retired_jennie

That coffee, and the three cups that came after it, were certainly reviving, and by a quarter to nine I was on my way to have a look over the club’s facilities and coaching staff for the very first time. Bristol Rovers’ home ground, the Memorial Stadium, is in the suburb of Filton, about seven miles from the city centre, and what it’s named in memorial of will forever stay a mystery. The capacity is around the 11,900 mark, although fewer than 3,000 are seated, and I guess that for a club at our level the facilities aren’t that bad.

Once I’d taken a look around the stadium and the training ground, it was time to sort the coaching staff out. There’s only two coaches on our books, plus a player-coach, and the first thing I had to do was choose an assistant manager; when Dunford and the previous manager left, most of the staff had gone too.

The choosing of my assistant wasn’t the hardest of tasks. Tony Fawthrop was a hard-working ex-pro, he had a shrewd tactical brain and that, together with the fact he was a born optimist - to Tony, the glass wasn’t merely half full it was about to refill itself by magic - made him the perfect choice. Yes, here was a man I could work with.

The only other coach was Paul Molesworth, he was another retired pro and he was, personality-wise, the complete opposite of Tony. Despite being born in London he spoke with a broad Geordie accent and was a stickler for discipline; he’d have the job of keeping the players on the straight and narrow.

As for the other staff, we had two physios, Paul Kite and Simon Dodd. I was of the opinion that was one too many for a club the size of ours and had planned on letting one of them go, but when I found out it’d costs us £45,000 to cancel their contracts I thought what the hell, let ‘em both stay.

retired_jennie

As far as the coaching side of the club went, I was happy, and I walked out of that staff meeting with a beaming smile. A smile that soon vanished, however, when I watched Tony and Paul put the squad through their paces in training. My doubts about the quality of the players proved to be all too accurate, and there’s no hiding from the fact that I’ve inherited a very poor side. We had one half-decent striker in Ghana-born Junior Agogo but otherwise there was a whole load of complete dross.

There was also one face that I wasn’t exactly too happy to see. Paul Trollope was the player-coach I’d mentioned earlier, he was also a Wales international, and he’d been in a couple of squads with me during my playing days. We’d never exactly hit it off, and things had come to a head when he’d lost his place in the starting line-up to me; though as I pointed out at the time, it was hardly my fault he was crap. Since he was on £1,400-a-week, possessed very little playing ability and even less coaching talent – and had a dodgy haircut – he’d be on his way out.

It was clear that if my hopes for promotion were to be anything other than a pipe-dream I’d need to make big changes and make them fast. So, by the end of my first day in charge I’d released no less than seven players, including one senior pro in Marc Swift, and told another eight their futures here weren’t exactly rosy; those eight included my old adversary Paul Trollope.

retired_jennie

The trouble was, after a few years out of the game I was hardly awash with contacts, and I can’t exactly lay my hands on top-class players at the drop of a hat. But, I was hopeful that I knew a man who can. It was time for a little help from a friend.

Like me, Gary Smith is from Cromer and, like me, he used to be a footballer. Actually he was a bloody good footballer, played in the top flight with Norwich for a few seasons when they were actually half-decent. But it wasn’t for his playing abilities that I needed Gary’s help now; he’d retired from the game donkeys years ago. But, after hanging up his boots he’d carved out a good living for himself as a football agent; surely he’d be able to point me in the direction of the next Ronaldinho or Rooney? We were about to find out.

“Gary? It’s Teddy. Teddy Hamilton.”

“Well f**k me. I haven’t heard from you for so long I thought you were dead!!”

“Not quite, mate. Look, this isn’t just a social call. I’m in a spot of bother, and I need some help.”

With that, I went on to explain my “spot of bother”. Or actually my 23 spots of bother, all about as much use as the Pope’s penis and all on the books of Bristol Rovers.

“Come on, Gary, you’re into this agent lark, you gotta have a few future stars stashed away somewhere.”

“Well, what’re you looking for??”

“Cheap, two legs, can kick a ball. Let’s start from there.”

retired_jennie

22nd July 2005

With that Gary was off trawling the globe (well, Europe anyway) in search of anyone reasonably talented and who was willing to come to Bristol Rovers. I was determined that as few as possible of my current squad would be required to play any part in our season, and I needed my old pal to come through for me.

And he did; in style. In training this morning, there were five new faces, and all for a combined cash outlay of bugger all.

Contestant number one was Souleymane Bamba. Bamba was actually born in the Ivory Coast, but he holds a French passport so I wasn’t hampered by any daft work permit laws. He’s an U-21 international, and was released by Paris St. Germain at the end of last season; somehow Gary persuaded him to swap Gay Paris for, erm, not-so-Gay Bristol. He can play either centre-half or right back, where he starts out depends on who else we can bring in.

Next, we had 21-year old striker Francesco Milano. The Italian youngster had been released by his home-town club Palermo without playing a game, but he’s fast, good on the ball and his finishing, while still in need of a bit of improvement, isn’t nothing that can’t be polished up on with some hard work on the training ground. Unfortunately Francesco spoke not a word of English; that was another thing we’d have to work on.

Jean-Christophe Cesto is only 18, and as you could probably have guessed he’s French. He’d come through Lyon’s youth programme before being discarded at the end of last season, physically he’s not the strongest but he’s a very versatile player and, even at this young age, has every chance of being a regular in my first X1.

And, last but not least, we had Ryan Hartslief. Ryan, a 26-year old centre-half, was born in and had spent his entire career in South Africa yet somewhat bizarrely held an Irish passport! Along with a taste for Guinness, that also gave him the right to work freely in both the EU and, thankfully for me, Bristol. He’d start the season as first choice at the back.

So, things were looking up. I had a striker who could, sometimes, make contact upon an elephant’s arse with a large wooden banjo, a couple of defenders who could actually defend and a midfielder whose first touch didn’t send the ball five yards in front of him.

Of course I also still had a goalkeeper who couldn’t catch an STD in a whorehouse but, hey, it’s a start!!

retired_jennie

25th July 2005

“Who? Never heard of him. Is he any good?”

“Mate, this guy’s going to be hotter than Scarlett Johansson naked in the Sahara Desert one day.”

I wasn’t about to ask Gary why, if he was that good, he was firstly without a club and secondly interested in a move to Bristol Rovers. Quite frankly I didn’t care, and so 21-year old midfielder Dean West was on his way down to show us whether Gary’s faith in his abilities was justified. When Dean told me he’d turned down a move to Manchester City to sign for us, I was bloody impressed; he said he just wanted somewhere he’d be guaranteed to play. He’s found somewhere.

Two other players had also arrived over the last few days. Mark Worthington was another English midfielder, he was 23 and since being released by Torquay had been knocking about the lower leagues. He was a recommendation from my assistant Tony; Tony had seen him play a few times and reckoned he was a good bet for the right-sided midfield role. He couldn’t be any worse than what we already had.

And, we’d also signed a player for cash. Real cash. Yep, for the princely sum of £24,000 there’d be another Hamilton at the Memorial Stadium – Gary Hamilton, a 24-year old striker and Northern Irish international no less, was on his way to us from Portadown. I remember thinking that Northern Ireland must be in a right f**king state if they’ve got to call up players from Portadown, but that’s hardly his fault I suppose.

We’d also played four, yes four, friendlies, and guess what? We’d only gone and bloody won them! Mind you, the displays weren’t exactly what I’d call convincing, and the opposition was, well, weak! A brace from Junior Agogo had seen us scrape a 2-1 win over local amateur side Bristol Manor Farm, going in level at half time against a side five rungs below us in the football pyramid was pretty embarrassing though. Agogo was also on target two days later as we struggled again against another local side, Brislington; a 2-0 win but again we were held by the part-timers at half time.

Three days later we’d beaten League of Wales side Port Talbot 3-0, I’d been forced to start with Paul Trollope in midfield and he’d shocked me by scoring twice; while I don’t like the man, maybe it might be worth keeping him around for a while. And lastly, two days ago Gary Hamilton netted on his debut in our 2-0 win over Burnham Ramblers, yet another mob of part-timers I’d never heard of before.

No, hardly what you’d call inspiring stuff, and it only served to confirm that I’d been right about the quality, or lack thereof, the players we had here; save for Hamilton’s cameo in the last game, none of our new signings had been fit enough to take any part as of yet. That’d change when we took on the A Team in our last two matches; Arundel and Aldermaston would be our guests on the 27th and 30th respectively.

retired_jgirl87

Hopefully that site will be up and running again soon. I've seen no indication that it was intending to close down.

retired_jennie

Hopefully that site will be up and running again soon. I've seen no indication that it was intending to close down. </BLOCKQUOTE>

The display on the site's up and running tonight, it's just that you can't darn well post anything!! (which it doesn't tell you until you click the "Post Reply" button, very annoying if you've already coded and imaged your post...)

Yes, hopefully it's just a minor technical fault or maintenance. Shame, though, it was just starting to pick up again lately.

retired_jennie

“Ecuador? Didn’t they beat Argentina not all that long ago?”

“Yeah, 2-0. He played in that game.”

“Come off it, Gary! What would an Ecuadorian international want with Bristol Rovers?”

“Just wants to play in Europe, apparently. For a grand and a bit a week, plus £60k up front, he’s yours.”

The fans had been more than a bit sceptical since I’d come here, but if this didn’t win them over nothing would. Yes, about to join Bristol Rovers Football Club was (drumroll….)

12-times Ecuador international Franklin Agustin Salas!! For £60,000 and on a four-year deal, he’d apparently been delighted to swap the high altitudes of Quito for the high life of Bristol. I wonder if he even knew where it was? In the press conference, when he was asked why he’d signed for us he said he wanted to play at a higher level. If this was a higher level, God only knows what he’d consider a lower one. Highland League, perhaps?

Anyway the fans were happy, Ratty was happy and I was f**king delighted. Salas made his debut, along with the rest of our new signings, as we won 3-0 against both Arundel and Aldermaston; Dean West and Francesco Milano both scored in those games. The next time we stepped out onto the Memorial Stadium’s turf we’d be taking on Barnet at home, in League Two on August 6th.

retired_jennie

5th August 2006

Well, the time for talking, for friendly run outs against overweight part-timers, is very nearly up. This time tomorrow it’ll be Barnet who stride out onto our home turf at 3pm, and this time it’ll be for real. And, I can’t deny those bloody butterflies in my stomach are getting more and more energetic; the club needs a good start, the players need a good start, and I sure need a good start else the media vultures will be circling. Training ended early today, I wanted to give the players a good rest ahead of the game; as for me, I needed a drink! So early evening saw Tony, Ratty, Paul and myself sat outside a bar in the city centre, sipped iced whisky and gave our tactics for tomorrow one last going-over.

Yes, tactics; the bane of every manager’s life! I think this is the one area of the game where you can define bosses into two clear categories – on one hand you’ve got the likes of Arsene Wenger, cool as a cucumber and astute enough to outwit a chess Grand Master blindfolded. And, on the other hand, you’ve got your Kevin Keegans, who play the game “how it’s meant to be” and think tactics are those little round minty things you use to keep your breath fresh for the press conference.

And, I had to admit, there was something rather Keegan-esque about the way I’d been chopping and changing things around. In the last fortnight I’d gone through more positions than you’d find in the Karma Sutra - 4-4-2, 4-3-3, 4-5-1, 4-1-3-2; you name it, I’d tried it. At one point, I’d set my heart on what I thought was an ingenious 4-1-4-2 formation – that’s until Tony helpfully pointed out I had 12 players on the pitch!! I suggested we just send them out anyway and hope no one noticed, but he didn’t reckon the referee would fall for it.


So, in the end, we’d decided to go with a 4-1-4-1. To make that work, I’d need a decent holding midfielder, and the choice was between two teenagers I’d added to my squad over the last week. Johannes Djourou, an 18-year old Swiss midfielder, and Sebastian Larsson, a 19-year old Swedish utility player, have both come west from Arsenal to join the happy Rovers family. Of course we couldn’t afford to buy a Gunner, not even a young one, but Wenger was happy for his starlets to come on a season-long loan deal. They’re both decent players, lacking experience of course but more than good enough for League Two.

retired_jennie

As far as transfers go, it’s been a busy few days down here. Another Premiership kiddie, Lee Grant, has also joined on loan, this time from Aston Villa; Grant’s a holding midfielder, too, but he’s been disappointing in training and needs to improve big time if he’s going to be any more than a bench player for me. Mike Simpson, a 21-year old centre midfielder, and Stuart Fergus, an 18-year old left-footed player, have both signed on free transfers until the end of the season; they’re players with potential for sure, but a season in the reserves beckons while they improve their technique and physical fitness.

I’d also decided to take a chance on 26-year old centre half Mark Earnshaw; Mark had spent last season with non-league Frickley, but my scout Gary had convinced me the lad had talent so in he came on a free until the end of the season.

And, just this morning, I completed the final piece of pre-season business, as Jeroen van Staveren put pen to paper on a two-year contract. Jeroen, a 24-year old Dutch left-sided midfielder, was released by MVV Maastricht last season after making over 50 appearances for them; I haven’t a clue what standard of football MVV play at, but it’s got to be better than we play down here. Anyway, he’s got pace and he looks assured on the ball, his crossing and passing are a bit wayward but he also fancies himself as a bit of a dead-ball expert. We’ll see.

So that’s the comings-in rounded up, what about the goings-out? I’d promised to clear out the dead wood, and the last month had seen a cull of Foot-and-Mouth Disease proportions as no less than 14 players went through the exit door for the final time. Most of them were youth and reserve players, but strikers Jamie Forrester and Richard Walker, centre-half John Anderson and left-back Robbie Ryan were also surplus to requirements; how the hell Ryan had ever managed to hold down a regular spot in that Millwall side that reached the FA Cup Final was one of football’s great mysteries. Thankfully, although they all left on frees I’d managed to find clubs interested in taking them off our hands and so avoiding us having to pay any compensation.