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| Winning then Losing | |
| By BrianRobertNeal | ||||||||||
| 11 May 2006 | ||||||||||
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This was posted elsewhere perhaps last year. But it's play-off time in the world of Football. So it's topical for some. This piece attempts to capture a range of items related to a football match. There is a sub plot whose objective is to put the match and its ramifications in a proper perspective. WINNING THEN LOSING PSYCHO SMITH. A mid-week local derby away at their place, a soft home match the following Saturday and then it would be feet up for a few weeks. The new manager had turned things round. When he came 12 games ago, we had been plummeting down the league. We’d lost our last 8 games. Now we've gone 12 games without losing. If we got 6 points from the final two games we would get into the play offs. On the other hand, if we won the play offs, at least 5 of us, including me, would go as part of the team strengthening plan. I’ve seen it so often, you play your hearts out all season, get up to the next division and see the side gutted as new promising young signings are brought in. I’ve nearly played in the Premiership on 3 occasions. Each time at the end of the promotion season, I was given a free transfer. This time however it would effectively finish my career, cos no other bugger will want me now, not at my age and I’m not going non-league. I think I’ll get sent off early on. On the Coach, I always sit with the goalie. We nickname him Armless. He said to me, “They’re not renewing my contract at the end of this season, I’m apparently not up to League football anymore, however I might be a make weight to bring some Conference Goal keeping wonder boy in. Me and cash out, whiz kid in! Psycho put one past me; we can both take the blame.” I laughed, “You must be a mind reader, if we go up, you, me; Charlie, Ringo and Dobby are on our way out.” Dobby turned round and peered between the seat headrests. “Here Psycho, has Superman told you who’s in the starting eleven?” I answered, “Are we going to win the FA cup? What do you think? I’m only the captain so I’m usually the last to know.” On the back seat of the coach were the famous five, a bunch of youngsters all got on free transfer or loan from Premier or Championship Teams. Fast, skilful, naïve and temperamental, easily kicked and elbowed out of a game, still the fans loved them. They were obviously playing tonight. We are very cliquey; there are the 5 old boys, the 5 kiddies, and the 6 also rans. Normally 5 of the also-rans merely warm the substitute’s bench but which one, other than the substitute goalie, gets to make up the playing eleven you can never tell. They seem to accept their role, but they hate each other more than they hate the chosen 10. Yet when we run onto that pitch, do the big huddle and go to the fans; it looks just like the Walton Family in Football Boots. SUPERMANAGER. To think fifty bloody thousand pounds had cost me my career. A grateful agent after the contract had been agreed, had bunged the money. The player I signed for five hundred thousand had been sold on for £3.5 million at the end of that season. The money had saved us from bankruptcy. Then during the summer, it all came out, that me and several others had taken bribes from this agent. My team sacked me. From being the Premiership’s youngest manager I was then grateful to be the player/coach of a Southern league Team. I put 300 hundred on the gates home and away. When we played the Arsenal at Highbury in the 3rd round of the FA Cup, we found we had somehow got over three thousand fans. Before I came, we had about 120! During my brief reign, gates went up to over 400. Then 12 games ago I was headhunted. So here I am sat at the front of the coach with the most unlikely combination of has beens, never was’s, unlikely to be’s and pure rubbish. If we go up with this bunch of wankers, we’ll spend the whole of next season failing to avoid relegation. I might as well retire. No, somehow we have got to lose this one, win our last game and just miss the Play Offs. My Reputation will be untarnished; I’ve spent nothing, and made shrewd use of loan deals and free transfers. Between you and me, 2 of them kiddies “belong to the Arsenal” and will go back there when their contracts expire. Don’t tell the fans they’ll get upset. HEAD STEWARD I watched the away team’s Coach turn onto the small parking area at the front of the ground. The roads around the stadium were packed. We were expecting a full house, perhaps seven thousand plus. Entré nous, you can add 10% to any declared attendance. I should know being the Head Steward here. If we can beat this mob we are safe and will miss relegation. Lose tonight and it will all be settled by the final game. I opened the gates at 5 despite the fact that it is a 7.45 kick-off and still there are queues. The “Telly” are here, and within 15 minutes of their arrival they had fused the electrics. I sorted that out. I said hello to Dicky Dildo, you know the one I mean, he couldn’t play Subuteo, let alone proper football. Yet every week he’s giving all the yap, mind he reads off an auto-cue and he sounds good. THE MEDIA Dickie walked into the Executives Suite, which resembled a Working Man’s Club. The Home Chairman welcomed him cordially, but politely refused to answer a single question about the Club’s Debts and the rumours that if they were relegated they might sell their ground and share with a local Conference team. The Away Chairman was less polite, Dickie was told to go forth and procreate or words to that effect. Dickie continued on his way to the corner of the Suite which had been mocked up to look like a commentary box. Inside this enclosure were the normal props, the big table, comfortable chairs, 3 guests, hordes of technicians and equipment. INTERLUDE On their way to the changing room the visitors had bumped into some of the home teams players. This went off without other than banter however the 2 captains squared up to each other, exchanged insults and camera bulbs flashed. Then the local news hounds were off and onto the ground, to get good places. Unseen and unheard Psycho said to the home captain, “How’s the little one?” Close to tears, Mad Dog replied, “We’ve just been told that he’s only got a year to live at most. And now this, relegation, we don’t stand a chance tonight” Psycho suggested, “Why don’t you and I get sent off, say after 15 minutes? I’m telling you, Armless won’t be at his best tonight, so hit one towards the goal and hope.” Both men knew that if their team were promoted or relegated that both of them, for different reasons would be on the scrap heap . SUGAR DADDIES The 2 chairmen were in conversation. The away chairman said, “I can’t afford to go up; gates will drop, for no-one wants to see a losing team and we’re just not good enough.” The Home Chairmen said, “I reckon I could get an extra thousand punters a game if we were winning in the Conference rather than losing in the League and we’d be paying Conference Wages.” One said to the other, “So neither of us wants a win tonight.” HOME FANS Little Lizzie stood behind the goal as she always did. She’d been there since the gates opened. It was now 15 minutes to kick off, all the gang were there. She looked at her husband and then her sons, they were so anxious. The atmosphere was fantastic, the chanting and counter chanting. The Away Fans sang “We’re going up and you’re going down, do dah do dah, you’ll sell your ground for half a crown, cos it is a tip”. Brian was there but he was quiet and chain smoked. His son Christopher said to Howard “The team need not have been in this position.” He continued, “Though all we need is one point from the final 2 matches, it must be remembered, that we’ve not got any points from the last 4 games.” THE GAME 10 minutes before the kick off, Superman had walked into his side’s dressing room and read the team sheet. In principle the 5 kiddies were in, as were the 6 also rans, the 5 oldies were all dropped to the bench. Superman had said “I’ve got to look to the future not the past, so some of you are getting your chance against poor opposition. It’s up to you to take it.” They then ran out onto the pitch and the fans seemed astonished at the side that had been put out. Mad Dog played a blinder, and scored for the home team, the game’s only goal. There were 3 sending’s off. 2 of the away team’s players and one of the home team’s and there were 8 bookings, four each. The idiot of a ref added 5 minutes at the end of the 2nd half. Thank god, the threatened brawl between the two sides never broke out. Then the final whistle blew. Brian and Howard hugged each other. Lizzie burst into tears. Lizzie’s Husband, her boys and Christopher, jigged about, cheered and clapped. It had been a good physical game. The losing away fans called Mad Dog over and gave him a tremendous ovation. You see he had played for England and got a winning goal against Argentina. Football Fans can have long memories and strange loyalties. PSYCHO SMITH 2 I never got on, so I never got sent off. Armless did get on; when our “also ran” goalie had been sent off along with their ageing striker, following a ruck. Funny enough Armless was in goal when Mad Dog scored. But in all honesty he never saw the ball until it was in the back of the net. After the goal, Armless had played the game of his career and the home fans cheered him off the pitch. At the end of the game our fans poured out of the ground but theirs just stood there shouting and cheering. Many of them were in tears. I’d just changed out of my kit, and packed my bag when the mobile rang. It was my wife; she said “Get hold of Mad Dog and get him to the Hospital quick”. She added, “I’m there with his wife; their little boy has had an attack and he’s been taken to Hospital”. My wife had gone over to their place for the evening. The two women are very close it goes back to our England days, me and Mad Dog used to be room mates. I shot off down to their changing room. Mad Dog was still in his kit. I looked in and gestured. He could tell there was something wrong so he threw his kit off, dressed and came out. We went to one of the Senior Policemen and told him what had happened. I drove Mad Dogs’ car and we got a Police escort or we would never have got away from the ground. It was a 10 minute drive to the hospital. When we got there the Senior Copper said, “Get out, I’ll park the car up.” We ran to the Children’s ward and a Nurse let us into the intensive care unit. We had to kit up, masks, hair nets, gloves and gowns. The little boy was asleep in a cot. He had tubes and pipes stuck in everywhere, a bank of monitors bleeped and chirped. My wife was cuddling the distraught mother. I said to Mad Dog, “Do you want us to leave you two with your boy.” He answered, “No, I would prefer that you stayed if you don’t mind.” SUPERMANAGER. 2 One moment Psycho was here and then the next he was gone. I’d told the other four “oldies”, that they had contracts for the next season. Then I left a text message on Psycho’s Mobile, telling him that I’d made my point; the chairman agreed that there is no substitute for experience, so he’d got a contract for next season. Also tell Mad Dog he was brilliant and I hope his boy’s all right, my prayers are with him. As I knew where Psycho was, I told him that he need not phone back. He could have the next 2 days off, but he must come in on Friday for training. I’m not religious but there are times when I ask god for help. However it would be nice if he could just now and again listen and do something, like save the little boy. THE MEDIA 2 News is coming in that Ex-England footballer Frank “Mad Dog” Mitchell has lost his only child. The boy died following a severe attack brought on by his Cystic Fibrotic Condition. Mitchell is now at home with his wife, being comforted by his sister and his Ex-England partner and brother in Law, Gerry Smith.
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