shannon2007

At the moment I would say the purely footballing part lacks the raw emotion of the family part, and this is probably due to the fact that we have not really built up a rappore with the club yet, or it's players? Which will change hopefully over time. It's something I felt was lacking in the MacLeod story because there the actual clubs and players were irrelevant by and large - except Meechan I suppose.

I have an idea for this, not sure if it will totally work but we'll find out won't we


Oh and thanks

shannon2007

One of the biggest problems I have as a manager, particularly when it comes to team selection, is not the fans disagreeing with my selections – I am sure some of them do, especially when we lose and I know supporters often take irrational dislikes to players that their manager seems intent on playing, even when that player appears to the supporters to be rubbish. Pretty often though, that player is the only choice at the time, and the support don't always know what's going on 'behind the scenes'. Besides, the supporters don't live with me 24 hours a day. My family, as much as I love them, do and they are becoming the problem. It's not a bad problem – in fact it can be quite a good problem to be able to discuss over Sunday lunch exactly why I should have taken the right back off at half time and ripped up his contract, and do you want to do the rest of my job as well thank you very much!

Team selection for me though is often not really a matter of choice, but of necessity. This season, we will operate with just twenty three players, all of whom are part time and hold down other jobs both within, but mainly outside the club. Most of our players are paid the pittance of £100 a week, plus the odd mediocre bonus, and only six of squad earn more than £200 a week from us, with midfielder Gary Lunt the highest paid on £350 a week, but Gary, who is 25, also runs the club shop and shows visitors round the stadium as part of his contract. He, like one or two of the other players, also help train the younger teams which are part of the long term life blood of this club. Gary, who started his career at Crewe, probably is our best player and the hope I have is that we can hang on to him but the reality is that unless we move up the way that may prove very difficult.

Of the twenty three paid players we have on the books, only seven remain from last season(*). Goalkeeper Paul Cuss, who is 27, was back up last term and remains with us at least for this one. Paul - who started his career at Huddersfield before moving to Emley, then Farsley – was hoping to become first choice in this season, but that had not actually proven to be the case. With only one other keeper on the books though, his presence is valuable to the whole squad. It would be a total disaster if we lost one of our keepers, and we have to hope Paul has the presence of mind to stay and battle for his place.

Nineteen year Left winger Robert Taylor is the only player with us who came 'through the ranks' (**). Our U-18 side is amateur and Robert is not a bad winger, so we were quite pleased when he actually signed on a (semi) professional and hopefully we can convince him to stay a bit longer. That of course depends on a whole lot of things, and one of the big problems we have with all our players is – if they play too well, we will most certainly lose them! At the opposite end of the scale, 36 year old Welsh defender Marvin Arthur signed up for us last season. Marvin is a good guy to have around the dressing room, and is looking to go into coaching when he retires. We cannot really afford to pay him enough for that, but he does a good deal of coaching around the place for no extra payment and for that I am eternally grateful. My assistant Brian Crowther, along with Steve Newton are the only registered, paid up members of our coaching staff so we appreciate any help we can get really.

The other four players who are still around from last year are 20 year old Dean Twibey, who is back up right back; 30 year old Central defender Danny Hodges who spent a few years at Wimbledon; 24 year old midfielder Alex Tapp, who also spent sometime at Wimbledon; And 25 year old Scots midfielder Craig Callaghan whom we picked up from the Scottish Juniors. There is nothing really outstanding about any of these players – if there was then they almost certainly would not be plying their footballing skills at this level of the game.

New players of course have come in, and we have a fairly large Scottish contingent. Young goalkeeper James Baird (21), had been playing in Trinidad for the past while and he has come over and set himself up as first choice. Former Hibernian Paul Hilland, a 23 year old left back, is someone else we have rescued from Junior football north of the border. Hilland is a good player, and I am sure he will do well for us. Another player snapped up from the Junior game north of the border is former Livingston striker Jason Young, who is now 34 years old. Lilly in particular was pretty scathing of Young, having been at a preseason closed doors games in which he played as a trialist.

'You're not seriously thinking of signing him!' She seemed almost in tears at the time. But there was just something about Young that I liked, a feeling that somehow he, like me, belonged here and although he is certainly not first choice, he will like everyone else be given a chance. And would be foolish as well to ignore the gut feeling that has never let me down before. The other three Scots in the squad are 22 year old left back, Fraser Logan, who was a youth Kilmarnock; 20 year old roght winger/full back Stephen Buzzeo; 25 year old right winger Dean Muir, who had spells in the senior game with Hamilton and Queen of the South, and is another to come direct from the Scottish Juniors. The final player in our mini Scottish clan is right back Graeme Law, who is 21. Graeme is a good player, having spent a fair amount of time at York, before a brief sojourn north of the border with Dundee and I am sure he will be one of our key players this season.

Thirty year old South African central defender, Marcello Fernandes, is the only non-UK player we have in the squad. He is a good player with useful experience and has played in the UK for a fair while now. Twenty three year old left back Neil Vaughan forms, with Marvin Arthur, 23 year old midfielder Steffan Hughes and 17 year old defender Lloyd Evans, our smaller Welsh tribe, and the rest of the players are English. Paul Doughty is a 20 year old central defender who started his career at Blackpool; 21 year old striker Jon Main, and fellow strikers David Godley, 27, and Gary Prigent complete the squad. Prigent has also been on the books at Wimbledon, as well as Crystal Palace.

So then, those are the twenty three players who will bring us joy, despair or mediocrity in the season ahead, and will no doubt cause no end of arguments between the 4-500 or so Avenue fans we expect this season. As well as of course at Sunday lunch time in my house, which is far more important. None of these players are household names around the country, no-one will be writing reams and reams about how any of these players should be called up to their respective national sides and although we have what I believe is a good pool of players for this level, it is hard to see that many if indeed any this group will be able to make a living from the game as full time professionals.

It is though, the squad of players we have, and come hell or high water, they will simply have to roll up their sleeves, pull up their socks, apply some elbow grease and get on with the job. But don't play too well, we don't really want to lose you. The joys of lower league management!



(*)None of these players were in fact with the Avenue in the 2005-06 season, but I have taken the liberty of pretending they were for the sake of the story.

(**)Robert Taylor did not really come 'through the ranks' at the Avenue but as he has no club history it is fair to say he did, for the sake of the story – everything is for the sake of the story

(***) I appologize to HD that this is not of the same quality as the other parts of the story, but tbh the squad has to be introduced at some point, and it's never going to be that exciting! (The idea I might have had, didn't really materialise)

BarryLFC

Actually, this was significantly better than the last football bit!

shannon2007

Didn't think the other bit was quite that bad ffs

shannon2007

'That was incredible dad!' Lily's face as aglow as she greeted me after the match. 'If we play like that every week, surely we'll win this league easily!'

That was high praise indeed, my eldest daughter is one of my worst critics and usually finds fault with the side, even in victory. To be honest though, she was totally right about this one, it had been a fantastic showing from the side in their first home league match of the season – but it was far to early to even think about promotion. Our opening match had been away to Kettering, and as expected it was a tough baptism into the higher league. The home side though were fairly dissapointing in that they did not have one single effort on target, but they did prove tough to break down. I would have been happy with a draw, but an injury time strike form left back Paul Hilland gave us all three points, and in the end I felt we deserved the win. It was a great way to start the campaign, but it gave little indication of what was to follow three days later when Vauxhall Motors paid us a visit.

It was our first home League match of course. Lilly was allowed to attend, but the evening kick off was deemed too late for David and he was none to happy about that. He was even less happy the next morning at breakfast when his elder sister regaled him with details of our 'wonderful' performance. To be fair to our visitors, it was an uphill struggle for them after having a defender dismissed for a foul on Prigent inside the area, with just over a minute of the match gone. The referee not only sent Carl MacAuley off, he awarded a penalty which Jon Main converted and from that point there was no way back for Vauxhall. Gary Prigent himself got on the scoresheet after just thirteen minutes, and Jon Main added third on the half hour. It would have been easy for our players just to sit back after that, but they wanted more goals and they got them. Two minutes after half time, Gary Lunt opened his account for the season and four minutes from the end, Dean Muir finished off an excellent evenings work to send most of five hundred and fifty two crowd – including my delighted eleven year old daughter – home very happy indeed.

Our third match of the season was away at Stalybridge Celtic, and again we played well. Jon Main from the penalty spot after eleven minutes, and a second half strike from Gary Lunt were enough to keep our 100% record, and an excellent start to the season. David was decidedly not amused by the fixture list, as our next home match was also a Wednesday evening game. Marvin Arthur and David Godley bagged the goals which saw us to our fourth successive win and left me with a very happy daughter and an extremely frustrated son. Away to Southport, we went two nil down one minute into the second half, but just as it seemed our record was about to be smashed to bits, late goals from Jon Main and Dean Muir rescued a draw and a very important one at that.

David thinks the people who make the fixture list up hate him, as our third home league match of the season took place on a Monday afternoon, but at least he and Lilly managed to get home from school in time to be able to attend the second half. Unfortunately for them though, all three goals in this match against Harrogate came within the first twenty one minutes. Gary Prigent's third minute opener was cancelled out just four minutes later, before Jon Main scored what turned out to be the winner. That win took us to the top of the table, after Boston United lost their first points of the season in a 1-0 loss at Kettering. August had come and gone in a haze of six matches, but such is the way at this level and as we headed into September, the month when we would make our entrance into the FA Cup, we sat clear at the top of the Blue Square Conference North.

September started with our first Saturday home league match of the season, which delighted David and his little sister. Becky is not yet six, but she was desperate to come along to a match, to see what all the fuss is about. Denise and I were worried that Becky would be bored rigid and want to go home long before the end. To our five year old daughter's great credit though, she sat through the whole match and even seemed to have some kind of understanding as to what was happening. She did ask though why we had won by two nil, when the man from the other team had scored a goal. He had, of course, put the ball into his own net, and Lilly had been quite disdainful when Jason Young came off the bench to score his first goal as an Avenue player – a lucky toe poke she called it, and remained firmly convinced that Young simply wasn't good enough to play for her girls side, never mind the Avenue.

Our reign at the top of the table had to end sometime, and away to Telford it did. The side battled hard, but in the end we just could not break down a stubborn home defence, and so our first defeat of the season was inflicted, by a single goal to nil. I wasn't too disheartened, because Telford are a good side, and we had been a fair enough match for them. In midweek we travelled to Worcester where an 89th minute goal from David Godley – his second of the night - gave us a hard fought 2-1 triumph. Things were looking good and there was much rejoicing in the Wakefield household as the draw for the second qualifying round of the FA Cup paired us with Skelmersdale United. The joy was not just because this was a tie we should win, but mainly because it was at home on a Saturday afternoon.

Before our road to Wembley began, we had two more League matches to get out of the way. Gary Prigent looked to have sealed the win with an 89th minute goal at home to Workington, but poor concentration in the dying seconds from our defence allowed the visitors to snatch a point that they barely deserved. Our final league match of September was away to a Tamworth side who themselves were looking at a promotion battle. This day though was turn into a disaster for the home club – and Cameron Stuart in particular. The hapless left back put the ball into his own net, not once but twice, David Godley scored in between and we left with an excellent win that confirms us in second place behind Boston, and although it is still very early in the season, we are certainly looking good for a challenge at going up.

And so on the last day of September, 2006, when my son David gets to attend his first ever match in the FA Cup. Last season we won at this stage, before going out in the third qualifying round, both matches away from home. David is quite excited, although a little miffed that Becky will also be attending as he feels she should have to wait until she is eight to see an FA Cup match, such is the logic of young children. We should not underestimate our opponents of course – in many ways this is their cup final, a chance for a little bit of glory and progression to the next round. We won't, of course, go all the way to Wembley, that would be ridiculous but if we can reach the Third Round proper, I will naturally be delighted. Skelmersdale will be out to stop that dream, but if we play the kind of football we have been doing so far this season, then I am fairly confident that our first step on the route to glory will be taken successfully.

shannon2007

Many people in English football have special feelings for the FA Cup. Personally, I do not. Oh I'm not denying there is something magical about Telford United travelling to take on Liverpool in the third round, something that stirs the blood and imagination of most football fans. Cups can be great levellers, the one tiny chance that a small team will upset the odds. For me, personally, I have never really felt any great joy about playing – or managing – in the FA Cup, and perhaps that is because as player I was never involved in any giant killing acts, and as a manager my club has so far not had any kind of run in the tournament. At Leeds, the best season I had in the FA Cup was a run to the Semi-Finals in 1998. In that year we were held away from home in a 1-1 draw at Stafford Rangers. For me though, there had been nothing 'magical' about that match – it had been a horrible game and we were just happy to take it back to Elland Road, where we won by six goals to one.

So why, therefore, have I just had this incredibly strange dream on the eve of our 2nd qualifying round tie with Skelmersdale? My dream was not about Skelmersdale, and I don't even think I featured in it. Instead it seemed to be a match against what I think was Wycombe Wanderers, Bradford Park Avenue had won somehow but the person receiving all the plaudits was not me. It was not even someone I had ever heard of, yet strangely enough one of the goalscorers seemed to be none other Jason Young. I could have understood if I'd had a dream about losing to Skelmersdale. In the whole concept of dreams revealing subconscious thought, that would make sense. It makes no sense to me whatsoever to dream about my club beating Wycombe Wanderers and there is a part of me that is wondering if somehow I am not slowly going insane.

Although I do feel nervous about this match, my nerves are nowhere near the obvious excitement of David and Becky. Lilly has, of course, been through this before and claims it is no big deal – although I do think even she is a little bit excited. David is thrilled to bits that he finally gets to see an FA Cup match. I am not sure that he will not be utterly dissapointed – I think he might actually be expecting to see the FA Cup itself – when he realises this is just really another game of football. Becky has been excited for the past two days, she took ages to get to sleep last night and she definitely does seem to think this match is different from the others she has been to – although I seriously doubt she has any real concept of why that is and part of her excitement is generated through her big brother, whom she absolutely adores.

Our third child has always been the most lively and excitable of our brood. After the difficulties surrounding the birth of David, we had not planned to have any more children. Both Denise and myself did want a large family, but the doctors could not assure us that any future pregnancies would be smooth going, or indeed that any future babies would survive. It came therefore as a bit of a shock when Denise announced our third child was on the way. Even in the womb, Becky was a lively one and Denise swears she kicked and moved far more than any of the others. Becky came eight days early, but the birth went well and she was a normal, healthy and very vocal baby. Having named our first daughter after my grandmother it seemed only fair to name our second after one of Denise's and so Rebecca Wakefield became the latest in our little family, and almost immediately Lilly had shortened her name to Becka, which she still calls her whilst the rest of us call her Becky – unless she has been naughty of course, in which case her mother will use her full name.

None of my kids are saints – that would be ridiculous – but Becky is what her mother would call the impiest. I certainly love all my children, but I find Becky the hardest to discipline, as she is not as quick as the others to forgive, and I see in her a lot of my own temprament. Whilst the other kids will appologize almost straight away if they are in trouble, Becky will storm of and sulk, and it can sometimes take whole days before she comes round. I fear she is, in many ways, like me in that respect and I am dreading the whole teenage phase with her more than with any of the others. Today though, her little face was aglow with wonder, her deep Hazel eyes – Becky is the only one of our children to have taken my eye colour, the rest have their mothers blue, except of course for Benjy. - full of joy and expectation as, hand in hand with her big sister and brother, she made her way out to the car for the trip to the stadium. Little did she know it at the time – indeed little did any of us know this of course – but she was about to witness one of the most incredible matches any of us will probably ever see, the sort of match that only occurs once in a blue moon.

Skelmersdale had clearly not arrived here just to make up the numbers, and although Gary Prigent gave us a 20th minute lead out visitors were level seven minutes later. That was how things stood at half time, and I told my players in the dressing room that they had better buck up their ideas. I did not want to have to deal with the upset of my little girl if they did not win this match – and upset I just knew she would be. My players of course probably did not really care that much about their boss's precocious five year old daughter being upset over this game, but they did have pride of their own to preserve. I will claim though that it was indeed my half time chat that made them go out and raise their game, as by just after an hour we were four one up and coasting. Prigent had bagged himself a second and David Godley also found the net twice, and Skelmersdale looked a team who were badly beaten and just wanted to go home.

Suddenly though, from nowhere really, they got a goal back on 71 minutes and that seemed to rekindle their belief as three minutes later they had a third. We were on the back foot now, and there was a real danger that we were going to capitulate in the most dramatic – and embarrasing – of fashions. Somehow though, the players regained their composure and Marvin Arthur sealed the win on 89 minutes, and we were into the next round. The draw for that would see us at home again, a match with Rossendale United, in just two weeks time. And if that game turned out to be anything like this, then I think I may have to get something from the doctors for my frizzled nerves. I am not a convert just yet, but perhaps a little bit of the 'magic' of the cup is indeed starting to rub off on me.

shannon2007

I'm not sure that it's my sanity that really is in doubt. There is for sure something utterly stranger going on, and it has led me to think about something that I have always poured scorn on – so called 'past lives'. Except that being born before, a few hundred years ago does not really fit with the dreams I have had throughout my life. At least, I don't think it does. However, what if these dreams are not related to a past life, but are instead psychic thoughts being transmitted somehow through the ether from an alternative life? Is it possible that out there, somewhere, there are alternate versions of 'me' and that somehow, someway, I am picking up their thoughts, their dreams? Then again, that does sound the talk of a crazy man, and perhaps I should make an appointment with a psychiatrist.

Of course all my dreams until now could probably be easily explained away. My visions of my parents, of Denise, worries over my children – even the feeling I had on walking through the doors of this club – could probably all be explained away as stress, fear, my subconscious picking up on the very real anxieties that I may have been suffering at particular times in my lives. What cannot be explained though are these dreams about this cup tie...... but wait you might want to know more details first, then you can decide if I am going crazy, or if this is all one huge coincidence.

The match between the rounds of the Cup saw Alfreton come to Horsfall, and there is very little to tell about a game that never really got off the ground and ended in a 0-0 draw. At this level, you cannot always expect your players to be brilliant in every match, and as it happens I was reasonably pleased with the result. The Cup tie with Rossendale was much more straightforward than the first round. My only dream before this match was about Jason Young – a dead Jason Young. It simply did not make any sense to me – unless perhaps telling me that Young was rubbish and I should not have signed him? I have no idea really. The match passed off without incident, Alex Tapp and Gary Prigent scored the goals that saw us through to the fourth qualifying round – and Jason Young, who didn't play in the match – is still very much alive.

Our final qualifying round match would be, potentially at least, a much tougher affair, as we drew fellow Blue Star North side Southport, away from home. We had already drawn on their ground earlier in the season, and so we knew that at least we could compete with them. Back in the League, a trip to Hucknall saw the the home side end with nine men, we had Marcello Fernandes red carded, and Hucknall's John Burns sent the ball into his own net. Other goals from Marvin Arthur and Gary Prigent helped us to an easy enough victory and we are right in there as contenders to reach what is now known as the Blue Square Premier League. We were therefore in great form as we travelled to Southport, looking to reach the 1st round proper of the FA Cup for the first time in many years. Injuries though meant we had no back up keeper, and Jason Young would make his first competitive start of the season. He though did not score, although to be fair he also didn't play that badly as we ran out comfortable three nil winners. A Craig Callaghan penalty on nine minutes sent us on our way, added to by second half strikes from Alex Tapp and David Godley and we were in the hat.

Being the 1st round – and really wanting to reach the 3rd and get a huge name away from home, and the financial windfall that comes with that – we were looking for a home draw with anyone from below our league. I almost fainted when we were drawn out of the hat away – to a League Two side. And not just any League Two side, but the side who would be sitting in third place in that Division when we went to play them, a side called – Wycombe Wanderers. It was simply too much for me to bear, and I either am going utterly insane, or something incredibly strange is going on here. I only wish I knew just what the hell it was .

Or perhaps I really am better off not knowing........

shannon2007

Before heading off for our date with destiny in Wycombe, we still had two league matches to take care of. It always amazes me how full time professional players complain about 'too many matches', whilst at this end of the spectrum the clubs have more matches to play and most of the players have real jobs outside of football as well. Another former Football League side, Barrow, were our next opponents. Despite struggling badly in the League and finding themselves near the foot of the table, Barrow were also into the 1st round proper of the FA Cup. There would be though no joy for Barrow on this windy, cold November evening as Jon Main and David Godley helped themselves to braces apiece and we had a fine four nil triumph in front of just over 1600 fans, a very healthy turn out indeed.

With Gary Prigent injured – he would sadly miss the trip to Wycombe – and Jon Main struggling with our hectic schedule, I had no choice but to give Jason Young his first league start of the season at home to Redditch. Lilly was not amused, claiming that surely there had to be someone else we could play instead. The truth was though, there simply was no-one else, and besides I really didn't think Jason was quite as bad as Lilly as making out. This match was to come close to changing my eldest daughters mind, and sent our soaring crowd home with delighted smiles on their faces – and handing us a real boost to our confidence ahead of the impending Cup tie. David Godley found the back of the net four times, to take his total to an impressive nine in nine league matches, Gary Lunt was also on target and Craig Callaghan even had the luxury of missing a penalty. And Jason Young? The ageing Scots never-has-been rattled in a glorious hattrick and even Lilly was jumping for joy at that.

'It was probably just a fluke mind' she smiled at me after the game.

For once we had no midweek match, and so the players had seven days to recover themselves for the big Cup tie. With first choice right back Graeme Law injured, and Gary Prigent failing a late fitness test Dean Twibey would play in place of Law, but up front I had to choose between Jon Main, who had scored seven times in eight starts, or Jason Young who had only made two starts all season – but did have four goals. Whether it was coincidence, fears about my selection choice, I once more dreamed about playing Wycombe Wanderers in the Cup. A much more vivid dream this time, the Avenue had come back from 2-0 down to win 3-2 and although Jason Young didn't score, somehow in my dream I had a voice telling me to play him. I was not overly concerned about this dream, it was probably a perfectly reasonable dream to have on such a night and certainly could even have been predicted. Yet the dream was so vivid that for a few minutes after I woke I really thought we had beaten Wycombe, but none of the people who had scored meant anything to me at all.

Normally, the children don't travel to away games unless they are very local. It is usually too far for Denise to drive and the children would be home too late. This time though I relented. I had a real feeling that we were going to win this match, and my feelings were never wrong. It would be cruel to prevent Lilly and David in particular from attending what could be a glorious occasion for the side. Becky was not feeling well, and so she would remain with the younger kids at Granny & Grandads and was cheered up when I promised to bring her back a match ball signed by the Wycombe team. Not that she would have a clue of course who those players were, and I could have written random names myself on any old ball, she would never have known. I did though get her a real match ball, signed by both sets of players. One day, she might learn to read and realise she had been duped and that was a risk I was not willing to take.

There was much excitement on the coach to Wycombe, the players were in high spirits and we had a real belief that we could do something here. Although our hosts were flying high in League Two, sitting in third place, they had just lost at home to Stockport County, so they were certainly far from invincible. I decided on the final line up as we entered into the stadium, and although a voice was telling me to start Jason Young, I just knew that would not be fair on Main and so he got the nod up front. Jason was happy enough to have a place on the bench again, accepting his place in the pecking order. He was probably not exactly happy at my decision, but he certainly did not make his feelings, if they were negative, known to me.

We started the match nervously, in front of a fairly disappointing crowd of just over 2000. We would not be making our fortune from this tie, but we did make enough money to keep the bank manager happy for now. Twelve minutes into the game, Scott McGleish sent Wycombe in front, and on the half hour Gary Lunt limped off injured, and was replaced by Steffan Hughes who made his competitive debut for the club. We held out till half time, only one nil down and the players had every right to be generally pleased with their performances. I told them we still had a chance to win this tie, simply go out and give it your best shot. I almost added that we had after all come back from 2-0 down before catching myself.

The second half saw us at least match our higher league opponents, but it just didn't seem to be happening in front of goal. I could almost hear the groans from Lilly in the stand as, with sixty four minutes on the clock, I sent Jason Young on to replace Jon Main. I am not sure if I was really expecting Young to make a difference, to somehow produce the magic that would take us past this side, and in the end I felt strangely depressed when the referee blew his whistle, and we were out of the Cup. We had not played badly, had been at least a match for the team lying third in the Coca Cola League Two, and yet despite my dreams and my feelings, we had lost. And I couldn't help wondering if, if, not starting Jason Young had cost us this tie.

But that, surely, was the road further into insanity.

shannon2007

What exactly is going here?

It's a question I have asked myself so many times in my life. I suppose it's a question many people ask, what's going on, why is it going, why are we here? Where are we going? But my question is a lot more personal than that, what exactly is going on with my life?.

When I think back over the years, I wonder about certain things that have happened. Why, for instance did I suddenly blurt out to Denise that I wanted to marry her all those years ago, when it was totally out of character for me to do so. I had known her for a fair while, never had the courage to even come close to telling her how I felt, and then somehow from nowhere I am telling her I love her! It simply does not make sense to me.

And why on earth did I turn down Rangers? I supported them all my life, would have given my right arm to play for them and then, when the chance comes, I turn them down to follow some girl who at that time may or may not have become my wife, to a town where I had never been, signing for a club I had no real empathy with. What has made me do these things? Because sure as hell, I can't help feeling that at times something is trying to direct my life on a certain path, a path that I would surely not have trod given half a chance. And that, surely cannot be good?

And who the hell IS Jason Young. A player who had a fairly undistinguished career, ended up playing on the Junior circuit in Scotland and yet I end up not only signing him, but having dreams about his death, voices in my mind telling me that I should pick him as he is the key to our winning. It's stupid – how can a no-bit player with no talent be the key to anything. I cannot even remember actually sending anyone to scout this player come to think of it, and I have no idea how I decided to invite him for a trial.

I think I am suffering from a deep depression. All my life I have been guided by my dreams and my instincts, believing them to be infallible. Yet I dreamed that we beat Wycombe Wanderers in the Cup – a dream that quite clearly did not come true. And that led me to think, ever since I asked Denise to marry me, most of my dreams have actually NOT actually come to fruition. I dreamt that Denise would die – yet she is still very much alive. I had visions of my children in mortal danger – yet they are still very much alive, healthy and positively glowing. Now you must understand, I love my wife and my children more than anything, and I certainly do not want them to be dead just to prove myself some kind of psychic.

Suddenly realising that perhaps I am not, after all, capable of acute intuitive thoughts and visions is a very unnerving experience. I should end this. These dreams, these visions, they must stop, and if they cannot stop they must be dealt with and put in proper perspective. They are just that – dreams. Most dreams really have no basis in reality and I have been stupid to think that mine have. I have considered getting professional help, and you know what? I think I may just go through with that. If only to have someone else, someone who has no real influence over my life, to tell me that I am in fact NOT insane. That in fact I just have a very active imagination, that I worry far too much and that I need to learn to react in much calmer fashion to the crises that life throws my way.

There is a sound, realistic explanation for everything after all, isn't there. My family and my football, that is all that should concern me. Nothing else matters. So why then, having dreamed last night that Jason Young died in a car accident, am I driving to his house. Am I indeed mad? Did I think I would just turn up and his door and say,

'Hi Jason, you're going to die.'

Turn around, go home you fool.

But what if........ but what if nothing. It means nothing, stop this fantasy now, before you really do drive yourself round the bend.

And another thought just came to me..... exactly who is Ryan?

shannon2007

I don't normally ask for feedback because without wanting to sound too arrogant, I have enough confidence in my own abilities as a writer.

However, I would like some thoughts on this story if people would be so kind as to take some time. I'm not looking for 'this is brilliant/crap PM' type comments, something a bit more constructive.

How does the storyline hold together? It is confusing? If there is anyone here who has read the original Avenue story, does having read that in anyway help or hinder from what you've read here so far?

The story is supposed to have an element of confusion in it - because the main protaganist is confused to a degree. I need to know people's thoughts in order to progress, there's no point waffling on if people are thinking, man this is total nonsense!