my 4 years with Jane I thought about the day my car mysteriously set ablaze. It was a sunny afternoon in August, I was 36, Jane was 35 and Paul, her son, was 13. Myself and Jane had just gone through our almost daily ritual of arguing over the smallest of things, and Paul was, apparently, in his bedroom. After finishing the argument with Jane, I stepped into the back garden of our 3 bedroom house, to cool down. Looking over the roof of the house I saw a plume of black smoke rising from behind the house. Thinking that a neighbour was having a barbeque I ignored it, and carried on with pacing the garden. It wasn’t until the siren of the fire engine sounded at the end of the street that I realised something was wrong.

“Pauls gone!” Jane shouted.

“Where?”

“How would I know?”

“You’re his mother!”

“Oh **** you.” She liked that phrase.

Being a nosey person I walked round to the front of the house to see what all the commotion was about, as another fire engine and a police car screamed down the road. As I turned the corner of the house I was confronted by the remains of my Ford Mondeo.

“Sir you will have to stand back.” A policeman commanded me.

“But that’s my car.” I stuttered whilst pointing.

“Was your car.”

Shaking my head I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. And then the penny dropped. It had been Paul. He had heard me and his mother arguing, he had then decided to set my car on fire.

“JANE! Your son has set my car on fire!”

“No he hasn’t he wouldn’t do that.” She retorted.

“Explain his disappearance!”

“He’s probably at a friend’s house.”

I didn’t respond, grabbing clothes I shoved them into a hold all. Jane soon appeared in the doorway.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting out of here, this has gone too far now.”

Putting the hold all over my shoulder, I walked passed her. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I turned around.

“I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff once I find somewhere else.”

“No, if you leave, you take your stuff now.”

“Fine.”

Grabbing the yellow pages I found the number of a removals service and phoned them. After a quick phone call, I was told that a van would be round in 10 minutes. Flicking to another page of the yellow pages I found the number of a storage company. After another quick phone call, I had rented a storage unit. As soon as I came off of the phone, the van had pulled up outside. After half an hour my stuff was packed away and I was leaving. As we drove to the storage unit, I had managed to get a lift with the removal men (they were Chester fans), I spotted Paul on the corner of the street, as we drove passed he grinned and stuck his middle finger up at me, and that was the last time I ever saw him.

Thursday 26th August 2010

Melanie dragged me to Manchester today, as we sat on the train we chatted.

“So who was on the phone last night?”

“How do you know? You were asleep!”

“I still heard you.”

“It was Jane.”

“Oh.”

“She wanted money for Paul.”

“Even though he isn’t your son.”

“Exactly.”

“So why has she still got your number?”

“No idea, I guess she just loves to annoy me.”

Melanie nodded and looked out of the window. Soon she looked back to me.

“Danny, where is this going?”

“This train? Manchester.”

“No, stupid, our relationship.”

“Ummm, well, errrr, somewhere good I suppose.”

“Somewhere good?”

“Well yeah, I mean I love you, and I love being with you.”

“And…”

“And. I have no idea.”

“Danny it’s been a year now. Don’t you think we should be living together?”

“Well we could do, but with Billy around it could get awkward.”

“What about when Billy leaves?”

“Sure, that would be amazing. I mean Rowley needs someone to walk him in the day.”

“So is that how you see me? As a dog walker?”

“No, but you would help.”

“You suck at this stuff. What about children? Marriage?”

I went red at this point, and started to wish that the floor beneath my seat would give way.

“Ahh, umm, err.”

“Yes…”

“I would love children. I haven’t got a child of my own and I’m getting old now. So having a child to take care of me in the future would be great.”

“And marriage?”

“Well to be honest after the last time, anyone would be better.”

The look on Melanie’s face let me know I had truly put my foot in it.

“I mean, no would could be as bad.”

Oh god the hole I was digging was getting deeper.

“I’m going to shut up now.”

“You better had.”

“You don’t have a psychopathic son do you?”

Melanie glared at me.

“Just wondering, because if you do I’ll make sure my car insurance covers car fires.”

Luckily just before Melanie had chance to hit me, the train pulled into Manchester Piccadilly, and I leapt out of my seat, almost knocking into a little old lady behind me. Stepping off of the train, I kept an eye on Melanie as we walked down the platform.

“You better buy me something big.”

Saturday 28th August 2010

The shopping trip to Manchester had been an expensive one following my gaffe. But today was the day of our first game in the FA Cup, we would be playing Colne of the North West Counties League. Billy had arrived back from Glasgow on Friday, and we had spent the majority of the day talking about our tactics.

The summer had also finally arrived, it was a beautiful day outside and a dry one, for once. The temperature was around the 24 degree mark.

Enjoying the sunshine Billy and myself walked round to the ground, I had decided to bring Rowley, who would join us in the dugout, I had a better chance of understanding Rowley than I did of Billy.

Arriving at the ground I walked to the pitch and tied Rowley to the dugout, I placed a bowl of water in front of him and instructed him to lie down. Walking back into the changing room I helped Billy to set the kit out for the game. As we worked we were disturbed by a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“Danny? Could you come and greet the Colne team please?” Ken asked.

“Yeah sure. You alright to carry on Billy?”

Billy nodded and I left the changing room, walking down the corridor I soon spotted the Colne team coach pulling up outside. As the players and staff disembarked, I held my hand out for the manager to shake.

“Right if you want to follow me.”

Walking back into the building I directed them to their changing room. Making sure they were okay, I walked back into the home changing room.

“Right, it’s great to see you all ready. Here is the team:

Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Jack Pearson

Andrew Teague

Michael Lawson

Louis Castles

Thomas McMahon

Jamie Vermiglio

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Subs: Dave Watson, Ashley Hodgkinson, Jez Fitzgerald, Jordan Stepien, Tom Moncur, Jack Dorney, Matt Jansen.”

Remembering I had left Rowley outside I headed out to the pitch, Rowley was lay down by the dugout and seemed to be taking it all in. Sitting in the dugout I absently minded stroked Rowley, as the players emerged from the tunnel they looked confused to see a dog.

“Boss, why’s there a dog here?” John Cunliffe asked.

“He’s a motivation tool, if you fail to win, I’ll let him loose on you lot.”

“He looks soft!”

“Yeah, but I’ll throw dog food at you.”

With a laugh they jogged to the centre circle. Standing up from the bench, I fiddled with my tie, I was wearing the one Melanie had brought me. Superstitions ruled my life which was a problem, I mean as soon as I saw a magpie, I would say “Good morning Mr Magpie” and touch a black piece of clothing. So ever since the last game and the 4-0 win I had decided that my tie was lucky, and it had joined a long list of superstitions.

“Preston.” Came a voice from behind me.

Turning round I spotted the Man City fan from the Plough.

“You decided to come along.”

“Well it’s the FA cup and I see you lot could do with all the help for your attendances.”

“Ha, well enjoy the game, let’s hope for a win.”

Before he could respond I walked down the tunnel with the rest of the team.

“It’s that magical time of year! Summer has finally arrived in Chorley, so let’s make the most of it, and let’s make sure our performance matches the weather. Plus this is the FA Cup! Come on we can win this!”

Jamie Vermiglio led the team out, and I followed out after. Declan Ford was the referee for the day, and he led the team out of the tunnel and into the bright sunshine. Taking my seat in the dugout I watched as we kicked off towards the Piling Road end, behind which my house is situated.

It took until the 17th minute for our superiority to shine through, as Raphael Sylvester latched onto an error from one of the Colne centre backs, who tried to use his skills to get out of a tough situated, instead of smashing it up field. As cool as possible Raphael steered the ball passed the keeper, and ran to the corner flag to celebrate.

4 minutes later we doubled our lead, as new boy Louis Castle smashed home a header from a Luke Chapman cross. Leaping up I punched the air, turning round I crouched down and ruffled Rowley’s fur much to his bemusement.

In the 31st minute we found ourselves with a 3 goal lead, as John Cunliffe capitalised on a sliced clearance from the keeper, and from the half way line he sent a shot over the keeper’s head and into the net. Half of the ground just stood and applauded the goal, even the Colne manager clapped despite the fact his team was now 3-0 down.

Unfortunately it couldn’t last, in the 31st minute Jamie Vermiglio brought down a Colne striker within the box, any other time the ref would have waved play on, but today Declan Ford pointed to the penalty spot. Michael Hodson, the fouled player, stood up and took the penalty sending it hard down the left hand side. Lloyd guessed right but was unable to get a hand to it.

It got worse for us, as Tom McMahon, decided he would show us all how not to tackle. Sliding in from the back, he hacked down Michael Hodson. As he walked passed me I whispered in his ear.

“Well ****ing done. Proud of yourself?”

He let his head hang, it was all I could to hold myself back and not slap the boy round the back of the head, but instead I turned back to the football, I told Louis and Luke to stay wide, and told Jamie Vermiglio that he would now be the only central midfielder.

Luckily Declan brought the half to an end before it got worse for us, heading down the tunnel, I prepared myself for the half time talk.

“Right, it’s 3-1, they know they still have a chance, especially now we only have ten men. I’m pleased so far, but the second half will be tough.”

I walked out of the changing room before the players, and stood beside the pitch, Rowley stood up as well and we stared across the pitch. John Cunliffe led the players back out for the second half, and Billy came across to me.

“Danny, we might want to make a change.”

I nodded, looking at the subs bench, it was clear we had the strength in depth, and any of the players on the bench could improve the game.

In the 53rd minute I decided to make the first change, and sent Tom Moncur on in place of Robbie Blackwell, who had begun to look tired. Sitting down on the bench, Robbie patted Rowley on the head, and leant back in his seat.

The game reached a stalemate, but in the 81st minute it was broken by Simon Atkinson who slid the ball home to set up an exciting last 10 minutes. Or so I thought. As in a carbon copy of their earlier move, a minute later Louis and Luke gave us our 2 goal lead back. But by then my mind was made up, turning to Jez Fitzgerald and Ashley Hodgkinson I told them to get ready to go on. And in the 83rd minute I brought Michael Lawson and Louis off. Ashley went into the central defenders position, Tom Moncur moved into central midfield along with Luke Chapman and Jamie Vermiglio, and Andrew Teague moved across to right back.

To my joy we were able to keep Colne at bay, and Declan Ford brought the game to an end after 2 minutes of extra time.

Final Score: Chorley 4-2 Colne

“Well done lads, we showed our superiority and we progressed nicely. Except for the obvious. As always, enjoy a couple of beers tonight.”

Leaving the changing room, I headed to find Tom McMahon. Finding him with the rest of the players in the social club, I approached him.

“Tom a quick word.” I gestured towards the door, we stepped outside.

“What is it boss?”

“Well don’t expect your next two week’s wages. Your tackle was horrendous.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure I set a better example in the future.

“Make sure you do.”

Tom held his hand out and I shook it, walking back towards the main stand, Ken approached me.

“Danny there were 297 people here today! And we won! This can only be good for the future.”

“Yeah, it should hopefully encourage some more people in, Ken I would love to talk but Rowley is over there.” I pointed to the dugout where Rowley was sniffing around.

Ken nodded, and I hopped the pitchside barrier and went and untied Rowley, walking through the tunnel, I found Billy.

“Beer?” He asked.

“Yeah just let me drop the furry one off at home.”

After dropping Rowley off at home, we walked to the Plough. Stepping through the door, we found that it was pretty busy tonight, obviously a lot of the footballing crowd had stopped off. Finding a table Billy sat down, and I went to get drinks.

“Hey Preston.”

Looking up I found myself face to face with Man City fan.

“So, how was that?”

“You lot ain’t bad at all.”

“Are you going to come again?”

“Might do if City aren’t on tele.”

“Good.”

Monday 30th August 2010

I couldn’t believe it when I walked into my office this morning, on my desk was the Non-League Paper, it was opened on the match review pages, and centre of them all was a review on our FA Cup match from yesterday with a picture of the home bench, featuring myself and Rowley. The headline read “Every Dog has its day.” Attached to the paper was a note from Ken, “Danny, I saw this and thought you ought to see it. This is actually good press for the team, maybe bring Rowley along more.” It read. Cutting the page out, I put a piece of blu-tack on the back and stuck it to my computer. I also took a picture of it and sent it to Melanie.

I had only popped into the office on my way into town, and after realising there was nothing for me to do, I walked out. Deciding to take a short cut I walked down the tunnel and across the pitch, much to the annoyance of the groundsman who was busy cutting the grass.

“Hey you! Get off the grass!”

“Sorry George.”

George didn’t reply but I feel he might have muttered something about wanting to run me over with his lawnmower. Hopping the pitchside wall I walked past the social club where I could hear Ken talking to someone, I decided to pop in to say thanks for the newspaper.

“Ken?”

“Yes Danny?”

“Thanks for leaving the paper on my desk.”

“No problem, by the way we have drawn either Mossley or Daventry away in the first qualifying round of the FA Cup. I would like a run in the FA Cup, it would be amazing if we could reach the first round. But I know the league is more important.”

“Right.”

With that I left the social club, and walked away. My mind now filled with thoughts on how to create a run in the FA Cup.

Tuesday 31st August 2010

I arrived at the ground at 4.30pm we were due to leave for Ossett at 5pm, I was annoyed that the league had scheduled this game for a Tuesday night, seeing as how it would take us an hour and sixteen minutes, to get there in the M61 and M62.

I was also going to be assistant managerless tonight, as I had sent Billy to Daventry to watch Daventry and Mossley in there replay match in the FA Cup preliminary round. He was due to text me when he knew the final score, so that I would be aware of whom we were facing.

The coach ride there was long and boring, I sat at the front on my own, and read through a book on motivational quotes, to inspire the team in our match today, unfortunately none of them struck me as applicable, and I closed the book disappointed. As we arrived at Ossett we stepped off of the coach and headed straight to the changing room, at least it was dry tonight, and the temperature had settled at a comfortable 11 degrees Celsius.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Jack Pearson

Andrew Teague

Michael Lawson

Louis Castles

Nathan Fairhurst

Jamie Vermiglio

Jack Dorney

John Cunliffe

Matt Jansen

Subs: Dave Watson, Tom Moncur, Luke Chapman, Raphael Sylvester, Nick Meace. Matt, you will be leading the warm up, I will be on hand to assist.”

Walking out of the changing room I stood on the pitch and looked at my surroundings. I emerged behind the goal, to my left was a covered terrace, also to my left was the main stand, from where I was stood it didn’t look very big, walking towards the dugouts I noticed another small covered terrace behind the other goal. Sitting down in the dugout I waited for the teams to emerge. The warm-up had been quick and fast paced, I had put the goalkeepers through their paces, whilst Matt worked with the rest of the squad. Entering the changing rooms, I looked at the players.

“Now I read a book on motivational quotes, but I couldn’t find one that applied. So just go out there and get the win we deserve. Let’s take the 3 points back to Lancashire.”

“Boss don’t you mean Chorley?” Jack Pearson asked.

“Chorley is in Lancashire, don’t you know about the war of the roses?”

Jack shook his head.

“Never mind just win the game, and I’ll buy you a book as a present.”

Still laughing Jamie Vermiglio led the team out, the referee for tonight’s game was Neil Swarbrick, and I hoped he would be lenient.

As we walked out I noticed how sparsely populated the ground was, for some reason I felt disappointed, however there was a small group if Chorley fans gathered in one corner of the ground, which was good to see.

The game turned scrappy early on, as Ossett were desperate to halt our good run of form and we were desperate to continue our good run of form. Our break came in the 32nd minute, as whilst I was checking my phone, Neil Swarbrick blew for a foul in the box, sensing that he had given a free kick to the keeper, I didn’t look up. It was only when the rest of the dugout started to celebrate that I realised we had scored. Turning to Raphael Sylvester who was sat next to me, I whispered.

“Who scored?”

“Matt Jansen, scored a penalty, boss. Didn’t you see?”

Shaking my head I turned back to the football.

Unfortunately I did see the equaliser, as Francis Barry netted a header, much to our frustration, it had come against the run of play, and it was clear to see that Jack P was annoyed at himself for letting Francis get away from him.

And that was it for the first half, as we walked in at the break I patted Jack P on the back, and said.

“Remember you get a book if we win.”

Looking at me he grinned. As we entered the dressing room, everyone sat and looked at me.

“We can win this, let’s do it! For Jack P, who will get a book on the War of the Roses if we win! Let’s do it for Jack P and his education! Now stretch, take on fluids and relax.”

As soon as we kicked off, John Cunliffe ran straight through the Ossett defence and chipped the ball over the keeper’s head. Jumping up I bashed my head on the dugout. Wincing I rubbed my head.

In the 55th minute, I replaced Louis Castles with Luke Chapman, and moved Jack Dorney to right midfield.

Ten minutes later, captain for the day Jamie Vermiglio found himself in the referee’s book, and a yellow card was flashed at him, following Jamie nearly ripping the shirt off of an Osset player’s back.

In the 70th minute I decided to replace Robbie Blackwell with Tom Moncur, Robbie had been looking tired on Saturday and now he looked exhausted.

My last substitution took place in the 82nd minute, as Nick Meace replaced Michael Lawson, and Andrew Teague took over at left back. As soon as Nick entered the pitch, Tom Moncur took a throw in on the right hand side, the ball landed at the feet of Jack D who whipped a cross into the box, controlling the ball John Cunliffe dispatched an unstoppable volley into the back of the net.

But bad news usually follows good, and in the 88th minute Matt Jansen was forced to hobble off through injury. Which left us with only ten men on the pitch, luckily Ossett couldn’t make their one man advantage count and we made it through to the final whistle.

Final Score: Ossett Albion 1-3 Chorley

“Congratulations by winning you have cost me about £15 and have helped Jack P earn a book. Beware Jack P there will be a quiz before our next game in Yorkshire, or against a team from Yorkshire.”

As I was speaking my phone vibrated, pulling it out of my pocket I saw that Billy had text me, reading the text I turned back to the squad.

“Guys, shut up for a second. In the first qualifying round of the FA Cup, we have drawn, Daventry away. Daventry beat Mossley 2-0 in their game tonight. Right get changed quickly, the last person has to bring the kit out with them. I’ll see you on the coach.”

Saturday 4th September 2010

The week had flown past since the last match, days had blended into one another, and my life seemed to revolve around Rowley, school and training. I was glad that I would have the Sunday off, before starting school again on the Monday, and travelling to Garforth on the Tuesday.

But back to today, Salford were the opposition for today’s match. They sat comfortably in 8th position, and are managed by Rhodri Giggs, Ryan’s brother.

It was another dry day, with a temperature of 27 degrees. Following Ken’s words from last Saturday’s home game, I dragged Rowley along with me again, he was going to take his position next to the home dugout once again. Once I arrived at the ground I walked straight to the side of the pitch and tied Rowley to the dugout. Walking back into the changing room, I began to help Billy with the laborious task of putting the kit out.

“Danny, I might have found a house.”

“Yeah, where?”

“Well you must have seen the signs for the house two doors down from yours.”

“Really? But that place is for sale, I thought you only wanted to rent.”

“Well, we decided we could afford both, we will rent the house in Glasgow out and use the money generated there to pay the mortgage.”

I nodded.

“But nothing is set in stone yet, so you haven’t gotten rid of me yet.”

I smiled, and placed the last shirt on a hanger. As soon as I had done that, the first players began to arrive, once all the players were in I read the team sheet out.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Jack Pearson

Nick Meace

Jez Fitzgerald

Louis Castles

Tom McMahon

Tom Moncur

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, Andrew Teague, Jack Dorney, Jordan Stepien, Ashley Hodgkinson.”

Once I had read the names out, I left the changing room and grabbed a bowl of water for Rowley. Walking to the dugout I placed the ball in front of me.

“I thought the picture was photo shopped.” Said a voice next to me.

Turning round I found myself face to face with Rhodri Giggs.

“No it’s real.”

“So does he come to every home game?”

“He will do until we lose.”

“Ahh, so today will be his last home game.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Before he could say another word the teams emerged from the tunnel to begin their warm ups. Sitting in the dugout, I placed a hand on Rowley’s head, and said.

“I think you’ll be here for a lot longer boy.”

Matt and Billy led the warm up, and I enjoyed the bright sunshine, as I sat in the dugout, Melanie passed me a cup of tea and a bottle of Diet Coke. As I watched her walk back towards her family, I thought about the fact that I could soon be living with her, which for some reason didn’t scare me. Moving in with Jane had terrified me, but that was probably because her son was a psycho. My thoughts were interrupted by the players jogging back down the tunnel.

“We can win this, we know we can. Let’s get out there and win. Rhodri Giggs thinks today will be Rowley’s last in the dugout, let’s show him how wrong he is.”

John Cunliffe stood up and led the team out, as he neared the door he shouted.

“For Rowley!”

On the other side of the door Declan Ford stood looking very confused. Shaking his head, he led the teams onto the pitch. Salford kicked off towards the Piling road end, and I settled into the dugout.

In the 10th minute, Louis Castles once again teamed up with Luke Chapman, as Louis headed home a Luke Chapman cross.

8 minutes later, we were forced into our first substitution as Raphael Sylvester hobbled off to be replaced by Jordan Stepien.

Jordan’s inclusion in the game looked to be a good thing two minutes later as he rolled the ball across the penalty spot for John Cunliffe to smash home.

In the 29th minute Louis set up a header for Nick Meace, following a corner. Looking up I looked at the away dugout where Rhodri was bellowing orders at his players. Sitting back I enjoyed the feeling of being 3-0 up.

12 minutes later, I wasn’t able to enjoy the feeling of being 3-0 up, as John Cunliffe rifled home a shot from the edge of the area to now put us 4-0 up within 45 minutes.

Heading into the changing room, I stretched and touched the top of the door as I walked in, I felt completely relaxed, and honestly couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I want 6. Go score 2 more goals.”

“Is that it boss?” John C asked.

“Yes, apart from well done.”

The players nodded and smiled and proceeded to take on water. Fifteen minutes later we walked back onto the pitch.

“Boss will I be getting my book soon?”

“Yes Jack, you will get it before the Garforth game, I will then give you a quiz to do.”

Laughing Jack ran onto the pitch, what he didn’t realise was that I was deadly serious about the quiz.

In the 54th minute, Luke Chapman, sped towards the edge of the area, instead of crossing, which nearly everyone expected him to do, he would his foot back and shot, sending the ball crashing into the top right hand corner.

“Jesus, if that isn’t goal of the year, then I know nothing about football.”

“I agree Danny that was beautiful.”

In the 73rd minute, a former Shrewsbury Town player, popped up to score a consolation goal for Salford. Jody Banim found himself with too much time and too much space within the box, picking his corner he slotted the ball home, picking the ball out of the net he ran back to the centre circle and placed the ball down.

“Bit late for a comeback isn’t it?” I whispered to Billy.

“Stranger things have happened. Maybe we should make a sub.”

In the 80th minute I replaced Robbie Blackwell and Louis Castles with Andrew Teague and Jack Dorney.

2 minutes later Jez Fitzgerald found himself in the referee’s book, following one too many fouls.

But none of that mattered when, after 3 minutes of extra time, Declan Ford brought the game to an end.

Final Score: Chorley 5-1 Salford

“Well I said I wanted 6. But well done, we played them off of the park. I believe Rowley will be joining us for the next home game. Enjoy your night.”

And with that I left the changing room, Billy followed me out.

“Billy who washes the kit?”

“I believe it goes to a local laundrette.”

“Well we put it out, so who collects it in?”

“Must be one of the players.”

Before I could respond, Fred approached us.

“So this is the famous Rowley. Named after Arthur Rowley?”

“Yes.”

“Right, I have some questions for you.”

“Fire away.”

“Are you invincible currently? I mean no team can touch you at the moment.”

“Well I would like to say yes, but that would be tempting fate. I will go with hopefully we can keep this run going.”

“But what about over-confidence? Could that be a bad thing?”

“No. Each win brings more confidence, more confidence brings more displays like today.”

“Nick Meace was awarded the man of the match award. How do you feel about his performance today?”

“If you asked the 180 people here today to describe his performance they would all use the same word. Flawless.”

“Today has seen you go top of the league. Does that bring extra pressure?”

“Well yes, everyone will be out to get us, and we just have to keep an eye on our back.”

Rowley began to whine at this moment and I apologised to Fred and walked him, Rowley, outside. As we stepped outside I heard Ken call my name.

“Danny!”

“Yes Ken?”

“Just some news, today will be Tom McMahon’s last game for two games. The FA have imposed a 2 game ban on him following his red card against Colne.”

I nodded.

“Also, Peter Dugmore has agreed to join as your physio, he will be here on Tuesday.”

“Great, thanks Ken.”

Walking home I dropped Rowley off and headed out to the Plough with Billy. Spotting Melanie, I walked up to her and whispered in her ear.

“Billy has got an offer in for the house two doors down from mine. Meaning he might move out soon.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but I was wondering, would you like to move in with me, when he moves out?”

Melanie looked at me open mouthed.

“Yes I’m being grown up, and asking you.”

“Well yeah, I would love to.”

She threw her arms around me and we hugged.

“Right, what can I get you to drink?” I asked.

Tuesday 7th September 2010

Again I found myself questioning the league’s fixture list, as we found ourselves playing Garforth away from home on a Tuesday night. It would take us 1 hour and 15 minutes to get there, and the same to get back. Meaning it would be about 11.30pm by the time we got back. Anyway we were due to meet at 5pm at the ground. As I passed Billy’s house I knocked the door and found myself face to face with a woman.

“Hi is Billy here?”

“Yes, you must be Danny. I’m Maureen his wife.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Same, I’ll just get him.”

I stood at the door waiting for either Billy or Maureen to return. I was soon greeted by Billy, he shouted his goodbyes to Maureen.

We soon arrived at the ground and boarded the coach, surprisingly we were the last to arrive. Walking down the aisle I stopped by Jack P. Pulling a book out of my bag I handed it to him.

“Here’s the book I promised.”

“The War of the Roses for Dummys?”

“Yep, enjoy.”

The rest of the lads enjoyed a laugh at Jack as I walked back to the front of the coach and sat down. The coach ride was boring as we spent most of our time on the M62, and after 70 miles of motorway I had become fed up. I had heard of managers that would arrive in a town before their players, and would look around, but sightseeing had never been my thing, and I seriously doubted I would find anything interesting in some of the locations we would be visiting. Finally we arrived at the Wheatley Park Stadium, jumping out of my seat I raced off the coach, and made my way to the changing room. Grabbing the shirts of the bag I threw them at the players as I read their names out.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Nick Meace

Jack Pearson

Michael Lawson

Louis Castles

Andrew Teague

Jamie Vermiglio

Jack Dorney

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, Tom Moncur, Luke Chapman, Matt Jansen, Ashley Hodgkinson.”

Leaving the changing room I decided to go and have a look at the Wheatley Park Stadium. As I stepped onto the pitch I found myself staring at 3 sides of open standing, no terracing or seating just open standing. Turning round I found myself looking at quite an odd small structure, which provided the only seats. The dugouts were situated in front of this stand.

But instead of sitting in the dugout, I walked towards the half we would be warming up in, and flicked one of the balls into the air, controlling it, I juggled it for a couple of seconds, setting myself up I smacked the ball into the back of the net. Hearing applause I looked towards the main stand, where I saw the players had emerged from the tunnel and had been watching me.

“Thanks lads, now get warmed up.”

As they went about their warm up, I walked around making sure all of the players were focussed. At 7.30pm we walked back to the changing rooms.

“As I have said before every game this year, we can win this. Yes Garforth are 3rd in the league, but that means they are 2 places below us and therefore are beatable. Let’s get out there and show everyone why we are the league leaders.”

We stepped out into a breezy September night, it was warmish but nothing to get excited about, as I settled in the dugout, Andrew Madley started the first half.

In the 26th minute Peter Dugmore was required to race onto the pitch to treat Jack Dorney.

“Hey, at least we have the fastest physio.” Billy whispered to me.

“God, has this game become so boring that we are now racing the physios?”

Billy laughed, as I watched Peter, I saw him wave to signal that Jack couldn’t continue, nudging Luke Chapman, I told him to get on the pitch. Jack walked, hobbled, down the tunnel, to continue to receive treatment.

4 minutes later John Cunliffe found himself receiving a yellow card for pulling the shirt of a Garforth defender.

Not to be outdone Michael Lawson also received a yellow card in the 40th minute for exactly the same reason.

The game had almost become as boring as the journey here. I was actually glad to hear the half time whistle.

“Right, who wasn’t listening to me? We can win this game. Just believe in yourselves. John, Michael you need to watch yourselves.”

Heading back out to the dugout, I decided who I would be replacing, some of the players were looking tired, and I began to feel as if I needed to find a fitness coach.

In the 53rd minute I told Tom Moncur and Matt Jansen to get ready, as I stood with them waiting for a break in the game, we watched as Louis Castles bundled home a scrappy goal, which should have been easily cleared by a Garforth defender, but a goal is a goal. But soon Louis and Robbie found themselves replaced by Tom and Matt. John Cunliffe moved to the right midfield position.

Our joy was short lived as in the 59th minute, Thomas Cooper Richards found himself with the ball and acres of space on the edge of the area, setting himself up he sent a shot flying into the back of the net.

Following the equaliser we piled forward looking for a way to get back into the lead, but the Garforth defence held strong and the game petered out into a stalemate, and I sighed and slumped in the dugout. As Andrew Madley blew the whistle to signal the end of the game, I stood up and walked to the dugout.

Final Score: Garforth 1-1 Chorley

“At least we are still unbeaten in the league, although now I have said that. Anyway we were unlucky out there, and we need to pick ourselves back up and continue with our season. Now I’ll see you on the coach, the last one out needs to bring the kit.”

As I opened the door, Peter stopped me.

“Danny, Jack will be out for about 8 weeks with a sprained ankle, he knows this and is determined to get better soon.”

“Thanks Pete, is he on the coach?”

Peter nodded, and I left the changing room. Sitting on the coach I waited for the players to hurry up and leave the changing room. Jack had found a seat on his own and had placed headphones in his ears. He was staring out of the window and looked pretty annoyed with the world.

I've been to Garforth. Horrible ground.

Good progress on this, ST.

Developing a nice story here, keep it up!

Thanks guys!

Thursday 9th September 2010

Since Billy left, Melanie had been pestering me to keep my promise and to let her move in, and late last night I had finally caved in. Unfortunately I was at work today, but I had left her with the keys to the house. Her step-father was helping her, and she kept me up to date with all of her progress. Sitting in my office at school I flipped through a couple of files and checked my emails. I was due to take the school football team for training after school. The day passed pretty quickly, I was called into a year 5 class to deal with a difficult child and that was the only exciting part of my day before taking the football team.

Walking out to the pitch I looked at the children assembled in front of me, most of them were wearing the shirts of local Premiership teams, a couple had Preston shirts on, but there was one child, just one, wearing a Chorley shirt. Setting them off on a passing exercise I turned to the child in the Chorley shirt.

“It’s good to see someone supporting their hometown team.”

“I only watch them because my dad makes me.”

“Well stick with us, we are going places.”

He looked at me blankly as if he didn’t believe me. Turning away I watched as one child managed to over hit a pass, causing another child to duck quickly. Sighing I ran a hand over my face.

“Right stand in a line. A straight line.”

Walking up the line I gave the children a number each.

“Number 1s get a red bib, number 2s get a yellow bib.”

I watched as the children organised themselves into teams, I was confronted by two teams with 10 strikers each.

“Well it’s good to see goalkeepers, right I want 4 defenders on each team, 4 midfielders and 2 strikers. And don’t fight!”

Soon the children organised themselves into positions, blowing my whistle I watched as the red team raced into a 2 goal lead. Soon the yellow team made a comeback but it wasn’t enough to stop the red team from winning. Sending the children home with their parents, I gathered the equipment and locked it in the shed. Heading home I opened the door, and was confronted by chaos.

“What has happened here?”

“Oh, that’s just all of my stuff.”

“Alright, where’s Rowley?”

I soon had my answer as a pile of clothes began to move around the room, lifting the clothes off of him I apologised for the mess.

“Ummm Melanie, could you get this cleaned?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll do it.”

Sunday 12th September 2010

I was glad to escape the house today, whilst it had been half tidied up it had slowly started to take a feminine feel and every day I was confronted by a new piece of furnishings. My football shirts were under a constant threat and I was fighting tooth and nail to keep them where they belonged. But today was the day we played in the First Qualifying round of the FA Cup, we were due to travel to Daventry United, which was just east of Coventry, it was going to take us 2 hours and 40 minutes to get there from Chorley, I had googled it in the week, it was an 141 mile trip which would take us down the M6. My only concerns for the day, were that the trip would affect the players badly, and that my house would be completely unrecognisable.

Daventry United were in the Hereward Teamwear United Counties Premier Division, which must win the prize for the longest league name, and I hoped that our higher league standing would lead us to an easy victory. Sitting on the coach, I read a book, Billy was asleep and the players were either playing a card game, listening to music or playing on portable game devices.

Stepping off the coach we looked at our new surroundings at Daventry’s home, the Communications Park, I couldn’t help but wonder which Communication they were talking about.

We were greeted by the Daventry chairman and shown to the changing room. Looking at the players I read the team sheet.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Nick Meace

Jack Pearson

Michael Lawson

Louis Castles

Nathan Fairhurst

Andrew Teague

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Matt Jansen

Dave Watson, Ashley Hodgkinson, Jamie Vermiglio, Jordan Stepien, Tom Moncur, Jez Fitzgerald, Raphael Sylvester.”

Stepping out of the changing room, I stood beside the pitch, wondering what on earth must have been happening at my house. As I stood and watched the players warm up, I noticed that the ground was filling up pretty quickly, there was a small pocket of Chorley fans all stood in a cluster, but I spotted people in Coventry shirts, as well as Daventry shirts, filling the ground. Heading back to the changing room, I decided on what to say.

“Right this is a winnable game, but we need to be respectful, just because they are a league or two below us doesn’t mean we can walk this. We need to take every chance that comes our way, we need to score, score and score some more. Now let’s do this!”

Matt Jansen lead the players out and I watched as they went. I stayed sat in the changing room for a couple of seconds.

“Are you coming?” Billy asked.

I stood up and nodded, for some reason I felt nervous.

Sitting down I tried to settle, but couldn’t and found myself pacing the touchline, like a caged tiger. In the 2nd minute Louis Castles broke through the Daventry defence following a through ball from Nathan Fairhurst, slamming the ball home he wheeled away to celebrate, but soon he noticed the linesman, and the fact he had his flag raised.

But 3 minutes later we took the lead we deserved, as John Cunliffe rose the highest to head home a Matt Jansen cross. Matt had broken down the left hand side and had whipped an inch perfect cross into the box.

Matt Jansen doubled the lead in the 14th minute, as he rounded the keeper to slot the ball home, but still I couldn’t relax.

My fears were proved right as in the 19th minute Carl Andrews fired the ball home from the edge of the area. He had found himself in acres of space and I could swear I swore him lick his lips at the prospect of such an easy goal.

9 minutes later John Cunliffe decided to get himself into the referee’s book, as he impeded the Daventry goalkeeper at a corner, he had also been involved in pushing and shoving which had gotten out of hand.

Fortunately the rest of the half passed without incident and we walked down to the changing rooms.

“Keep going, just because we hold a lead, it doesn’t mean we can sit back and relax, we need another goal, maybe even 2. We can do this!”

Matt led the players back out again for the second half. I began to pray that we wouldn’t have to go to a replay.

Robbie Blackwell started the half by getting himself booked for hacking down a Daventry striker, sighing I rubbed my face.

Just 5 minutes into the second half, Daventry pulled level, as Jamie Stevenson found himself in the same amount of space as Carl Andrews, as he pulled back his foot, I had already turned away in disgust, I knew he had scored as I watched the Daventry fans celebrate.

7 minutes later Matt Jansen argued his way to a yellow card, pointing to Raphael and Jez I told them to get warmed up, and in the 67th minute they replaced Matt and Luke.

I used my last substitution in the 79th minute as I replaced Andrew Teague with a fresh pair of legs. Tom Moncur was the man who replaced him.

Standing on the touchline I yelled for the players to get forward and to get another goal, but all I received was an injury to Louis Castles in the 91st minute. Getting frustrated I walked down to the changing room before the final whistle. The players soon joined me.

Final Score: Daventry United 2-2 Chorley

“Well I’m sorry to say but we will now have another game, an extra fixture in the season. This could have easily been avoided if you had taken all of the chances that had presented themselves to you. But you didn’t and now we have to play them again. Get changed and get on the coach.”

I left and sat on the coach, I couldn’t wait to get home and have a beer.

Arriving home I headed straight for the fridge, opening it up I searched for beer, looking round I could see none. Stepping back I shouted up the stairs.

“Melanie, where’s the beer?”

“I drank it!” Came the reply.

“Did you buy more?”

“Nope.”

Great well that was my plan for a beer ruined, sitting down on the sofa, I had to move numerous cushions, I looked for Rowley, spotting him in his basket I called him over. As he stood I noticed something was different, as he got closer I soon realised.

“Melanie! Why are there bows and ribbons in Rowley’s fur?”

“Because he looks pretty.”

“He’s a dog! Not a dress up toy!”

There was no response and I quickly pulled the ribbons and bows out. As I did Rowley looked at me as if to thank me. Leaning back on the sofa I turned the television on and zoned out.

Wednesday 15th September 2010

Today we were due to welcome Daventry United back for our replay, of the FA cup 1st qualifying round match. But before that I had to get through school. Standing in front of the whole school during assembly I held a Chorley shirt in front of the children.

“Does anybody know which team this is?”

A couple of hands rose, but not as many as I had hoped.

“Right, you in the front.”

“It’s Chorley. My dad says they are rubbish.”

“Right, this is a Chorley shirt.” I completely ignored the other comment. “Does anybody know why I might be telling you about Chorley?”

I was greeted by a sea of blank faces.

“Ok, let’s try this who is the manager of Chorley?”

Again blank faces.

“He might be closer than you think.”

A single hand rose.

“Yes you.”

“Is it you sir?”

“Yes. And tonight we are playing Daventry United in a replay of our FA cup 1st qualifying round match, and I would like to see as many of you as possible. Bring your mum, dad, brother, sister, whoever! Right assembly dismissed.”

For the rest of the day I had children asking everything about the match tonight, from how much the tickets were to whether there were mascots. By the end of the day I was regretting ever mentioning the fact that I was Chorley manager.

Walking out of school I headed home to collect Rowley, who would once again be joining us in the dugout. Melanie was going to be attending the game and I would also be picking her up. It had been strange having a woman living with me, I had become use to having my own space and being able to keep the house the way I like it. Now I couldn’t. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Entering the house I was greeted by Melanie leaping at me and embracing me in a hug which could have broken bones.

“Hey! I missed you today.” As she spoke she pouted.

“I missed you as well.”

“Rowley missed you too, he says he doesn’t like it when you leave.”

“Is that Rowley speaking or you? Because Rowley seems pretty cool with the arrangement of me going to work and him having the house.”

Melanie shrugged and grabbed her coat. I stepped passed her and clipped Rowley onto his lead.

“Should you have some food?”

“Melanie, I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t inject I won’t need to eat. And if I feel as if my blood sugar is low, I will eat something.”

Melanie nodded and we stepped onto the street, she pulled the door closed and we walked hand in hand to Victory Park. Leaving her at the main entrance I led Rowley to the dugout, and then walked back to the changing room to put the shirts out.

Once the task was completed the players began to show up, sitting down on the benches they looked at me waiting for me to give them the team news.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Nick Meace

Jack Pearson

Jez Fitzgerald

John Cunliffe

Tom McMahon

Jamie Vermiglio

Matt Jansen

Jordan Stepien

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, George Bowyer, Danny Murphy, Luke Chapman, Tom Moncur, Dale Whitham, Ashley Hodgkinson.”

We had a lot of tired people within the squad and I had decided to leave them out, which had led me to play John Cunliffe on the right side of midfield, it was a position he had played in before, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I had made the right choice in leaving Louis Castles out altogether.

Dismissing my thoughts I headed out to the side of the pitch, it was a breezy night, but luckily it was dry. The players emerged soon after out of the tunnel and I stood and watched them as they warmed up. The reaction to Rowley was the same as always, home fans and players would acknowledge him and then carry on with what they were doing, but the away fans and players were amazed to see a dog in the dugout. Seeing a couple of Daventry fans behind my dugout, pointing excitedly at Rowley I turned round and said.

“He knows more about football then I do, he is actually the reincarnated spirit of a famous manager.”

The Daventry fans laughed and moved on. I looked at Rowley.

“So only we know the truth.”

He leaned his head to one side and I could of swore he raised an eyebrow at me. Our staring match was broken by the players heading down the tunnel. Walking after them I waited until they were all sat down and then started my team talk.

“We owe ourselves a victory here, we let ourselves down on Saturday and now is the time to rectify that, and to get the win. Now we need to remain sensible at the back, whilst taking our chances in front of goal.”

All of the players nodded,

“Now lead them out Matt!”

As we stepped outside and into the tunnel I noticed that Andre Marriner would be the man in charge of tonight’s match. Stepping out into the breezy September night, I prayed that we would progress through the competition and at least reach our minimum expectations for the competition.

My hopes seemed to be dashed in the twelve minute as Jez Fitzgerald hacked down a Daventry winger, he was lucky to stay on the pitch, as Daniel Wilcox stepped up to strike the penalty, I looked down at the ground, I glanced up just in time to see Lloyd Rigby dive to the right and incredibly get a hand to the penalty. Jumping up I cheered the fact he had saved the penalty.

However our luck took a nose dive as in the 17th minute Matt Jansen was, once again, forced to limp off, I replaced him with Luke Chapman, who I had wanted to save.

But 9 minutes later I soon realised that it was a good thing that Matt had become injured, as Luke swung the corner in for Nick Meace to head home.

The first half fizzled out after our goal as we defended to keep the lead. Heading back into the changing room, the players seemed pretty pleased with themselves.

“Right well done, we have a lead, but not a good enough lead. It’s all well and good defending like that, but the best form of defence is attack. We need to get forward and score another goal. Come on! We can do this!”

John Cunliffe led the team back out, and I took my position in the dugout next to Rowley.

The 56th minute turned out to be a very busy minute for us, as I told Dale Whitham to get ready to come on in place of John Cunliffe who had just picked up a yellow card for a ridiculous tackle. But John just before he was replaced swung in a cross for Raphael to head home. For a reward I replaced John with Dale. Jamie Vermiglio took the captain’s armband.

In the 60th minute Jack Pearson mistimed a tackle and brought one of the Daventry strikers down. Andre Marriner ran over and flashed a yellow card at him.

In the 70th minute I decided to take Tom McMahon off and replace him with Danny Murphy, who needed some game time.

The game seemed to be heading towards a stalemate, in the 84th minute Jez Fitzgerald picked up the yellow card he deserved earlier in the game.

But in the 89th minute Jamie Vermiglio scored what must be one of the luckiest goals ever seen, as he mishit a cross which happened to soar over the head of the Daventry goalkeeper and into the back of the net. Andre brought the game to an end a minute later and I walked down the tunnel a happy man.

Final Score: Chorley 3-0 Daventry United

“See how hard was that? Well done! We’ve progressed to the 2nd qualifying round of the FA cup, and if we keep going this way we may end up with another, more famous United. Great work tonight!”

On second thoughts maybe I shouldn’t have said what I said, but it was too late now it was out of my mouth and now the squad were dreaming about walking out at Old Trafford.

Leaving the changing room I went and fetched Rowley, as I walked through the stand, I saw Billy.

“Plough?” He asked.

“Probably shouldn’t I’ve got school in the morning.”

“Ha. One day they’ll let you leave!”

I smiled, but before I could respond I spotted Ken walking towards me.

“Danny, we have drawn Arlesey Town in the next round, we are playing away on the 25th September. Plus there were 310 people here tonight!”

So maybe my speech at school had worked, maybe I should try and find out who had come along tonight and give them a prize.

“Ken, crazy idea here, but I work at a school, now that is a lot of children who have the potential to become the future supporters of this great club. Maybe we could have a ‘fan day’ where children get in for free when accompanied by a paying adult. And to add extra incentive cut the entrance fee in half.”

“But, that’s a lot of money to lose.”

“Wait, hear me out. With more people coming through the turnstiles, that will mean more people buying drinks, food, programmes etcetera. Which should cover and maybe go above the normal gate receipts. Plus if we put on a good show then maybe half or more of those people will come back, paying full price which will mean more money.”

“Right, that sounds brilliant. Let me have a think about it, I’ll get back to you.”

Ken turned and walked away, and I was left with Billy and Rowley.

“Danny, you should give motivational speeches.”

“I’m a teacher, I just know how to do these things.”

With that Billy, Rowley and myself left the ground and walked home.

Friday 17th September 2010

Friday, wonderful Friday, the end of the school week and the eve of weekend football, the most glorious day in the week is Friday. I already had one eye on the can of beer in the fridge, the one I had hidden from Melanie. Maybe I would go for a couple with Billy, Maureen and Melanie. But then I could spend my evening drinking beer and playing computer games, maybe Friday wasn’t as great as I thought, it always led to hard decisions.

But before all of that I had to pop into the ground as Fred wanted to interview me, we had arranged to meet in my office, which had become a bit disused. Most of my work was now either completed at home or in school. Arriving at the ground I walked to my office and prepared myself a cup of tea. Fred arrived soon after and he declined my offer of a drink.

“Right, Danny, the team’s form has been nothing less than spectacular, do you think you can keep it going?”

“Yes, I think the team and myself want to create a good sequence of results, and we’ll make sure that happens.”

“John Cunliffe has been playing out of his skin since your arrival, have you said anything to him to make him play like that?”

“Only that I believe he has the ability to play as well as he does. The rest has been down to him.”

“Chester are also doing pretty well, and they play Wakefield, surely that will be an easy game for them?”

“Let’s get one thing straight, we are no longer talking about Chester City who played in the football league, this is Chester, a new club with all new players and management. Yes they were formed from the ashes of a team who had played at a higher level, but they are no better than any other team in this league. So no, it isn’t going to be an easy game for them, Wakefield will have done their homework and they will be prepared for any threat that Chester bring. The same as how Prescot will have prepared for us.”

Fred sat back in his seat and stared at me. Maybe I had been a bit too forceful in my answer, **** had I had my Kevin Keegan moment too early in the season, maybe I should follow it up by saying that “I fully expect to see the league trophy being paraded around Chorley, not Chester, I would love it if Chester fell.”

“Right, that’s all I need.”

“Yeah, thanks Fred.”

Fred stood up and left, as soon as he closed the door I put my head in my hands and cursed my stupidity, but then a thought entered my head. I hated Chester, I had been brought up by parents who taught me to support Shrewsbury and to hate Chester, the first league team who had taken a chance on me had been Wrexham, Chester’s fierce rivals, and finally the Chester City fans had hated me when I joined, and the less said about the chairman the better. I owed it to every Shrewsbury, Wrexham, Chester hating supporter to beat them to the league. Now I had more motivation and determination, this league would be ours.

I arrived home and grabbed the beer out of the fridge, my mind had been made up, I was going to the pub with Billy, Maureen and Melanie, and we would talk tactics, tactics and more tactics.

“Melanie! We’re going to the pub!”

Saturday 18th September 2010

Last night had only increased my determination to a higher point, plus I didn’t wake up with a hangover which was a bonus. Leaping out of bed I dressed quickly, and bounded down the stairs. Grabbing breakfast I ate whilst watching the news. I was due at the ground at noon, as it would take us 45 minutes to get to Valerie Park the home of Prescot Cables. I arrived at the ground exactly on time with Billy, but we were still the last people to arrive. Stepping onto the coach we found seats and sat down. Billy looked rough and it was obvious he was suffering.

Luckily we arrived at Valerie Park before he threw up, heading into the changing room I read the team sheet to the team.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Nick Meace

Tom Moncur

Michael Lawson

Louis Castles

Tom McMahon

Andrew Teague

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, Ashley Hodgkinson, Matt Jansen, Jordan Stepien, Jack Pearson.”

After reading the team sheet out, I left the changing room and stood by the dugout, there was a strange covered section behind one of the goals, and behind me was an old fashioned looking stand which provided the only seats. It was a dry day with clouds starting to gather. As I watched the team warm up, I noticed that Billy had gone a funny colour, walking over I told him to sit down and I took the warm up instead. Turning round to head to the changing room I noticed he had disappeared. As we entered the changing room I soon realised why. Billy was throwing up.

“Right let’s try and ignore that noise. We can win this. Billy are you ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, as I was saying let’s win this today. We need to show why we are promotion contenders! Now John lead them out! Billy just join us when you feel better.”

I didn’t wait for Billy’s response, I decided to take my seat instead.

By the 33rd minute I wished I had stayed in the changing room, nothing had happened, and I mean nothing. Neither side had had a shot on goal. The only interesting part of the match was Nick Meace receiving a booking for hacking down a Prescot striker. But from the resulting free kick, Prescot tried to be clever but their move failed and we hoofed the ball forwards.

Just before half time the ball rolled towards me on the touchline, flicking it up with my right I juggled it with either foot for a couple of seconds and then headed the ball to Michael Lawson who had come to take the throw in. I received a round of applause from the crowd, turning round I took a bow.

Declan Ford soon brought the half to an end and we headed down the tunnel.

“Raphael, I’m switching you with Matt. You aren’t focussed on the game, is everything alright?”

“Yes boss.”

“Well if you need to tell me something, then you can tell me on the coach. Right the rest of you need to get out there and score. Let’s take this game and win it!”

John led the team back out, and Billy decided to join us for this half.

A minute after emerging from the tunnel, Tom McMahon was making his way back down it. He had come off worse in a 50-50 challenge and I was forced to replace him with Ashley Hodgkinson. Tom Moncur moved forwards into central midfield.

In the 47th minute Robbie Blackwell tried to take the shirt off of a Prescot player’s back and received a yellow card for his efforts.

In the 75th minute I decided to replace the clearly tired Luke Chapman with Jordan Stepien, Matt moved back to left midfield.

In the 81st minute, Prescot took their first shot on goal, and they scored. Danny Barrett sped past Nick Meace and slammed home an unstoppable shot.

“****! Get forward, get an equaliser!” I shouted.

There was another goal in the match, but unfortunately in the 94th minute Prescot doubled their lead as David Nottage capitalised on a poor Lloyd Rigby clearance. Slamming my water bottle on the floor I stormed down the tunnel.

Final Score: Prescot Cables 2-0 Chorley

“What the **** was that? How the **** can you call yourselves footballers? For **** sake they scored with their first shot of the game. Jesus.”

Unfortunately for Robbie Blackwell he chose this moment to whisper something to Tom Moncur who was sat next to him.

“You, yeah you! Do you have something to say?”

“I was just telling Tom that I thought he played badly.”

“Why the **** are you commenting on his performance? I am the manager not you. And you were a lot worse than tom. What were you doing trying to swap shirts with that player?”

“Boss I…”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it, get changed and get on the coach.”

Storming out of the changing room, I walked clean past Fred.

“Sorry Fred, I’m not in the mood.”

“Just thought I’d let you know that Chester won.”

“Great.”

Stepping onto the coach I found a seat and sat in it. Pulling my phone out I checked the other results. This result left us in 3rd in the league. The coach ride back to Chorley was conducted in silence. As I stepped off of the coach, I turned to Billy.

“Billy I’m heading home, I’m not in the mood for the pub.”

“No neither am I.”

We walked home together, but no-one said a word. Unlocking my front door I walked in.

“Unlucky.”

“Humph, just don’t.”

“Yeah I know you hate losing.”

And with that I slumped onto the couch.

Wednesday 22nd September 2010

My mood hadn’t improved since the loss on Saturday, so I was hoping that the players would bounce back in tonight’s game, clipping Rowley onto his leash I walked down to the ground, I was due to meet Billy there.

As I arrived Ken approached me,

“Danny, the draw for the President’s Cup has taken place, we have drawn Skelmersdale away. The match will be played on the 26th of October.”

“Great, another game we don’t need.”

“Well I would like to see some silverware at the end of the season.”

“So would I but I would rather it said Evo Stick North winners.”

Ken didn’t say anything else, he just walked passed me. As I stared at his back, I decided I needed to bring a couple of new players in to cover the squad. Walking to the pitch I tied Rowley in his normal spot and headed back in to the changing room.

“Evening Billy.”

“Danny.”

“Have you heard about the President’s Cup draw?”

“No what’s that?”

“It’s another cup competition, anyway we have Skelmersdale away.”

“And let me guess Ken wants us to win it?”

I nodded, and Ken rolled his eyes. As we put the last shirt on the peg, the players arrived. Looking at them I read the team sheet out.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Jack Pearson

Nick Meace

Jez Fitzgerald

Louis Castles

Nathan Fairhurst

Jamie Vermiglio

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, Ashley Hodgkinson, Matt Jansen, Jordan Stepien, Andrew Teague.”

As the players grabbed their kit and got changed, I walked to the side of the pitch, Billy and Matt would be taking the warm up as usual, but if I had my way they would soon be joined by two more members of coaching staff, one of whom was an ex-Manchester United player. Matt and Billy did a good job of putting the players through their paces, and they looked focused and ready for the match ahead. Cammell Laird our opponents also looked up for it, but I was feeling confident.

“Right Saturday was disappointing, but this is a brand new day, and another chance to pick up three points! We can win this.”

John Cunliffe led the team out, and I walked out after them, fiddling with my tie, I had abandoned the black and white tie, and replaced it with a grey tie. Taking my seat next to Rowley I placed a hand on his head.

It took until the 30th minute for either team to do something of note, luckily it was us who produced the magic, and what a piece of magic it was, as Nathan Fairhurst picked up on a loose ball in his own half, spotting the run of Jamie Vermiglio he hit a pass into Jamie’s path, he slightly over hit the pass but Jamie managed to get a foot on it and to control it. Steadying himself he pulled his foot back and released the trigger, smashing the ball past the outstretched fingers of the Cammell Laird keeper.

And that was the only interesting part of the first half. Heading back into the changing rooms we were definitely the happier of the two sides, but I couldn’t help to think that we could have done more to entertain the 138 people who had turned out.

“Right, we’ve taken a chance but there were others we could have capitalised on, now get out there and get a second goal.”

Walking back out I prayed to the footballing gods that we would kill this game off.

It became apparent 5 minutes later that the gods had abandoned us, pretty much how I had abandoned the black and white tie, as Tom McGill capitalised on a horrible piece of defending from Nick Meace, approaching Lloyd, Tom McGill flicked the ball over Lloyd’s head and into the back of the net.

Nathan Fairhurst managed to get himself the game’s first yellow card, as he first gave away a foul and then he decided to argue with the referee.

In the 71st a second goal was scored, but not by us, as Stephen Connor snuck into the box unnoticed to slide home a cross.

I followed this goal by immediately bringing Andrew Teague and Matt Jansen onto the pitch in place of Nathan Fairhurst and Raphael Sylvester.

Looking across the pitch it soon became clear that Louis Castles was exhausted and unable to carry on, so in the 73rd minute I was forced into another change, with Jordan Stepien replacing Louis, and John Cunliffe moving back to right midfield.

We continued to throw everything including the kitchen sink at the Cammell defence, but they held firm and Andrew Madley brought the game to an end after two minutes of added time.

Final Score: Chorley 1-2 Cammell Laird

“Again? Great two defeats in a row. I’m not going to say much, but I hope you are all disappointed.”

I left the changing room, and walked back to the side of the pitch.

“Well Rowley, it was good whilst it lasted, but I said you would only be attending whilst we continued to win.”

Rowley looked at me, with what I wanted to think was a look of sadness, more than likely though it was obviously a look of hunger and a wish to go home. Unclipping him I led him out, and walked home.

Thursday 23rd September 2010

I still hadn’t gotten over the fact that we had lost at home, our home was supposed to be our fortress, but this was only September.

Following a busy day at school I found myself at Victory Park welcoming the two new arrivals to the club. Both had come in as player coaches and both could play in midfield. Sitting in front of them in my office, I looked at their faces.

“Guys I have brought you in as I know you have the desire, determination and experience to win. And we need to win. Promotion is the aim of the game, and I seriously hope you can contribute to that. Your expert coaching will improve the other’s games, and you will provide competition for the first team squad. Do you understand?”

Both Ben Thornley and Ged Kielty nodded at me.

“Good, now obviously there is a training session tonight, in half an hour, go get involved don’t worry about coaching, just get to know the squad.”

Shaking their hands I watched as they walked out of my office. Sitting back in my chair I ran their names through my head.

Ben Thornley: 35 year old Left winger, who had previously played for Manchester United and if hadn’t had been for a serious injury he could have still been playing for United to this day.

Ged Kielty: 34 year old central midfielder, who could also fill in at right midfield, he had spent the majority of his career in the lower leagues, and I hoped his experience would bring us the trophies we craved.

Both of them would feature in Saturday’s match against Arlesey, as Louis Castles and Luke Chapman still looked exhausted following the Cammell Laird match.

I stood next to the pitch watching the training session, Billy had taken the goalkeepers and Matt was putting the outfield players through their paces. As I watched my phone began to ring, taking it out of my pocket I looked at the screen, Melanie’s name flashed on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Danny, it’s me!”

“Hi Melanie.”

“Sorry to bother you but can I paint the bedroom?”

“Sure what colour?”

“Dusted Fondant.”

“What in hell is that?”

“It’s a colour I think you’ll like.”

“Right okay, well it’s your bedroom as well.”

“Great!”

And with that she put the phone down, curious I opened Google and searched Dusted Fondant, I was confronted by what can only be described as a horrible shade of purple, and to make it worse I had just told Melanie to paint our bedroom that colour.

Saturday 25th September 2010

The FA cup 2nd round qualifiers were due to take place today, we were due to travel to Arlesey Town, the journey would take us 3 hours and 30 minutes and we would cover 186 miles to get there. I had arrived at the ground early as we needed to be on the road at 10am to make sure we got there in time.

Sitting on the coach, I was glad that Ken had hired a coach with a DVD player, as otherwise we would all have been bored out of our minds. Jack Pearson had brought a couple of series of Family Guy, and the players seemed pretty relaxed.

Stepping off of the coach we looked at our surroundings, Hitchin Road the home of Arlesey is a newly built stadium, which still looks pretty smart. Walking towards our changing room we found ourselves in very comfortable surroundings. The players sat down and I stood in front of them.

“Lloyd Rigby

George Bowyer

Jack Pearson

Ashley Hodgkinson

Michael Lawson

Ged Kielty

Andrew Teague

Tom Moncur

Ben Thornley

Matt Jansen

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, Kevin McGarry, John Cunliffe, Dale Whitham, Nick Meace, Louis Castles, Jordan Stepien.”

Stepping out of the changing room, I headed to the pitch, I had always be inquisitive about new grounds and I was impressed by what I saw, behind the one goal was a terrace which had about 7 or 8 steps of terracing, behind the other goal there was nothing, but there was hard standing for fans. Across from the main stand was some more terracing, and the main stand itself was the only stand to offer seating.

As well as a new ground to add to my collection, today also marked debuts for Ged Kielty and Ben Thornley who would also be assisting in the warm up. Both had settled in well with the squad and had made friends with the rest. A lot of the lads had been over-awed to meet Ben, as they had been when they had first met Matt Jansen.

Walking back down the tunnel, I hoped that my words would have the desired effect and that we would halt our run of bad form, but my only problem was did I go in and encourage them or did I tell them that I expected them to win.

“Right, today is the day that we stop our run of bad form, we will win this game today because we have the quality and we are the better team. Now get out there and win!”

So I went with a mix of the two, maybe it would work. Matt led the team out, waiting till they had gone Billy and myself walked out and took our seats in the dugout. Declan Ford blew his whistle to start the game off.

After 5 minutes I had had enough of sitting down and I stood up in the technical area, walking to the edge I placed my hands in my pockets and watched. Ben was making some good runs forward despite his lack of pace, he was able to rely on his experience to guide him round players. Unfortunately neither Matt or Raphael were able to latch onto his crosses and everyone was hooked away by an Arlesey defender.

Ged had also started brightly but he wasn’t as comfortable playing as a winger. He moved across into central midfield more often, which freed Ben to get forward more often.

Lloyd seemed to be getting bored stood on his goal-line as he had only seen the ball once and that was to hoof it forward from a goal kick.

Luckily Declan Ford brought the half to an end before Lloyd became frustrated and did something stupid.

“Right well done, we have got through the half without conceding, I mean Lloyd hasn’t had anything to do. But all we need is one more goal, just a single goal. Ben is providing the crosses I just need one of you to get a head on it.”

Matt led the team back out, as they went I heard Ben telling the team to get forward. Walking out after them with Billy, we took our seats in the dugout and waited.

Ben was obviously becoming frustrated with our teams inability to convert one of his headers. So to help I replaced Raphael with John Cunliffe in the 59th minute, hopefully John would be able to use his height to head home a cross.

In the 72nd minute it soon became clear that we needed another attacking threat, so I replaced Ged Kielty and Tom Moncur with Louis Castles and Dale Whitham.

14 minutes later the first goal of the game was scored, as Harry Hunt broke into our box to slide the ball home. Turning to Raphael I shouted.

“How bloody hard was that? I mean he crafted that opportunity on his own!”

I didn’t wait for his response, as I waved Louis, Ben, and Dale to join the attack, I also motioned for George Bowyer and Ashley Hodgkinson to join midfield, we were now playing a 2-3-5 system, with a heavy emphasis on getting a goal.

But the Arlesey defence held strong despite being constantly battered by our attackers.

Final Score: Arlesey 1-0 Chorley

“Well that was the FA Cup, I’ll see you on the coach.”

I walked out, I didn’t have anything else to say. As I walked towards the coach I saw Fred walking towards me.

“Fred.”

“Danny how disappointed are you to be knocked out of the FA Cup?”

“Very, ok we would never have won it, but it would have been nice to reach the first round, the financial rewards would have been great.”

“Ged Kielty made his debut, how do you think he played?”

“He dealt well with the pressure, and I thought he did well.”

“So this is the third game in a row you have lost, the current starting eleven aren’t playing well are they?”

“Well I’m not one to make changes where they aren’t needed, but it may be time for one or two to keep the rest on their toes.”

“Phil Starbuck the Arlesey manager said you would have won today, if you had shot and not tried to walk the ball into the back of the net. How do you respond?”

“Well usually I would come back with a quote about how the opposition manager should stick to his own team. But today I can’t be bothered, I’m going to go with p*** off.”

Fred looked shocked, but I walked past him and sat on the coach. Feeling my phone vibrate, I picked it up and looked at the text, it was from Melanie.

“Unlucky about the result, but look at the bedroom, doesn’t it look great?”

Oh f*** I had forgotten about that.

Monday 27th September 2010

The Arlesey result was still fresh in my mind, and I still felt annoyed that Phil Starbuck had made a comment about my team and tactics. So I had vowed to myself to beat them whenever we next played them, which maybe never.

But back to today, once I had finished school I headed to the ground as Fred wanted to talk to me, I had no idea why after I had been rude to him. But still he must have wanted to talk about the AFC Flyde game. Walking out of the school gates, I’ve got to say I was glad to be leaving there, as a teacher I have always hated Mondays, the first day back after the weekend is always the hardest and the worst. Two boys had been sent to my office today for fighting in class, over a football match. After dealing with that incident I was sent a regular visitor to the desk outside my room. But that was all dealt with now, and finally I could start thinking about football.

Entering the social club I sat down at a table, there were a couple of other people in there and they looked at me as I entered.

“Sorry, Danny Preston?”

“Yep, how can I help?” I looked up and noticed a man stood at my table.

“Hi, my name is George, I’m going to be talking to you, as Fred is ill.”

Ill or annoyed I thought. But then my mind raced back to the names Fred and George. Fred and George. Common enough names, except for the fact that they were both ginger. So Fred and George from Harry Potter entered my head. Biting my tongue I stopped myself from calling him Weasley.

“Right ok, let’s start.”

“Ok, how do you view the AFC Flyde game?” George was a lot nervier then Fred.

“Well it’s going to be a tough game, both teams will want the 3 points. But I feel we can edge this one.”

“You have faced a lot of fixtures in the last two weeks, how has that affected the team?”

“Well someone at the league hq has got the schedule wrong when you consider that after this game we have 11 days off. But they help build momentum, in our case that momentum has been a run of poor results.”

“Ok, Lloyd Rigby has been in for a bit of criticism lately from your own fans, how will that affect him?”

I was fully aware of the abuse towards Lloyd, and was also aware that it was completely undeserved, as it wasn’t Lloyd’s fault that the defence hadn’t been in form, but still some people just couldn’t see that.

“Well it will spur him on, he will want to prove these ‘fans’ wrong, and what we need to remember is that these people will criticize now but when May comes they will be at the front of any celebrations. Hypocrites.”

George nodded and sat back, sipping on his drink. Finally he spoke.

“Well that’s enough for me, but Fred wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t ask this question, you have drawn Grantham Town away in the Evo-Stick Challenge Cup, how do you feel about the draw?”

“We have a good chance of progressing by the seams of it, I would like to bring back a trophy as well as the league this season, and this might just be the one. But then again, we shall just have to wait and see.”

George nodded, standing up he finished his drink and said his goodbyes. I also stood up and left the social club, Melanie was cooking lasagne for dinner, and I was starving.

Tuesday 28th September 2010

The lasagne had been a failure, and I mean an epic failure. It was burnt and just horrible, but of course I didn’t tell Melanie that, I just smiled sweetly and gave it to Rowley when she wasn’t watching. But Monday was now over and it was Tuesday, I had gotten through school, without any major incidents, and now it was time to play AFC Flyde. I headed straight for Victory Park, and into the changing rooms. Billy arrived at the same time as myself and we set the shirts out.

“Should we give the players some time off?” I asked.

“Well it would help their fitness, and possibly their morale.”

“Hmmm, yeah maybe a week wouldn’t hurt.”

“What about time off if they win and none if they lose?”

“Good idea.”

“What’s a good idea?” Asked Ged Kielty as he arrived.

“Nothing, don’t worry.”

He nodded and sat down, the rest of the players soon arrived and I read the team sheet out to them.

“Dave Watson

Robbie Blackwell

Nick Meace

Jack Pearson

Jez Fitzgerald

Louis Castles

Nathan Fairhurst

Jamie Vermiglio

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Lloyd Rigby, Kevin McGarry, Matt Jansen, Jordan Stepien, Tom Moncur.”

Ged and Ben Thornley walked out with me to set up the warm up equipment, both were disappointed to be out of the team, but they were experienced professionals and they knew it was just the way football went.

Walking up the touchline, I turned round to check on Rowley, as I gazed at the dugout I realised how stupid I had been, Rowley wasn’t here, he was sat at home. Sighing I carried on walking up the touchline towards the Piling Road End. As I reached the boundary wall I leant up against it, and watched the players warm up. Dave Watson was warming up with Billy and Lloyd and I watched as he parried every ball away, nothing was beating him and I wondered whether that would mean that he would be in top form for the game, or whether he was doing his best now, and during the game he would be poor.

“Danny!”

Turning round I came face to face with Melanie, leaning across the barrier she kissed me.

“Hi.”

“Hi, how are you?” She asked.

“Yeah, fine, well I’m nervous.”

“Really, are you not going to ask about me?”

“Sorry, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

If that was going to be her answer, then why did she insist on me asking?

“Oh and Rowley seemed pretty upset not to be coming to the football.”

I laughed, “Well maybe soon, he will be able to come again.”

Melanie nodded.

“Well Melanie I have to go.”

“Ok.”

And with that she walked off, walking towards the changing rooms, I thought about Rowley once again. But I had said that he was only going to be attending games whilst we were winning.

Entering the changing rooms I looked at the players.

“Right as you all should know, we have an 11 day gap between now and the next match. If you can win this game then you will receive a week off, if you lose then no time off. It’s up to you.”

John Cunliffe stood up and looked at the players.

“Now let’s go win three points and some time off!”

With that he ran out of the changing room and the rest of the players followed out after him. I was going to be accompanied by all of my backroom staff in the dugout today, and we walked out looking like something out of a cheesy mafia film. Standing in my technical area, I looked round at the dugout and realised that there was nowhere for me to sit anyway. It was raining and windy, so it was normal weather in Chorley. Andrew Madley blew his whistle to start the game, and I stood and watched.

In the 3rd minute Kevin Townson managed to find some space in the box to fire a header goalwards, as it travelled goalwards it looked like Dave would be able to get a hand to it, but at the last minute it took a deflection off of Nick Meace and hit the back of the net.

“Think of your time off!” I screamed at the players as they walked back to kick off.

We managed to find an equaliser in the 8th minute as Raphael Sylvester picked up on a deflected shot and fired a cross back across the box, John Cunliffe rose to it and smashed it home with his head.

7 minutes later we found ourselves in the lead as Raphael Sylvester sprinted into the box with the ball at his feet, firing the ball home he wheeled away towards the home fans.

Just 3 minutes after, in the 18th minute, we found ourselves with another goal, as Raphael broke into the box once again and lobbed the keeper.

In the 24th minute Luke Chapman pulled the Flyde right back back, Andrew Madley ran straight across to him and flashed the yellow card at him.

“Pathetic, just pathetic.” I commented to no-one in particular.

It wasn’t until the 46th minute that we made another chance for ourselves, as Luke ran down the left wing and whipped a cross into the box, it looked like it was going to reach nobody until the left boot of Raphael made the slightest of touches to direct it into the back of the net. Punching the air I resisted the urge to sprint across the pitch to join in the celebrations, 4-1 up in the first half, it was the stuff of dreams. Looking at the celebrations my eye caught Melanie and her family going mental, smiling I turned back to the dugout, pumped my fist and shouted “Get in there!”

Andrew Madley didn’t even bother with the restart, and we headed down the tunnel.

“Well that is the week off almost guaranteed, just keep alert. But guys that was bloody fantastic.”

Walking out of the changing room I stood near the dugout, resting my arm on top, I let out a content sigh, the only thing that could make this day better would be a cup of tea.

Melanie must have read my mind as she soon appeared with a cup of tea, handing it me she stood by the dugout and we chatted.

“Melanie, how about we have a bet.”

“I’m listening.”

“If we win promotion, then me and you will get married.”

“Oh…”

“Wait I’m not finished, if we win the league then we will get married and have a baby.”

“Oh…”

“Is that a good oh or a bad oh?”

“Oh…”

“Melanie? It’s me that’s supposed to freakout about marriage and babies.”

“Yeah, I accept. But what if you don’t get promoted?”

“Then we try again next year.”

“Ok, but you better get us promoted this season.”

I smiled, turning round I was just in time to see Shawn Richards slot home a wonder goal from an extremely tight angle. It was only the 58th minute, not time to panic.

In the 60th minute I decided to replace Luke Chapman and Raphael Sylvester with Matt Jansen and Jordan Stepien, both Luke and Raphael had looked tired, and it seemed like the best idea. As Raphael walked passed me, I high fived him.

“Brilliant.”

Just a minute later Louis Castles received a yellow card for a mistimed tackle, shaking my head I took solace in the fact that we were still two goals up.

The game reached a stalemate soon after, and to waste time I decided to replace Robbie Blackwell with Kevin McGarry in the 82nd minute.

Two minutes later Jez Fitzgerald picked up a booking for time wasting, as he failed to return the ball quickly to one of the Flyde players.

After two minutes of added time Andrew Madley brought the game to an end and we walked the tunnel the happier of the two sides.

Final Score: Chorley 4-1 AFC Flyde

“Well enjoy your time off, you have a week, so I want to see you next Tuesday for training.”

That was all I felt needed to be said, leaving the changing room, I felt my phone buzz, I answered it,

“Hello?”

“So are we heading home?”

“Yeah, Melanie meet me by the entrance.”

“Shall do.”

She put the phone down and I walked out of the ground, Billy soon joined me, and we waited for Melanie.

“Did you hear how many were here today?” Billy asked.

“No, did you?”

“132. Not great.”

“Well hopefully it will pick up soon.”

Billy nodded, and I waved to Melanie who had just appeared. The three of us walked home together, and to be honest I was looking forward to getting into bed and going to sleep. As we lay in bed, Melanie turned to me and said.

“Danny, you do realise that after today’s result we are currently sat in 1st position.”

“Yeah.”

“So where do you want to get married?”

“Wembley, Wembley stadium.”

At that point Melanie hit me with a pillow.

Thursday 30th September 2010

I found myself at a loose end tonight, as there was no training scheduled to take place as the players had earned the week off. After arriving home from school I sat on the sofa and looked around, Melanie was at work and I had nothing to do. Turning the television on I leant back and flicked through the channels, finding that there was nothing on, I sighed and turned the television back off. Rowley came over and sat in front of me.

“Walk?” I asked him.

Rowley stood up and wagged his tail, I stood up myself and clipped him onto his lead, opening the front door I stepped onto the street, turning in the direction of Pall Mall I started to walk Rowley. Passing the ground I looked at it and wondered whether or not it would be foolish of me to enter, maybe there was some office work I could do, I could scout players, but I couldn’t think of any positions which needed strengthening.

For some reason I found myself heading through the tunnel and out onto the pitch, I hadn’t even noticed that I was walking in that direction. Standing on the pitch I looked around, unclipping Rowley from his leash I let him wander about. As for myself I sat in the dugout, feeling an object under my feet I dragged it out and looked at it. It was a football, obviously left from Saturday’s match. Dropping it I watched it roll towards the pitch, my instincts were telling me to go after it, and before I knew it I was dribbling the ball around imaginary players, reliving moments from my footballing past.

It was the Northern Final (2nd Leg) of the Auto Windscreens Shields Trophy, I was a Wigan Athletic player at the time, and we were flying in the league, we were comfortably in the play offs in the English Division 2. But this game was special, not only was it a step away from the final at Wembley, it was against the first club that had taken a chance on me, Wrexham. We had won the first leg, at home by 2 goals to nil, but we were expecting Wrexham to come back at us. Sure enough I was right, Wrexham had taken a 2 goal lead and the game looked like it was going to be heading to penalties. Until I had been brought on, the game changed quickly and we found ourselves drawing. But although we were going through we still weren’t comfortable as Wrexham stepped up the gears.

Personally I had found myself receiving a shed-load of abuse from the Wrexham fans who viewed me as a traitor for leaving the club, and some of the abuse had been vile, which had gotten my back up. I had also received a couple of heavy tackles from my former team-mates, following one I was dragged away by one of my team. Receiving the ball to my feet, I found myself on the right wing, with a defender approaching, charging forward I ran passed the first defender, as the second defender shaped up to throw in a tackle, I slowed, put my foot on the ball dragged it back and flicked it up, during this I had continued to run, the result was that I jumped the tackle and ran onto the ball. The third defender attempted to accost me just outside the box, but I played the ball through his legs and twisted round him. Finding myself one on one with the keeper I picked my spot and fired the ball into the back of the net. Making the score 3-2, 5-2 on aggregate. I sprinted towards the away fans with my arms aloft as I reached them I jumped up and punched the air.

“Reliving your past?”

Looking round I found myself by the corner flag, searching for the source of the voice, I spotted Ken stood by the social club.

“Yeah.”

“Well you’ve still got it.”

“Thanks, the only problem is I have probably upset my blood sugar.”

“Come grab a drink.”

“Sure.”

I whistled Rowley and lifted him over the boundary wall, I hopped over myself and immediately realised why I shouldn’t have ran around, as pain shot through my leg. Ignoring it I walked to the social club and tied Rowley up outside. Entering the social club, I ordered a pint and sat down. Ken soon joined me, and we found ourselves talking.

“Would you consider it?”

“Consider what?”

“Making a comeback.”

“If the injuries were severe enough to force my hand, but I would always look for a loan player.”

“Just keep it in mind.”

The talk soon turned to other topics, and after a couple of pints I found myself walking home with Rowley. Maybe a comeback would be a good idea, but then again. It was certainly something to think about.

All weddings should be at Wembley stadium. It should be mandatory.

If I could choose anywhere to get married, it would be the Gay Meadow, Shrewsbury's old ground. But Wembley Stadium would be interesting!

Friday 1st October 2010

With no football due to take place tomorrow, I had found myself heading into town with Melanie.

“Right we’ll go to the Sir Henry Tate, and Sam’s Bar.” She said.

“Ok, fine.”

We walked through the town, and headed into the Sir Henry Tate, the town’s Wetherspoons. As it was a Friday night it was heaving, and getting to the bar had been a pain, when I finally made it to the bar, I ordered drinks, a pint for me, and Bacardi and Pepsi for Melanie. The next problem was trying to find her, as I walked through the pub searching for Melanie, I came across 3 familiar faces.

“Evening Boss, didn’t expect to see you out.” Raphael said.

“Evening Raphael, Nick and Louis. Enjoying your time off then?”

All three nodded.

“Do me a favour lads, don’t get into any trouble tonight. Just have a good night.”

At that moment three women approached the table.

“Oh my god, your that man aren’t you?” One of them said.

“Yeah, I’m a man.”

“No your that manager.”

“The manager of Chorley and of these three.”

“Yeah, that’s it. My brother should play for your lot.”

“Tell him to send me a letter, and a video of him playing.”

“Ok!”

Turning to the three lads, I mouthed the words, “Make sure you cover up.”

All three laughed and patted their wallets, obviously they had come prepared.

After looking around for another 5 minutes, I finally found Melanie upstairs in a corner, the only place which seemed quiet.

“Where have you been?”

“Looking for you, getting drinks, being told by an airhead that her brother is good enough for us.”

“Well I text you, and I’ve already had a drink.”

Looking up I noticed that there was a bar-man stood behind the bar, and there was an empty glass in front of Melanie, sighing I sat down.

“Yeah, three of my players are downstairs.”

“Well what can you do about it?”

“Nothing.”

Melanie nodded and took a sip of her drink. Waving suddenly, she became excited to see someone, turning round I noticed the three airheads from downstairs.

“Hey!” She exclaimed.

“Oh my god, Melanie.” All three chorused.

Looking at Melanie I hoped that this was just a horrible dream. But to confirm the reality of the moment I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Mind if we join you boss?”

“Yeah go for it Raphael.”

The six of them sat down at the table, and I was ‘lucky’ enough to be able to witness three of my players putting the moves onto some women, who were a good couple of years older than them, and a lot stupider than them. But after a couple of pints I didn’t care.

“Danny we are going to go onto another bar, one with music.”

“You go ahead, but I’m gonna head home.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t feel like carrying on.”

“Fine, I’ll see you at home.” She replied rather annoyed.

“See ya boss.” Raphael, Nick and Louis said, each taking their woman under their arm.

I waited for 5 minutes, and then left. Instead of heading home I headed to the Plough, I needed a pint in familiar territory. As I walked in I heard a voice shout my name.

“Danny!”

Turning round I spotted Martin, Melanie’s step-father. Walking over I shook his hand and said hello to the people he was with.

“Come join us.” Martin said.

I nodded and went to get a drink, walking back to the table I pulled up a chair and sat down.

“So you’re the man who’s going to get Chorley into the Football League?” One of Martin’s friends asked.

“Hopefully.” I responded.

“Well after the AFC Flyde game I think we can be pretty confident.”

I nodded and relaxed, I was back in familiar territory, talking about a very familiar topic.

Saturday 2nd October 2010

“Oh dear god, my head.” Were the first words out of Melanie’s mouth this morning, followed by horribly bad morning breath.

“That bad huh?”

“Yeah.” She groaned.

Personally I was fine, I had never suffered from hangovers, so today was going to be another Saturday for me. But Melanie who had only got in at 4 in the morning, was going to be a bundle of fun. My night last night had ended at midnight, after spending a good couple of hours talking about football.

“What’s the plan for today then? Want to go get breakfast from somewhere?” I asked.

“Food sounds good.”

Hopping out of bed I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, turning round I watched as Melanie put her foot in the remains of her kebab from last night, she swore loudly and pulled her foot back out. I laughed, and ducked as a pillow headed towards my head.

“I’ll see you downstairs.” I said as I left the room.

I didn’t hear her response but I think it might have been along the lines “Of go forth and multiply.”

I walked downstairs and sat on the sofa, Rowley came to join me. Picking up my Xbox controller I switched the Xbox on and played on a game for a bit, and by a bit I mean an hour. Melanie finally arrived downstairs and we headed out of the house.

“Fancy going to Manchester after we have eaten?” I asked.

“What do you want to do in Manchester?”

“Shopping, cinema and a restaurant. Oh and don’t answer a question with a question.”

“I’m not one of your students!”

We walked to the Sir Henry Tate, as it was the only place I knew we could get a good breakfast. Melanie’s hangover seemed to get worse as she entered, but I ignored her, I was hungry.

After breakfast we caught the train to Manchester, Melanie fell asleep on the way and I had to put up with her drooling on my shoulder, worst still the guy opposite me had no sense of personal space, and as such I had to keep my legs tucked under my chair, which as a 6ft 2” man was extremely uncomfortable.

As soon as we reached the station I leapt up, bashing my head off of the luggage rack, Melanie looked confused by my sudden movement.

“Time to get off.” I said, rather excitedly.

Getting my legs to work was the next challenge as the had cramped up, and they were taking their time to start working.

Exiting Manchester Piccadilly we had a walk around, and popped into a couple of shops, the only reason I wanted to go shopping was that Formula 1 2010 and FIFA 2011 had been released earlier on and I wanted to grab a copy of each. Melanie on the other hand had no idea what she wanted and we found ourselves walking around every shop.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Getting better.”

“Yeah it shows.”

Melanie glared at me, I hadn’t meant it badly, I just meant that she seemed more alive. After shopping, and Melanie weighing me down with bags, we headed to the AMC Cinema on Deansgate. The Social Network had recently come out and had received rave reviews which is why I wanted to head to the cinema.

“Really? Can’t we see something more romantic?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, what about that movie about Owls?”

“Sounds great.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No I don’t.”

“Fine. We’ll see the Social Network.”

“You do realise that the film is based on the creation of Facebook, something you love to use.”

Melanie shook her head.

“Well let’s go watch it then.”

An hour and a half later we found ourselves outside, looking for somewhere to eat. Settling on Evuna we sat down at our table and ordered food.

“Melanie, do you want to hire a hotel room?”

“Why, have you got something special planned?”

“No, I just can’t be bothered to travel home.”

“Wow you are so romantic.”

“Sorry, I mean I thought it would be the perfect end to a wonderful day spent with you.”

“Ha, not great but it will do.”

“Just like you.” I joked.

Melanie playfully hit me, and we laughed. Other diners looked across at us, and we laughed some more. After a good meal we hailed a taxi and checked in at the MacDonald Manchester Hotel near to Piccadilly station. Ordering a bottle of champagne we fell onto the bed.

Monday 4th October 2010

Monday mornings are always quiet for me, I tend to try and keep them that way at school as children are always most likely to misbehave on a Monday, as they have just come back to school following the weekend.

Also another reason I keep Monday mornings free is to give me time off to relax if I have had a busy weekend. This weekend had been rather slow following the Manchester trip on the Saturday. I had said that I never suffered from hangovers, but that was a lie, champagne causes hangovers for me, and I had spent Sunday recovering.

As I sat in my office, reading the news on the BBC sport website, I heard a knock on my door.

“Come in.”

A year 6 child entered, and stood in front of my desk, fiddling with a piece of paper.

“James, what can I do for you?”

“Miss Flowers wanted me to give you this.”

After finishing his sentence he thrust the piece of paper at me, unfolding it I read the note. After reading I sighed.

“Right come on, I’ll get him now.”

I walked back down the corridor with James, we spoke about school and how he felt he was doing.

“I’m looking forward to high school, Mr Preston.”

“Really? Already?”

“Yeah, but I’m going to miss your football team.”

“Ha, you’re not going to get picked just by sucking up to the head teacher.”

James laughed and we arrived at his classroom. Him was Michael, Michael has ADHD and his mother frequently ‘forgets’ to give him his Ritalin.

“Michael, what do you think you are doing?”

He shrugged and carried on standing on tables, and growling at children.

“Get down, before you hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Don’t care.”

“Fine if you crack your skull open, I won’t show you any sympathy.”

“Don’t care.”

“Oh just get down now.” I shouted.

Turning round he looked at me, fixing his eyes on me he tried to out-stare me.

“It’s not going to work, now get down.”

He growled and stepped down.

“Pick your work up, and bring it with you, you can spend today outside my office.”

He walked out of the classroom, and I followed him back to my office.

“Look Michael, if you don’t amend your behaviour you will not play for the school football team.”

Now this got to him, he looked at me with tears welling in his eyes.

“Now what do you need to be able to behave.”

“My tablet.” He mumbled.

“So what do you need to do?”

“Take it.”

I nodded and walked back into my office, waiting for the next child to need to be removed from their classroom.

Tuesday 5th October 2010

Well today was the day we were due back at training, the players had had their week off and now it was time for them to prove that they were well rested. We were also due to welcome a new player/coach and 3 new players.

Darren Caskey, Danny Edwards, Oliver Hewitt-Fisher and Hassan Bacchus were due to join us on free transfers and I hoped that they would bring fresh determination to the squad. When Billy heard that we would be joined by another player coach he turned to me and said.

“Soon you’ll want me to get my boots back on.”

“Yeah, if we get desperate that is.”

“Oi, I could still play!”

“Sure, I don’t doubt that you could.”

Billy laughed and jogged away, he went to give Matt, Ben, and Ged a hand with setting up the training equipment for tonight’s session. I on the other hand had players to speak to. Walking down to my office I found the four of them engaged in conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt but could you step into my office please?”

They did and I followed in after them and closed the door behind me, taking my seat I looked at them.

“Right I could repeat the same speech that I give every new member of the squad, but I’ll keep this short, Darren I expect you to use your experience to aid the younger member of the squad in their development, I want to see you strike up a good relationship with Ged, Matt, Ben and Billy as these are the people you will work with the closest.”

Darren nodded.

“And as for you three, you will in time become integral parts of the squad, and you will each have your roles to play, we have a highly competitive squad, so breaking your way in might not be easier, but I want to see you give it your all during training.”

They nodded.

“Last thing before I send you for training. I want to be a league team in 6 years. That is our goal, you are here because I believe you can help us make that goal a reality, don’t let me down. Right that’s it for now, out you go.”

All four left my office and I stayed in my seat, as always I ran thought about my new players and where they would fit in.

Darren Caskey a 36 year old central midfielder, is here mainly to lend his experience to the rest.

Danny Edwards a 19 year old who is comfortable playing at right back, defensive midfielder and central midfielder, would give the squad versatility.

Oliver Hewitt-Fisher a 20 year old central midfielder, arrived under the recommendation of Billy, he is apparently a very bright prospect for the future, and I can only hope that Billy is right.

Hassan Bacchus is a 20 year old left back, and central defender, who is here to strengthen the left side of our defense.

As I left my office to head towards the pitch I was stopped by Ken, who looked pretty happy.

“Evening Danny, I see our new arrivals are here.”

“Yep, all 4.”

“I’ll cut straight to the point, I know that you will want to get on with training.”

“Yep.”

“We have been drawn at home to Salford City in the FA Trophy first qualifying round, the game will be played on the 16th of October. Also we have been drawn away to Ramsbottom United which will be played on the 19th of October.”

I nodded, but secretly I cursed the fact that we will now have to play in another cup competition.

“Right, I’ll let you go.”

“Thanks.”

I walked out to the pitch and stood as the players trained.

Friday 8th October 2010

I found myself sat with a pint in the social club, opposite me was Fred complete with his pad, paper, and tape recorder.

“So Danny, you must want to capitalise on the good win against AFC Flyde, do you feel confident?”

“Yes, I always feel confident.”

“Matt Jansen is going to be making a return to his former club Leigh, how do you feel he will cope with the pressure?”

Matt played for Leigh? I thought, I didn’t verbalise my thoughts.

“Yeah, Matt is a professional and I feel he will cope fine with the pressure of playing in front of his former club’s fans.”

“Robbie Blackwell has made a good start to his Chorley career, are you happy with his contribution so far?”

“Yes, Robbie has hit the ground running and I am very happy with his contribution to our side.”

“Finally what about Raphael Sylvester?”

“What about him?”

“He has made a very good start, and has scored a good number of goals, what are your views?”

“Well it is obvious that Raphael has settled in quickly and is now a key part of the squad. But we must remember that all of the new players have settled in quickly, and are all making excellent contributions to the squad.”

Fred nodded, he opened his mouth to ask another question, but he was interrupted by his phone ringing, picking it up he excused himself and answered it, standing up he walked away from the table. After a couple of minutes he came back.

“Sorry got to go.”

“Nothing serious I hope?”

“No, just that I’m needed back at the office.”

“Ok, I’ll see you later then.”

Fred turned and left, and I was left alone with my pint, there were a couple of people in the social club, but I knew none of them, draining my pint I headed home to Melanie. I found Melanie sat on the sofa watching some kind of reality tv.

“I thought you hated this stuff?”

“Nothing else on.”

“We have god knows how many channels and you can’t find anything?”

“Yeah.”

“Well you aren’t doing it right.”

Grabbing the control I switched to the sports channel and managed to find some live football.

“See I can find stuff.”

“Shut up.”

I pocketed the control and headed to the kitchen, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat on the sofa next to Melanie. Rowley came to join us and we spent the evening in front of the television, only stopping to order pizza.

Saturday 9th October 2010

Sitting up in bed I stretched and yawned, checking the time I saw that it was 9am, stepping out of bed I headed to the bathroom to shower, and shave. After I had dried myself I walked back into the bedroom and dressed in my suit. Once dressed I headed downstairs and made myself breakfast. Rowley came over and placed his head on my lap a sure sign he wanted his breakfast too.

At 11am I left the house and walked down the Victory Park, I had to pack the kit and put it on the coach and I knew that job would take at least half an hour, making sure that I had got everything would be the main part of the job, luckily I would be assisted by Billy which would make the job easier. Leigh our opponents were playing at Crilly Park Atherton’s ground, as they had recently experienced ground troubles, but that wasn’t my concern, my concern was making sure that we brought the 3 points home.

“Billy what would you do if we ever lost our ground?”

“Why? Have you heard something?”

“No, our ground is safe. I meant hypothetically, what would you do if we lost our ground?”

“Well I would travel to whatever ground we ended up at. You?”

“Same really, not much else we could do.”

“Ok, let me ask a question, what about if the club folded?”

“I’d offer my help to the supporters if they set another club up.”

“What if they didn’t want you?”

“Way to make me feel wanted! Well I’d have to look elsewhere.”

“And?”

“Well hopefully I would get another management position.”

“And, you would need an assistant.”

“Whoa smooth. You would be top of the list!”

Billy nodded and carried on folding shirts and shorts.

“Billy, I’m thinking of getting my boots back on.”

“The shoes you are wearing are fine.”

“No, Billy pay attention. With the amount of cup games we have, I might play myself.”

Billy looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yep, why so surprised?”

“No reason.”

We were interrupted by Ken knocking on the door.

“Danny the coach is here.”

“Thanks.”

Ken left, and I picked one of the bags up and threw it over my shoulder. Heading out to the coach, I threw the bag into the luggage hold and stood by the coach, counting the players onto the coach. It would take us half an hour to get to Crilly Park and I wanted to make sure that everyone was with us.

Saturday 9th November- Leigh Genesis

We arrived at Crilly Park after a very uneventful trip, it was a dry day with a couple of clouds hanging around, but other than that I couldn’t find anything to complain about. Walking to the changing rooms I dropped the kitbag and looked at the players.

“Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Nick Meace

Andrew Teague

Hassan Bacchus

Louis Castles

Danny Edwards

Oliver Hewitt-Fisher

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Raphael Sylvester

Dave Watson, Tom Moncur, Matt Jansen, Jordan Stepien, Jack Pearson.”

I threw the appropriate shorts and shirts at the players and left the changing room, Ged, Ben and Billy followed me, and as we reached the pitch they jogged past me to set up the warm up equipment. I took a look at my surroundings, Crilly Park is a typical non-league ground with the seats being provided by the main stand, with the rest of the ground as terracing. The players raced through their warm-up, and as I watched I considered joining in with them to see how my legs would cope, maybe something for the next match. Heading back down the tunnel, we entered the changing room.

“Let’s take the 3 points home today, we need this victory. We can win this game, but you need to be at your best!”

John Cunliffe led the players out, and I followed out after them. Taking my seat in the dugout I settled down for what would hopefully be a good game of football.

In the 1st minute Raphael raced through the Leigh defence and slotted the ball home, it was the perfect start of the game until we noticed the linesman’s flag ruling out the goal, putting my head in my hands I sighed.

8 minutes later Raphael made sure he stayed onside whilst Oliver knocked a ball through to him, Raphael controlled it with his chest and from the edge of the area blasted the ball home.

Danny Edwards picked up his first ever yellow card in a Chorley shirt in the 20th minute, possibly something he won’t want to remember.

Not to be out done Raphael managed to get himself sent off, just two minutes later. Whilst jogging back from a failed attack, he lashed out at a Leigh defender, in front of the referee. As he walked past me I resisted the urge to punch him, and instead shouted to John that he would now be playing up front on his own.

Leigh capitalised on their one man advantage in the 37th minute, as Adam Stroud slid home a cross from the right wing. I swore loudly and stood up, I walked to the edge of the area and shouted at the players to wake up.

Luckily there were no other incidents in the second half and Andrew Madley (again!) brought the half to an end.

“Despite our disadvantage we can still pick up the three points here! Just stay focussed and make sure you take every opportunity that comes your way.”

John led the players back out and I walked out after the players, Raphael was still sat in the changing room with his head down. I didn’t speak to him as I passed, I felt no need.

9 minutes after the restart there was a goal, unfortunately it was a goal for Leigh pulling them into the lead, Lloyd Mayce had managed to find space in the area and powered home a header.

“He’s offside ref!” I shouted from my technical area. “REF! If our goal in the first minute was offside, then that one definitely was!”

The ref ignored me but he couldn’t ignore John and after telling John to shut up, he flashed the yellow card at him.

3 minutes later I decided to bring Matt Jansen and Tom Mocnur on for John Cunliffe and Danny Edwards, Matt took the captain’s armband.

In the 66th minute I brought Jack Pearson on for Robbie Blackwell.

“Jack, get Andrew to shift across into the right-back position, and you will partner Nick. Alright?”

Jack nodded and began to shout instructions as he ran onto the pitch.

We managed to win a corner in the 70th minute, Louis Castles delivered a perfect cross into the box, which Tom Moncur gratefully headed home, drawing us level.

In the 79th minute I became desperate for a third goal and told Louis Castles to partner Matt Jansen up front, whilst we played a 4-3-2 system.

“Danny, I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Billy, we have to try, we’ll give it 5 minutes.”

After five minutes Billy nudged me.

“Alright Billy. Guys change it back to a 4-4-1. Louis get back on the right.”

In the 87th minute, another goal was scored by a player in a Leigh shirt, Kieran Molyneux smashed home a shot from the edge of the area.

Despite our best efforts we couldn’t find another goal, and Andrew Madley brought the game to an end.

Final Score: Leigh Genesis 3-2 Chorley

“F***, that was disappointing, great effort but we could have been better. Raphael come over here.”

I stepped out of the changing room and looked at Raphael.

“What were you thinking? How stupid are you?”

“I know boss.”

“No you don’t know! Maybe if you hadn’t have been sent off we could have won. Well guess what that red card has earned you.”

“What?”

“A fine of two weeks wages for violent conduct.”

“Ok.”

“Go get on the coach.”

Raphael walked out to the coach, looking rather dejected. As I went to push the door open I heard a familiar voice.

“Danny!”

“Hey George, no Fred today?”

“No, his wife is ill.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but shall we carry on?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

“Kevin Molyneux’s late winner must have been a kick in the teeth for you, how do you rate that moment?”

“Possibly one of the worse moments in football for me, we had played so well with ten men, but it wasn’t to be.”

“What about the sending off of Raphael, did that affect the game?”

“Of course it did, going from being evenly matched, to being a man down is always going to affect a team.”

“Raphael was also involved in another incident, with his early goal being ruled out for offside, do you agree with the officials?”

“No, and I’m probably going to get myself into trouble for this, but there was no way whatsoever that he was offside, especially when you look at their second goal. The ref has got it wrong, and in my view, which is a lot better than his, needs to get his eyes tested.”

“Thanks Danny, that’ll be enough.”

I shook his hand and walked to the coach, the rest of the team were already on board, and now all I wanted to do was go home and sleep.

Sunday 10th October 2010

At around 9am I was woken by my phone ringing on the table next to me, rolling over I looked at the screen, and answered it.

“Morning Danny.” It was Ken and his tone was serious.

“Morning Ken.”

“Can you come to the ground as soon as possible please?”

“Yeah, sure nothing bad.”

“You’ll find out.” With that he hung up.

This didn’t sound good, I know we have been playing badly but I didn’t think he was going to sack me following a loss against Leigh, or was he?

Well the only way to find out was to get down there. I dressed quickly, and before I left the bedroom I kissed Melanie on the forehead, she made some un-human sounding noise and I left her. Walking down the stairs I decided to skip breakfast and walked straight out of the door.

Thoughts whizzed through my head, trying to work out why Ken wanted to see me so early on a Sunday morning, had results been that bad? They can’t be as we are 5th in the league so it could be worse. Had I overspent? Well no as we are way under the wage budget. Had he developed a personal vendetta against me? Maybe.

I dismissed these thoughts as I walked through the door and entered the corridor, something in my brain said that this could be the last time I stand in this corridor, and I had to ignore this thought, Ken’s office is opposite mine, next to the away dressing room, and I knocked on the door.

“Enter.”

Well this was it, now or never, the final showdown.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, sit down.”

I took a seat in front of him and looked at him.

“What did you say to the press yesterday Danny?”

“I said nothing bad about the club, I know that for sure.” I was getting defensive.

“Anything about the referee?”

Now the penny dropped.

“I questioned his eye sight. But I don’t see why you would be upset about that.”

“I’m not, but the FA are. Well not the FA but the Evo-Stick Premier committee are.”

“Oh.”

“I received an email from them this morning regarding your comments, they are far from happy that you questioned the ref’s decisions, when replays have shown that he was correct. According to them.”

“Replays?”

“Yes all games are filmed, and the footage is sent to the FA.”

I nodded.

“Well as punishment…”

“PUNISHMENT?” I shouted. “For a comment?”

“Well for a couple of comments previous as well.”

“So what’s the fine?”

“There is no fine, but you will now miss the match against Grantham. You will not be allowed near the touchline or dressing room. Plus let it be known that I am far from happy that you will now miss a game, I pay you to manage, clean up your comments to reporters.”

I nodded again, kind of like a shamed child.

“Well that’s it, all I needed to say.”

“Thanks Ken, for what it’s worth I’m sorry.”

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded and stood up, turning round I opened the door and walked out of the his office. I cursed my stupidity and walked home, I still had the rest of the day to spend with Melanie. As I got home I pulled out my phone and text Billy.

“Billy, I have received a touchline ban for the Grantham game, you will be in charge.”

Tuesday 12th October 2010

My touchline ban meant that I wouldn’t be allowed to take charge of the match today, but it didn’t mean that I couldn’t attend the game, I still travelled on the team coach as I had no other way of getting to the ground, unfortunately (or not) this meant that I had to leave work a couple of hours early. It would take us to 2 and a half hours to get to the South Kesteren Stadium for our match against Grantham, luckily Melanie was accompanying me for this match to stop me from getting bored and frustrated on the terraces.

“So what competition is this?” Billy asked.

“The Evo-Stick Challenge Cup 1st round.”

“Right.”

A quiet spell ensued until,

“Do we want to win this?”

“Yes Billy, we want to win everything!”

“Right.”

Fortunately we reached our destination before Billy could ask another question, standing up I turned to the players,

“Well good luck for the match, Billy is in charge tonight and you all need to listen to him.”

The players nodded and I walked off of the coach, Melanie followed me and we headed for the nearest pub. After an couple of drinks I noticed that it was 7.30pm and time to head into the ground to make sure we found a good spot. I can’t remember the last time I walked through a turnstile, but tonight I had to. I also brought a programme for the first time in a while as usually all of my programmes, home and away, are free.

Melanie and myself took up a space opposite the main stand and looked across at the dugouts. The South Kesteren Stadium is an athletics stadium and we found ourselves looking across a running track at the pitch in the middle. I soon realised that I didn’t know the line-up for tonight’s match, and I made sure I paid attention when the teams were read out.

Lloyd Rigby

Robbie Blackwell

Andrew Teague

Jack Pearson

Michael Lawson

Louis Castles

Danny Edwards

Jamie Vermiglio

Luke Chapman

John Cunliffe

Matt Jansen

Dave Watson, Tom Moncur, Jez Fitzgerald, Jordan Stepien, Nick Meace.

Matt led the teams out and I clapped along with the rest of the fans in the ground, the teams went through the usual pre match routines, before Declan Ford called the two captains over, Matt won the toss and we kicked off, as soon as we kicked off we went on the attack with Luke Chapman flying down the left wing, approaching the byline he whipped in a cross, which Louis Castles headed home.

“Get in there!” I shouted.

Looking around I saw that I was one of the only people cheering, the rest were looking rather glumly forward.

However the rest of the half was far from exciting, turning to Melanie I asked,

“Want to get a drink?”

“I don’t think they sell alcohol here.”

“I mean tea.”

“Oh right.”

Leaving our spot we headed towards the tea hut. We brought drinks and headed back to where we were stood.

“Melanie, are our games usually like this?”

“No, well, no. Alright yeah.”

“Really?”

She nodded. I thought they had been pretty good, with plenty of action.

“Oh.”

“Sorry, but that’s the way non-league football can be.”

“Yeah I know.”

I couldn’t hide the fact I was disappointed.

“Danny, maybe it just seems more exciting to you as you are in the dugout, managing the team.”

“So what do you do when it gets boring?”

“Wait for the next exciting bit.”

I nodded, and made a mental note to make sure that our next game was more exciting.

Declan Ford brought the half to an end and the players headed into the changing room with a one goal lead, whereas myself and Melanie stood and listened to the half time announcements.

Matt led the team back out, and I hoped that the second half would be more interesting than the first.

It didn’t start brightly, and in the 62nd minute Billy replaced Matt with Jordan Stepien.

In the 68th minute Andrew Teague was yellow carded for a poorly time tackle on the edge of the area, Grantham wasted the free kick and it flew over the bar by a good couple of feet.

In the 79th minute Billy made more changes and Danny Edwards and Luke Chapman trotted off the pitch to be replaced by Nick Meace and Jez Fitzgerald, Nick took up his place in central defence, with Andrew Teague moving into central midfield, and Jez took up Luke’s position on the left wing.

In the 84th minute there was finally some excitement, the only downside was it was only exciting for the Grantham fans within the stadium as Ben Saunders found some space outside the area and smashed home a long range effort. This meant only one thing, unless one of the teams could find a winner, extra time.

And sure enough it went to extra time, the teams didn’t bother with going into the changing rooms and team talks were conducted on the pitch, I was too far away from Billy to hear what he was saying, but I could see that he was trying to motivate and encourage the players.

Declan Ford started the first half of extra time, and we started by going onto the attack, unfortunately, this left us exposed at the back, and Grantham lofted a hopeful through ball towards our box, which Ben Saunders latched onto, Nick Meace attempted to stop him but only managed to bring him down.

“Penalty.” I muttered.

Sure enough I was right, as Declan Ford pointed to the spot, none of our players argued and now all eyes rested on Lloyd.

“Come on Lloyd.” I whispered.

Ben Saunders placed the ball on the spot and took a couple of steps back, Declan Ford blew his whistle and Ben struck the ball, Lloyd guessed the right side but he couldn’t get his fingers to it.

“Great.”

The rest of extra time flew past in a blur as we aimed to get an equaliser and Grantham aimed to keep us at bay.

Grantham were able to repel our attacks, and Declan Ford brought the match to an end, that was it we were out of another cup competition.

Final Score: Grantham Town 2-1 Chorley (AET)

“Never mind, Danny.”

“I know, there is still the league.”

“Can we go to the coach? I’m freezing.”

“Sure.”

We walked to the coach and knocked on the door, waking the coach driver up.

“Sorry mate.” He called as he opened the door. “Just catching a bit of sleep.”

“Don’t blame you.”

He smiled and Melanie and myself found seats and settled down, waiting for the players to get on. As they did they said hello to me, and took their own seats.

“Sorry Danny.”

“Don’t worry Billy. It just means there is one less distraction.”

“Yeah I suppose, but can you imagine if we won every one of the competitions that we are in.”

“That would be a lot of trophies, but it is the league that matters, and anyway there is always next year.”

Billy nodded and that was the last thing that was said before I fell asleep, and snored for the rest of the journey.

Friday 15th October 2010

Well it is that wonderful day of the week, Friday, school had finished for the weekend and best of all we are due to play a home match tomorrow, which makes it even better as we will not have to travel a ridiculous distance to play our match.

There had been no problems at school today, which was weird and I checked the registers more than once to make sure that the naughtier children were actually in school today. As I sat in my office chair I span around, I had no meetings scheduled and therefore had nothing to do. About 2pm someone knocked on the door to my office. I straightened my tie and opened a couple of files on the computer, to make it look like I was actually doing something.

“Come in!” I called.

Mrs Butterworth, a year 6 teacher entered.

“Ahh, Mrs Butterworth what can I do for you?”

“Sorry to disturb you Mr Preston but my daughter’s school has just phoned to tell me she has been sick.”

“Right, and you want to go?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine by me.”

“Should I split the class?”

“No, tell me what you are doing this afternoon.”

She looked at me as if I had just suggested that we have sex right there on the desk.

“Sorry?”

“What are they doing this afternoon?”

“Well they are making a booklet about the Second World War.”

“Are the resources prepared?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay well I’ll take them then.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded, I stood up and straightened my suit.

“Don’t you have a daughter to collect?”

With that she stood up and left, and I made my way down to her class, sure enough all of the resources were laid out neatly, I found the lesson plan on the desk and gave it a quick read, it mentioned a PowerPoint that I found easily. I heard the whistle go to signal the end of afternoon play, walking to the door I unlocked it and stepped outside to greet the class.

“Mr Preston?” Asked one of the children.

“Yes, what do you want to ask?”

“No, I just didn’t expect to see you.”

“Well I’m here to teach you this afternoon.”

“Cool.”

I motioned for the children to enter the class and they found their seats and sat down waiting for me to start.

“Right then, you have been doing work on the Second World War, yes?”

“Yes.” Came the response.

“Well this afternoon you will be making booklets about what you know, but first we have a PowerPoint to read through.”

We whizzed through the PowerPoint, after we had finished I turned and spoke to the class.

“Any questions?”

A couple of hands shot up and I pointed to one of the boys.

“Were you alive during the Second World War?”

A couple of children took a shocked breath, and one turned to him and said.

“You can’t ask that!”

“Hey, I believe it was me he asked the question of, no I wasn’t born during the Second World War.”

The rest of the children put their hands down.

“Okay then, here are your booklets, off you go.”

The rest of the day whizzed by, and I have to admit I enjoyed being back in the classroom, maybe I should make a habit of this. At the end of the day I marked their work and walked to the social club where I was due to meet Fred or George.

It was Fred, he was sat in a corner with a pint of Guinness, walking over I sat down in front of him.

“Evening Danny.”

“Evening Fred. Shall we start?”

“Straight to business as always, Gerry Luczka of Radcliffe is under a lot of pressure at the moment with his Radcliffe team not performing to expectations, what are your views on this?”

“Well I suppose that people are calling for Gerry’s head, but that is the problem with football now, we are too quick to sack managers. I mean look at Sir Alex, he didn’t do brilliantly in the first couple years of his reign at United, but now look at them. Patience is the only way that success can be achieved.”

“So if you were in his situation what would you want to happen to you?”

“Well I would want Ken to be patient and not to act on an impulse.”

“Right. Are you confident about tomorrow’s match with Salford?”

“Yes, I am always confident in my team’s ability, we can win this, it’s just down to them to prove that fact.”

“And finally, tactics?”

“Attack, simple as. We want to play entertaining football, and we want to win.”

Fred finished the last of his pint and shook my hand, he stood up and left after this. I followed after him and walked home.

Saturday 16th October 2010

Well it was time to deliver my promise of entertaining, attractive and attacking football to Melanie and the rest of the people that would pay to come and see Chorley play. It was Salford City that would fall victim to our Barcelona-like passing play. I walked down to the ground with Billy and we headed straight to the dressing room to set out the kit.

The players began to arrive as we laid the kits out.

“Right be careful where you sit, as I don’t want any of this messed up.”

The players carried on talking and acting like children.

“Right, shut up, here is the team:

Lloyd Rigby

Lee Woodyatt

Nick Meace

Ashley Hodgkinson

Jez Fitzgerald

Ged Kiely

Darren Caskey

Oliver Hewitt—Fisher

Ben Thornley

Raphael Sylvester

Matt Jansen

Tom Cox, Kevin McGarry, Tom Moncur, George Bowyer, Jordan Stepien.”

The chosen players began to get changed, so I left the changing room with the players who had not been selected. I hadn’t thought my team selection through as I was left with none of the player-coaches to help Billy, so it was up to me to help lay cones and warm up equipment out. After we had finished I stood back, the players ran out to warm-up and I joined them in their warm-up.

I wish I hadn’t, my legs felt horrible after about ten minutes. Grabbing a KitKat to make sure my blood sugar was high I looked at the players.

“Right, lets win this game. I want to see attractive passing and attacking play. Go out there and win.”

Matt led the players out and I followed after them, taking my place in the technical area I stood and waited for the game to start.

“Hey where’s the dog?”

Looking to my left I saw Rhodri Giggs looking in my direction.

“His luckiness ran out, and now he’s at home.”

“Damn, so another manager managed to beat you. I was hoping to have another chance.”

“Well if you beat us, then he will be back.”

Rhodri laughed, I’m not sure why, but our conversation was ended by Andrew Madley’s whistle

“Him again? Are there no other refs?” I thought.

Luckily it was a bright sunny day, which I thought strange of the time of year, as the football on display was far from being anything close to bright. Constantly our defence launched long-balls up front, not realising that neither Ged nor Ben had an ounce of pace to them, so there balls were easily dealt with by the Salford defence, and were quickly returned.

“Play it on the deck!” I shouted, “Move it around, take a couple of touches.”

As I spoke Darren Caskey received the ball, taking a touch he controlled the ball, and looked up for options ahead of him, spotting Ben in an advanced position he knocked the ball towards him. Ben controlled the ball sweetly and crossed it into the box, unfortunately the move was broken down by the head of a Salford defender.

We made another attacking move in the 33rd minute as Ged found himself with the ball at his feet and he also found acres of space ahead of him, sprinting forward he attempted to swing a ball into the box but only found the head of a Salford defender who, in turn, could only direct the ball out for a corner. Ged swung the ball into the box and Raphael headed the ball goalwards, but unfortunately his header went high.

Andrew Madley brought the half to the end and we entered the dressing room the happier of the two sides with our performance.

Half Time: Chorley 0-0 Salford City

“We can win this, we have started brightly and I feel we can maybe get a goal or two in the second half.”

Matt led the players out and I let Billy walk out before I did. Before I walked out I sat on a bench and checked my blood sugar, the screen read 4.5 and as I walked out of the changing room I grabbed one of the bottles of Lucozade which were left next to the technical area, taking a swig I kept the bottle in my hand.

In the 64th minute I decided to bring fresh blood on, and switched Matt and Oliver with Jordan Stepien and George Bowyer.

I followed this up eight minutes later by subbing Raphael for Tom Moncur, Raphael had picked up a knock after a 50-50 challenge for the ball, and I felt there was no need for him to struggle on, what ensued was a reshuffling of the team, as Ben Thornley moved into the striker’s role, Jez Fitzgerald took up the position on the left wing, and Lee Woodyatt moved across to left-back. Tom Moncur went across to right back.

In the 79th minute Ged went on another run forwards, this time the left back closed him down and Ged’s cross catapulted off of the defender’s leg and into the stand behind the goal, Andrew Madley pointed for a corner and Ged trotted over to take it. There was the usual pushing and shoving in the box causing Andrew Madley to flash the yellow card at a couple of defenders. Finally two minutes later Ged was allowed to take the corner, he whipped the ball into the box, where it pinballed around until Jordan Stepien toe-poked it home. Jumping up I punched the air, as Jordan raced towards me to celebrate with me and the bench. It ended with us in a pile and Andrew Madley spent a couple of minutes blowing his whistle trying to sort us out. I decided not to get up and stayed sat on the grass, my clothes were muddy but I didn’t care.

We defended bravely as Salford attempted to grab an equaliser, players threw themselves in the way of shots and it resembled something out of the Alamo. To say I was glad when Andrew Madley blew the final whistle was an understatement.

Final Score: Chorley 1-0 Salford City

“Well it wasn’t a classic but we got the win, and now we are in the 2nd Qualifying round of the FA Trophy. Enjoy your night.”

With that I left the changing room, Billy followed me.

“Billy, we haven’t been to the Plough in a while, fancy a quick drink?”

“Yeah go for it.”

We walked down to the Plough, pushing the door open I walked to the bar, and ordered drinks for Billy and myself. Before I could leave, the lady behind the bar asked me a question.

“Danny, you used to play football right?”

“Yes Sandra I did.”

“Would you fancy playing for us tomorrow? Melanie said you might want a game.”

“Yeah that would be brilliant, put my name down.”

“Great! Thanks Danny, make sure you are here for 11am please. Bring boots and shin pads.”

I nodded and walked back to Billy.

“Well I’m playing in a game tomorrow.”

“What? Who against?”

“I have no idea, but I’m playing for the Plough.”

“Didn’t they want me?”

“I’ll ask.”

“No don’t.”

“Sure?”

Billy nodded and sipped some of his pint. Our conversation turned to the football news which was on the television in the pub, after finishing our drinks we walked to our homes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Danny.” Billy called.

“Coming to watch then?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Sunday 17th October 2010

The day of reckoning had arrived, stepping out of bed I headed to the shower, as I stood under the running water I wondered why I was going to do this. Sure I could still play but would I be able to walk the next day? Well I couldn’t back out now, my name was down and I was doing it.

As I stepped out of the shower I heard footsteps on the stairs. I ignored them as it was either Melanie or Rowley and I headed back into the bedroom, pulling on a tracksuit I walked down the stairs and caught sight of the best thing ever.

Melanie was making breakfast.

She had never made breakfast before.

“Morning Melanie, need a hand?”

“No, you sit down and rest, bacon alright?”

“Yeah sure.”

I walked to the cupboard under the stairs and pulled my boots out, I then walked to the kitchen and pulled out the boot polish, sitting on the couch I started to polish my boots. Once I had done Melanie brought my breakfast out, setting it down in front of me I ate it quickly

“I can’t believe you are going to play today!”

“Why?”

“Well I thought you had retired.”

“I might make a comeback depending on how today goes.”

Melanie nodded and went back to eating her breakfast. Looking up at the time I noticed that it was 10.45am, grabbing my kit I walked out of the door. Melanie stopped me for a kiss,

“I’ll see you there, I’ll bring Rowley and Billy!”

I nodded and jogged off towards the Plough. Entering the pub I looked around at the other people there, noticing Martin I walked over.

“Morning.”

“Morning Danny, how you feeling?”

“Nervous. You?”

“Excited as always.”

“Good, who’s the manager?”

Martin pointed to the landlord of the pub, a man called Michael.

“Lads, shut up! We are playing a team from Sam’s Bar today, so get changed and then we will get down to the Duke Street rec. Oh and lads welcome Danny Preston.”

I received a couple of murmured greetings, Michael approached me at this point,

“Danny, here is your kit, you will be playing on the right wing, just like you did for Chorley.”

I nodded, and changed.

As soon as everyone was ready, Michael stood in front of us.

“Now I want us to play an attacking game, use your heads lads we aren’t Barcelona, so if in doubt clear it! Danny do you want to say anything?”

All of a sudden all of their eyes were on me,

“Umm well err, I’m just here to play really. But keep calm and play it sensible. But most importantly lets win!”

At that point we left for the Duke Street rec, where we would meet the team from Sam’s Bar, I had met some of the lads before and the team read as follows,

Martin Dean (Melanie’s Step-Dad)

Barry Smith (A balding 45 year old, who seemed to be past his good days)

Tom Dean (Melanie’s Step-Brother)

Harry Smith (Barry’s son, who must take after his mother)

Liam Fellows (Only in the side because he is left footed)

Danny Preston

Sam Dean (Melanie’s Step-Brother)

Neil Turner (The Man City fan)

Luke Faircastle (One of the Man City fans’ mates)

Paul Price (A lad of about 16 years old, Michael’s son)

Michael Price (The landlord)

There were no subs, as the team had been hard-pressed to find eleven players for the game. Looking at the Sam’s Bar team I realised what a hard job we would have to do, compared to use they looked like they could walk straight into the same league as Chorley.

We kicked off and I received the ball straight away, now I was never a player to do fancy tricks whilst on the ball, and I set off down the wing, as the first defender approached I pulled the ball close, waiting until he was close enough, sliding the ball through his legs I carried on, until I was hit with a bone crunching tackle from the opposition left-back. Lying on the floor winded, I opened my eyes, and saw Tom and Sam squaring up to the left back.

“Guys! Leave it!” I shouted, or tried to shout it came out more a wheeze.

Standing up I dusted myself down, Sam and Tom had been dragged away and I found the ball placed at my feet, looking into the box I saw that we had a couple forward, whipping the ball into the box I watched as it was cleared back to my feet, I took a couple of steps forward and whipped the ball into the box again, this time it was gathered by the keeper.

The keeper launched the ball forward and it bounced over the head of Barry Smith, allowing the Sam’s bar striker to get round him and slide the ball past Martin Dean.

“Come on Danny, you should’ve done better with the second ball.”

Looking round I saw Billy stood by the pitch, I couldn’t say anything better as I was still attempting to get my breath back. I stood on the halfway line waiting for the kick off, it was the 4th minute and we were already a goal down. I received the ball once again from the kick off, and launched a long ball for Luke Faircastle to latch onto, unfortunately he was slower than I had expected and the ball ran over the touchline.

In the 34th minute, the Sam’s bar right winger gathered the ball on the right wing and sprinted down the wing he easily skipped past Liam Fellows and whipped a ball into the box, I had ran back to defend and headed the ball clear, Neil Turner controlled the ball on the edge of the box and went to clear it, unfortunately his clearance hit the knee of an on-coming Sam’s bar central midfielder and looped over Martin’s head. Now we were 2-0 down.

Luckily we were able to get through the rest of the half without conceding another goal. My legs were aching but now I was determined to beat this lot, due to the fact that they were already talking about how they were going to celebrate after the game. Grabbing the KitKat I had brought along I ate it whilst Michael spoke to us.

Half Time: The Plough 0-2 Sam’s Bar

“Come on lads, we aren’t using our heads. We need to get back into this. Danny please add something.”

I looked at the rest of the team.

“I’m tired, and bruised, and I bet you are as well. But this lot think they have already got the game in the bag, and I can’t stand that! Now let’s get back out there score three goals and show them how the Plough plays football!”

The team cheered and walked back onto the pitch, each of us had fire in our bellies now and we wanted to beat this bunch. They kicked off and we got straight onto them. Neil robbed the Sam’s bar number 8 and passed the ball to me, I played a one-two with Paul and raced forward, the left-back attempted to repeat his earlier challenge but this time I was aware of him, waiting till he committed himself I stopped and waited for him to slide past, rolling the ball forward I carried on my run, entering the box I picked a spot and smashed home a shot. In the 51st minute we were only losing by a goal.

In the 67th minute Luke broke forward, and although he didn’t have much pace about him, he somehow managed to get past the right-back, he whipped the ball into the box, but unfortunately he couldn’t deliver the ball to Michael. His cross reached the keeper, who once again launched it forward, it bounced, this time, over Tom and Martin raced out to meet it, unfortunately Martin was beaten to the ball by one of the strikers, I had already started running back but as soon as I saw the striker receive the ball I went into a full sprint, Martin did enough to distract him by attempting a tackle, but the striker still shot, sprinting towards the goal line, I threw myself into a slide tackle, and stopped the ball just on the line, standing up I hoofed the ball clear. As I walked past Martin he slapped me on the back,

“Nice save Danny boy!”

I smiled and jogged back to my position, as Sam skied a shot.

In the 86th minute, I was stood on the halfway line, watching as Paul attempted to take the keeper on, his shot was cannoned off of the keeper’s leg and bounced towards me, running forward I controlled it and sent a shot back, it flew over the furiously back-pedalling keeper’s head, however it looked as if it would hit the bar and bounce away, it caught the underside of the bar, and bounced on the line. I threw my arms in the air, and so did the rest of the team, the ref, an old boy who was probably there in 1966, blew his whistle and pointed at the centre circle, it was there we had equalised. I was mobbed by the rest of them team, but as they congratulated me, I shouted,

“We need a winner!”

The Sam’s bar players attempted to argue with the ref, but I think he had turned his hearing aid off.

From the kick off they went on the attack looking for a winner themselves, and in the 91st minute they had a perfect chance as they were given a corner, I took up a position on the edge of the box, the furthest forward of any of our players, the keeper and left back were the only two that stayed back and we looked to defend to the last man. Their right winger whipped the ball in and after it pinged around the box Martin managed to get a fist to it, punching the ball clear, it only reached a couple of feet in front of me and I raced forward in a race against the left back to get to it, I managed to get to it first and poked it through his legs, sprinting round him I carried on towards goal, I was aware of the defenders attempting to get back, but now it was just me and the keeper as I neared the edge of the box. Reaching the edge of the box I curled the ball round the keeper and watched as it nestled in the back of the net, wheeling away I sprinted towards Billy and hugged him and Melanie, I was soon joined by the rest of the team, except Martin, and we celebrated. Finally Arthur, the ref (I don’t actually know if Arthur is his real name but it seemed appropriate) managed to split us up and we jogged back to our positions.

They never got further than the kick-off, as Arthur blew his whistle quickly after. I shook the hand of every player, including the left back, and hugged each of my team mates.

Final Score: The Plough 3-2 Sam’s Bar

“Excellent, great.” Michael puffed. “Drinks on me.”

This was greeted by a cheer, and we headed back to the Plough for drinks. Melanie caught up with me and held my hand.

“How do you feel?”

“Knackered.”

“Blood sugar?”

“I’ll have something in a second. Is Rowley going to be okay in the pub?”

“Yeah, we’ll put him in the smoker’s area.”

I nodded and turned to Billy.

“So think I should get my boots back on for the team?”

“Well you definitely still have it, maybe if we are caught short.”

“I’ll get Ken to fax the papers off to the FA then.”

“You’ve written them already?”

I nodded again, I was too exhausted for words, and I couldn’t wait for the first pint.

Once I had done Melanie brought my breakfast out, I injected and ate it.

Wait, what?

I liked this episode a lot. It suffered from less editing than your prior posts, which made me think for a moment. My guess is that your enthusiasm in this post--which is part of what makes it better, more compelling writing--also kept you from proofreading it quite as closely as the rest. Just something to think about.

I am enjoying the story. I think you would be well served by showing more of what keeps him and Melanie together, but other than that, you're doing a nice job of creating a believable world.