retired_Genesis777

Pre-Season Friendlies Round-up


An assortment of the few sides poorer than us joined League 2 (I think) Carlisle on our fixtures schedule. Even in these grim Edgar-less times, nothing less than 5 wins was acceptable.

Ashton Utd. (A) D3-3 Scorers: Steven Rigby, Paul Evans, own goal Great match, where we outshoot them 10-2 and out owngoaled them 2-1.
Chesham (A) W2-1 Scorers: Tom Lee, Michael Atkinson effortless victory that should've been greater.
Sutton Utd. (A) D0-0 the old pattern returned: we failed to score when we should've got 20.
Bishop's Stortford (A) D0-0 as against Sutton.
King's Lynn (A) D1-1 Scorer: Michael Atkinson sickeningly poor match that saw Wilson injured for 1-2 months.
Carlisle (H) D0-0 dull, as always. If it gets worse, I’ll probably quit.

They didn’t go well. If I can’t get Worcester to adopt the “what the <generic swear word; my players were a varied bunch> is defence?” of my Leicester side, I’ll probably gnaw my tongue off in embarrassment.

To summerise, if we don’t improve, relegation looks a certainty.

retired_Genesis777

James walked quietly into Brian’s office and saw him watching the television. Brian was clearly immersed in whatever it was, so James made no initial attempt to catch his attention, not least because he was fairly sure he’d already been spotted. After a few moments, Brian looked up at him, saying, ‘we still haven’t caught Adam, James.’

‘We’ll get him eventually,’ James replied, knowing and half-fearing it was true.

‘I guess. Anyway, what are you doing n my office at this time of night?’

‘Er…’ replied James, unsure of how to phrase his request, ‘you know that last night back in “real” Leicester. Well, I was wondering if we have any CCTV of Brown Tower on that night.’

‘Any particular reason?’

‘It’s just a hunch based on something Brown said.’

‘Would you care to fill me in?’

‘It’s nothing worth worrying about; truth be told, I’m doing this mainly because I’m bored.’

‘Fair enough, though I’m fairly sure that there must be more interesting things you could do. Anyway, we brought a lot of stuff over from the “real” world that we didn’t need: Brown, furniture, a cat; that sort of trash. We stuffed most of it in a warehouse, except Brown obviously.’

‘Maybe you should’ve,’ muttered James. Aloud he said, ‘so where is this warehouse?’

Brian took a moment to shuffle through the twin mountains of paperwork that adorned his desk, before finding what he was looking for. He handed James an old-looking, iron key that was rusting slightly and which had a post-it note stuck onto it, kind of ruining the grandiose and quaintness of the key. ‘That key’ll get you in the warehouse; the address is on the post-it.'

‘Thanks,’ James said, as he left the office.

Once James had left, Brian tapped a button on his intercom. Speaking into it, he said, ‘get someone to follow Lloyd.’

retired_Genesis777

Note: It appears that I can't copy and past correctly anymore as this should've been at the top of my last post. That said, I don't think it affects the way it reads that much.

Having completed that depressing sequence of freindlies, I returned back to my stable (I really need to get a house – living with a goat can’t be good) and attempted to drift off to sleep. As had happened for a while now, I found myself unable to sleep, wondering what James had done. Eventually, I gave up and switched on the news. As I watched, I was brought out of my half-conciseness by something that was said.

‘Police are still hunting for one of Britain’s most notorious criminals a month after his daring escape. Th man in question is Adam “King Fraud” Jackson. Mr Jackson disappeared just minutes after Leicester City Football Club discovered a large sum of money missing, prompting fears he may have been working with someone. If you see Mr Jackson, police have advised that you do not approach him.

It wasn’t the words that interested me, but the picture that flashed up on the screen of a face I recognised. It was the man in the office; the one whom I’d sold out to James. So, he’d escaped. That was interesting. It raised a whole lot of questions about just what was happening but I’d grown used to them by now and could just ignore them as I fell asleep a lot happier minutes later.

retired_jgirl87

Nice effort that you've got going here, blanklook. KUGTW :thup:

retired_Genesis777

Thanks Spav

***

August 2006


Bored one night, I’d searched the web in an attempt to find any website that would offer promotion odds for the conference and after a few hours I found one. There we were at 33-1, and with my expert knowledge of gambling (a necessity in football), I was quickly able to identify that these odds weren’t good. But then, our aim for the season was not promotion; it was to avoid embarrassing ourselves too badly.

Our conference campaign kicked off in Woking, where we were expected to lose. Despite our pre-season form, we started the game playing well and dominated the match. It took barely 20 minutes for this to pay off, as Ian Chandler nodded in a Scott Nixon corner for a goal on his debut. We played even better in the second half, and when Chandler played a perfect pass to Paul Evans, who proceeded to slot it into the net, it looked like we'd made a fantastic start to the league. Then, we noticed the incompetent linesman was waving his flag, indicating Evans was offside. Replays showed just how wrong he was, but it motivated Woking to try and score. They still couldn't as Simon Gould smothered their only decent attack and we ran out deserved 1-0 winners.

An even more difficult match was next, against Shrewsbury, relegated from League Two last season and amongst the favourites for the league title. We played well, setting up a few opportunities and were generally the better side. For the first three minutes, at least. Then, Tayfun decided to get himself sent off for a needless foul on the half-way line. The resulting Shrewsbury move saw Richard Overton score a beautiful goal from 25 yards out that curled into the top corner of the net. I didn't care how good a goal it was though, as I continued to watch my side struggle and play defensively, occasionally getting a chance but always wasting it. Then, a good through-ball from James Davies saw Michael Gray double their lead just before half-time and it looked grim for us. I spent most of half-time shouting at Tayfun about his stupidity, since neither goal would have been scored if we'd had 11 men on the pitch. Apparently wanting to be shouted at himself, Derek Gallagher decided to give away a stupid penalty early in the second half and was lucky not to be sent off. They scored, of course, and made it 4-0 shortly after as Steve Jenkins outpaced the ageing Chris Holt. We were left dismayed and thinking of what would've been if Tayfun weren’t an idiot. The fact that their goalkeeper got man of the match says it all.

Dagenham & Redbrige's visit to Worcester provided only frustration. A display of multiple chances wasted by us as we dominated the match, getting only two of our ten shots on target. One of them went in, but for the second time in three matches a fair goal was ruled out, this time as Buckley was incorrectly ruled offside. Dag & Red, on the back foot all game long, finally got a decent chance midway through the second half, where James Godoy beat our defence with a great through ball that allowed Alexey Morozov to get the winning goal. In truth, it was closer to being offside than Buckley was. The 40 or so minutes left in the match yeiled a few chances but my strikers incompetence remained as we sank to another undeserved loss.

York, one of the league's best sides and the side who knocked us out of the FA Trophy last season, were the next visitors to St. George's Lane, this time in a Conference match. Once again we were the better side in the match and once again we failed to score. York didn't manage to get a decent chance either and the match petered out into a dull 0-0 draw. We'd have taken it beforehand, but that match meant we hadn't scored in over 5 hours of football.

A trip to Cambridge saw our defence implode. A Jonathan Collins brace gave them an early lead, before Chris Holt decided to head the ball into his own net to put us 2-0 down in 15 minutes. Cambridge remained the better side for the rest of the half, but our defence managed to stop them scoring again. We played better after the break and deserved to score at least thrice. But it wasn't too be as poor finishing from Atkinson and Evans meant we got nothing and a late, undeserved Darren Peters goal for Cambridge made the scoreline 0-3. We were poor, but we weren’t that poor.

A record of Played 5, Scored 1 and Conceded 8 was appalling, especially since we hadn't played particularly poorly. It was enough to leave us in 19th place, just one point clear of the relegation spots. Annoyed at our lack of ability to convert dominance into goals, I abandoned the 4-3-3 that had got us promoted and moved to a 4-4-2 in hopes of getting results we deserved.

retired_Genesis777

Merthyr Tydfil are a welsh side who ply their trade in the lower echelons of English football, and my scouts had noticed them, and, more importantly, one of their players who would fit into our squad. The player in question was Welshman Mark Williams, who was clearly talented and is capable of playing anywhere on the left side of the pitch. Since he looked like he’s improve Worcester (hardly a great acheivement) and we clearly needed to change our style of play somehow, I placed a phone call with their manager, Dean Owen.

‘Merthyr Tydfil. How may we help you?’

Was I really the only manager without a secretary? How could a small welsh club have one but I can’t? These thoughts raced through my mind I decided to raise the matter with Gary Hall, my boss later. But, before that I got back to the matter at hand. ‘I’d like to speak to Mr. Owen please.’

There was silence for a moment, then a gruff voice half-shouted down the phone, ‘what do you want?’

Moving the phone away from my ear, I said, ‘I wish to purchase Mark Williams off your side.’

‘And who the hell are you?’

‘Mathew Brown, manager of Worcester.’

‘Hmm.’ Even that was shouted. ‘And how much money are you offering?’

We needed him quickly and we’d made a large profit last year, so I decided against actually negotiating. ‘£16,000.’

‘He’s yours.’

And a few days later, Mark Williams signed a contract to join Worcester. We would’ve had a press conference. But at this level, you simply stick the player on the field and hope a few fans notice that there’s a new face on the pitch. Either way, I was hopeful of doing better in September now that we had a new player and a new tactic. We could hardly do much worse.

***

Meanwhile, a few miles north-eastish of me, James was walking into a warehouse, determined that he would find the video today. This was his forth visit and, while he’d found a few tapes on other visits, he’d yet to find what he was searching for. The warehouse wasn’t that big, but there was no filing system and everything had been stuck in haphazardly, thrown in here to be forgotten. Trying to ignore the scurrying of rats, he flicked his torch on (the bulbs were dead and no-one had bothered replacing them) and journeyed into the warehouse. James examined pile after pile of assorted things. He picked up the occasional video that was sticking out of a pile, but he could only find old films. Occasionally, he would find one that offered no sign of what was on the video. When he found these, he would pick them up and carry them back to his car, sticking them in the boot. Eventually, he ran out of space in his car and returned to his home.

Once he’d taken the tapes into his house, he shoved the first one into his video player. a few moments of it told him that it was a dull video presentation for something business-related. He took the video out and stuck in another and witnessed what seemed to be a pirated film. It went on like this for a while, with dozens of tapes showing porn, pirated films and the occasional home movie. Once or twice, he had come across a CCTV tape and felt his interest spike for a moment, before he realised it wasn’t the one he wanted. He grew tired watching the tapes flicker into life before flickering out again a moment later and after a while, he decided he’d take a break. A few moments after deciding this, he found the one he was looking for: the one that showed the CCTV footage of the door into my Leicester office.

He watched the fuzzy images for a moment, then pressed the fast forward button to zoom through the hours of nothing. Eventually, he saw someone enter. Pausing and then rewinding a little to get a better shot, James identified me on the screen. Muttering under his breath, James went back to fast forwarding through the nothing. Then he spotted someone else. His timing was better this time, but he still needed to rewind a little for a better shot to convince himself he wasn’t imagining who that was on the screen.

‘Dad...’

retired_Genesis777

September 2006

Next up were Exeter, who we'd beaten in the FA Trophy the season before, and we played the same way we always seemed to. We constantly pressured the opponent, yet never managed to dominate or score. Exeter played in a similar fashion, yet they managed to score, if only the once. It came via Paul Burns after just 24 minutes, leaving us time to get back in the match. Still, if you believed the bookies, a 1-0 defeat was a good result.

Burton, one of the few teams below us, was our next opposition and just for the novelty value, we were expected to win. The first half went like most of our matches last season: we dominated but failed to score. We grew yet more dominant and attacking in the second half. And for once it worked as Matthew Buckley broke our 10-hours-long run of not scoring by banging a rebound from a saved Paul Evans shot into the goal. It looked offside but nobody (on our side) cared as we finally got a win. It was just 1-0 but we'd deserved more and got promoted last season playing that way.

After finally getting a match against one of the relegation-threatened sides, we got a match against Kidderminster, one of the league's best sides. Still, our confidence was at a high point for this season ('twas merely atrocious). It showed, as Michael Atkinson had us ahead within 20 minutes and we went into half time undeserved leaders. We did not improve in the second half and Kidderminster pulled one back through David Pritchard. Their winning goal was the result of an idiotic backpass to Palmer that was stolen by their attacker Matt Guest, who scored from near the halfway line as a result. The remaining time, or injury time as it is affectionately known, saw constant pressure from us on Kidderminster, but we weren’t able to score. To rub salt into the wound, Derek Gallagher broke his jaw in the match and would be out for up to a month.

Canvey Island was, like us, hovering just above the relegation zone. So, when we faced them, I was expecting a close match and hoped we could edge it. When we went 2-0 down within 20 minutes, it didn't look good. The fact that we managed to avoid another before half-time was scant comfort and I made this clear to my team. We played better after that but didn't create a real chance. They didn't either, but Tom Lee set one up for them, giving Chris Lamb a chance he couldn’t miss. A 3-0 loss was harsh, but we didn't deserve to win. Our problem was clear from the stats:

Canvery Island: 7 shots, 3 on target, 3 goals
Worcester City: 6 shots, 1 on target, 0 goals

We needed to improve our shooting. Doing the same with our defence was also advisable. A whole new team would be preferable.

At the end of last season, I stated that Worcester were better than Scarborough after York had trounced them in the FA Trophy final. The first half of our match against them did nothing to change my mind as we dominated but yet again didn't score (there's a theme here). After the break our opponents were a lot better and managed to do what we couldn't with Jamie Garner grabbing the match’s lone goal for them. The final result was an annoying 1-0 defeat. I maintain we’re still better than they are, though.

Weymouth had been promoted from the Conference south last season after losing 15 matches. Considering only 8 Conference North sides had lost more than that, we were arguably better. But it was they who were now hanging around the playoffs and had won their first four matches of the season. Despite this we were still made slight favourites and the first 40 minutes saw a tightly contested game. Then Weymouth scored. Then Weymouth scored again. 2-0 down was harsh and I sent my team back out knowing this. The second half saw us play a lot better and Paul Evans scored a goal to pull one back. It was ruled out for offside (incorrectly) but when he got #2 a few minutes later, that wasn't. Weymouth also had a goal ruled out for offside (correctly, this time) and contented themselves with time wasting for the rest of the game. It worked and they ran out 2-1 winners. We had lost a match we deserved to win again and it was now 5 consecutive defeats.

Relegated Mansfield visited us in the next match and were by far the better side. We managed to avoid them scoring and got a few chances of our own. Ultimately, the match just stumbled to a 0-0 draw, but that was a valuable point we had gained against one of the best sides in the league.

For our next 90 minutes of going ‘How the hell aren’t we winning?’ we visited Gravesend, one of the leagues poorest sides and after our last match, we were hopeful of getting something. When we went 2-0 down within a half-hour, we were less confident. Still, we improved after that and actually managed to pull one back when Paul Evans headed in a Gustavo Herrera cross. It might seem like nothing, but if we end up staying up on goal difference, it’ll prove vital.

Just 4 more points had been gathered from our 8 September matches and it left us in the top relegation spot, a point adrift of safety. We needed to improve our finishing, and, to a lesser extent, our defence. The first thing I decided was that unless my strikers improved, I was going to sell every one of them in the transfer window and replace them with anyone else. They could hardly do worse. For now, all I could do was keep the faith or replace them with reserves. I chose to combine the two. Additionally, I also sold a fringe player from the club:

Mike Cross GK, English, 32yrs. (0 apps) £1K to Billericay (+£2K after 20 league games & 25% sell-on clause)
He never played a single game in the year or so I've been manager so I let him go. Since his sale leaves us with just 2 keepers, we will probably now have to get another goalkeeper or else watch Palmer and Gould run into eachother in training, breaking their legs in the process.

retired_Genesis777

Sitting against a wall, the man stared vacantly out at the world as he contemplated his life against the sound of the occasional coin dropping in his hat. He didn’t speak anymore: a while back (he had no perspective of time anymore and couldn’t be sure of anything more specific), he had spoken and it hadn’t gone well. Within a few minutes of him talking the listeners were all left confused as to exactly what he was talking about. Not being ones to take confusion lightly, they’d beaten the man, leaving him for dead as he lay in a gutter.

But the man had survived, waking up in a hospital a few days later. They asked him questions, but his answers only laid on more confusion. Then one day, as he’d pretended to be asleep to avoid further questioning, he'd heard them say something about “mental health”. By this point the man had recovered from his injuries and managed to flee the hospital, fearing what would happen. Since then, he’d been living on the streets of Worcester. He’d only learnt the city’s name a few nights back, after seeing it written on a sign.

He was brought out of his vacant state when he felt a sharp blow whack his knee. Looking at it, he quickly realised that a passing pedestrian had kicked it, presumably as they were forced to the side of the street. Half-expecting an apology, the man instead only heard a half-muttered insult. But he forgave the pedestrian as over the street he saw something interesting: someone he recognised from before this nightmare began, coming out of a shop on the other side of the road.

Knowing that he might be mistaken and even though he hated the man in question, he got to his feet and ran towards the other man. He ran towards the road and waited for a brief break in traffic before rushing across. One car had to slam on its breaks and gave a loud honk of the horn. But the man ignored this, rushing off after his target who’d gone down a side street.

And then he found him. He only got a brief look at him before he got in his car, but that was enough to confirm it. He’d finally found him again. Smiling to himself, he went back to where he’d started, sensing that he now had a chance to get what he desired: revenge on Mathew Brown.

retired_Genesis777

October 2006

We started out with a match against atrocious Altricham and once again dominated the match from start to finish. But our inability to hit the damn target cost us any chance of victory, though they were so atrocious defeat was impossible. 0-0 and anger was the result. In the aftermath came the news that top scorer Paul Evans (who'd scored a massive TWO goals this season) was out for up to 2 months with a sprained ankle.

Crawley, who had escaped to midtable from the expected relegation fight, visited us in our next match. It was a dull match though it had a decent number of chances. But it was the referee who was to decide this match, as he sent off Crawley’s Danny Vaughn for a second yellow with 15 minutes left. We went to all out attack, but as time wore on, it looked like we'd fail to score. Then, Rigby found Atkinson in the box. He shot, but it was right at the keeper. The rebound fell to Bouzis, who scored his first Worcester goal. Crawley didn't score in the 20 seconds after kick off, so we won 1-0. Of course, since we can only achieve through pain, Dean Marshall felt it necessary to get injured for up to 4 weeks with a twisted knee.

The FA Cup 4th qualifying round match against Gosport looked like being a confidence booster. The match turned into a complete and utter demolition of the Gosport side, with virtually every Worcester player getting numerous chances. No one scored though as we were given a lesson in how to be resilient in defence, something we really needed to master.

The replay, a handful of days later, was also predicted to be a annihilation (hopefully in goals as well as shots this time). However, Gosport started well and went ahead from a Craig Berry free kick. We adjusted our tactics and started to outplay Gosport, with the breakthrough coming from an exquisite Stylianos Bozis goal. Shortly into the second half, he set up Scott Nixon, who made it 2-1. We continued to play well, but only Gosport managed to get a decent chance in the rest of the match, which they promptly wasted. Needing two matches to beat the likes of Gosport was hardly inspiring stuff and the future looked increasingly bleak for Worcester, even though we'd finally managed to score multiple goals in a match.

Apparently, one of Worcester’s local rivals is Hereford United. I learned this when I saw an article in the newspaper in which their manager, Lee Bishop commented that he was going to crush us and get us relegated. I responded in kind, saying I’d shoot down the Hereford promotion charge with a victory after our confidence-boosting 3-game non-losing streak. Apparently, my players felt different and gave the most dire, atrocious, awful, terrible, pathetic and above all catastrophic performance I’d ever seen them give. Only Vegard Engseth Baardsson seemed to play slightly well as we were defeated 4-0, and it was no less than we deserved.

Despite our 4-0 drubbing, this still worked out as our best month this season, which is depressing in itself. 4 points for the 3rd consecutive month had seen us move up to 20th place, just clear of relegation. But the fact is that we need to improve and we need to improve fast. Hopefully, if we can salvage something from our next match (an FA Cup 1st round tie against League 1 Brighton), we can achieve something this season that isn’t “most 4-0 defeats”.

retired_Genesis777

James knew he was being followed. They weren’t exactly trying to hide the fact they were following him: that black van had been behind him for hours now as he’d driven through Leicester looking for an excuse to double-back and force them to either show their hand or stop following him. But none had come and James was going to have to stop soon anyway. He was almost out of petrol.

It was as good an excuse to force their hand as any, James reasoned and he pulled into the next petrol station he saw. Behind him, the van did likewise. Knowing what he had to do, James reached into his glove compartment and pulled something out, sticking it into his coat pocket. In the quiet, cool night air, he filled his car with petrol while, out of the corner of his eye, he checked what the van was doing. Once he’d paid for the petrol and got back to the car, the fact the van and its driver hadn’t moved removing any lingering doubts. So he walked through the cold, winter night towards the van. Then he pulled the gun out of his pocket, aimed it at the driver and said, ‘good evening.’

‘Damn, you spotted me,’ the driver replied, his voice laden with panic.

‘Yep,’ said James, disgusted by the nasty undertone of his voice, ‘now tell me: who’s getting you to follow me?’

The driver responded with a snorted laugh. ‘You’re not going to shoot me. There’s a lot of petrol around, including a few barrels in the back of the van, and that’s not something you should really be shooting. Now, James, answer this: are you really that stupid?’

‘Nope,’ replied James, smiling what he hoped would come across as an evil smile. ‘But I could just throw you in the back of your van, drive you a couple of hundred feet and then shoot you. But that seems like a lot of effort, so just answer the question.’

The van driver gulped and, knowing he had few alternatives, told James, ‘fine; I’ll tell you who’s getting me to follow you: Mathew Brown.’

‘The Worcester manager?’ James asked.

‘The very same.’

‘Hmm,’ said James. Then he punched the driver with his free hand and, after the driver didn’t get back up, returned to his car.

What James didn’t see was the driver pick up his mobile as he walked off, dial a number and wait a moment for a response. ‘The job is done, Snake.’

‘Good. Where are you now?’

The driver told Snake.

‘Interesting. Right, you’re finished. I’ll take the following of James from here.’

‘How? Have you been following me?’

‘From above. Oh, and sorry for your loss.’

‘My loss?’ the driver asked. Then, an burst of pain went through his head as the mobile phone he was holding to his ear exploded. It wasn’t a large explosion, but the proximity to his head multiplied its effect.

‘Bye,’ said Snake, to a now-dead line.