retired_jennie

Sitting in my office contemplating these thoughts, sipping a soothing glass of Jack Daniels, I was interrupted by the whirring of the fax machine. It was from Mick McCarthy, manager of Sunderland, and he wanted to know whether I’d be prepared to allow Adam Boyd to move to the Stadium of Light. Boyd’s my best player, (I’ll put up a squad list once the pre-season games are over and I’ve had a proper look at everyone) but given the club’s financial state I know I couldn’t refuse a decent offer.

£300,000 plus a reserve player certainly wasn’t a decent offer, in fact it was bloody insulting, and I sent the fax straight back together with a hand-scrawled message questioning Mr McCarthy’s parentage.

I’d also had another offer in from Boltonthey wanted defender Michael Nelson on a free transfer with an offer of a friendly thrown in. Nelson earns £1,400-a-week and I’d thought he was crap, but if a Premiership club were after him maybe Fat Sam Allardyce knew something I didn’t. No, for the time being Nelson was staying put.

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20th July 2005

Well, wonders never cease! At last, and after a rainforest’s worth of faxes saying “up yours” from players’ agents, I’ve signed someone on loan! The lucky fella is Arsenal’s Swiss kid Johan Djourou, his preferred position is in centre midfield but after watching him train Darren’s convinced he could do a job at the back as well.

He might have to; the offers for Michael Nelson have continued to flood in, I’ve no idea what other clubs are seeing in this kid but it sure is something I’m not. One bid, from Preston, was seriously interesting – as well as £50k hard cash, they were offering one-cap-wonder Claude Davis, of Jamaica, in part-exchange. Davis looks a decent player, certainly more of the finished article than Nelson is, and after a long chat with Darren I’ve decided that if they throw in a pre-season friendly Preston are welcome to open talks.

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21st July 2005

A lot of my time over the last week or so has been spent watching endless match tapes, especially of the recent World Cup qualifiers, and especially of the CONCACAF section. You’ve only got to look at the stars that have come out of that area, Dwight Yorke, Jason Roberts, Shaun Goater etc, to realise there’s a lot of cheap talent there, and while most of the lads that caught my eye were still out of my transfer budget there was one that I thought we had a chance with. He was Nehemias Zelaya, an 18-year old from El Salvador, he was available on a pittance, and my offer of £6,000 to his club Luis Angel Firpo was readily accepted. Zelaya agreed terms, saying that he was delighted to have the chance to play at a higher level, and I thought that, as George W. Bush might say, it was a “done deal”.

But I hadn’t reckoned on those bastards from the Home Office. Zelaya needs a work permit, and according to the fax that came through yesterday the stuffed suits in London won’t give him one. We’ve appealed, but Ken doesn’t think there’s much chance of them changing their mind. I’d been in a good mood too – we won two more friendlies, 4-0 against Northallerton and 3-0 against Milton Keynes City (Djourou scored on his debut in that one) – but that really spoiled my week. I reckon Zelaya would have been a star with us.

Never mind, such is life. I'd never been one for pondering what ifs; as the saying goes, if your auntie had balls, she’d be your uncle. I cheered up a bit later though; clutching a very large Scotch and smoking something that wasn’t tobacco, I pi**ed myself laughing as Liverpool lost 1-0 in the Champions League qualifier to European powerhouses Levadia Tallinn. Even the fact they’d won the first leg 3-0 and so walked it on aggregate couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

retired_jennie

30th July 2005

Well, the new season’s almost upon us. We’ve completed our pre-season programme with a 4-0 win over Bristol Manor Farm and a 2-0 success against Almondsbury, and in a week’s time we’ll be heading south to Robin Hood territory to take on Nottingham Forest at the City Ground.

The media, and the bookies for that matter, have been quick to write us off – my appointment hasn’t exactly inspired confidence amongst the esteemed gentlemen of the press. “Like putting McDonald’s in charge of your prize cow” was how one sarcastic bastard from The Scum put it. I’ve cut that article out and pinned it to the wall of my office, and come the end of May I fully intend to place it in a part of the said gentleman’s anatomy where it’ll take a bloody good surgeon many hours to extract.

A lot of that newfound optimism comes from the fact that, over the last week, I’ve managed to sign three players on loan – bloody good players too, I’d say. From Arsenal comes Sweden U-21 star Sebastian Larsson, he looks a cracking little player and even better we’re not paying a bean towards his wages either! From Aston Villa comes contestant number two; midfielder Lee Grant. A moody little bastard is Grant and I don’t think the powers-that-be at Villa Park were sad to see him go, but he’s better than the dross I’ve got down here in that position. And finally, from Manchester United and for a staggering “nul points” in wage terms, we have goalie Luke Steele.

At last, I’ve got a squad, and here’s the happy chappies who’ll be fighting the good fight for Hartlepool in the 2005/2006 League One campaign:

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Goalkeepers:

The main man behind the sticks will be Man Utd loanee Luke Steele, he’s only 20 but United rate him very highly and he’s already got a season’s loan at Coventry in the Championship behind him. For backup, we’ve got 25-year old Grecian Dimitros Konstantopolous. He’d played all our pre-season games before Steele came in but a career in the reserves at various clubs in his homeland perhaps hints of a less than glittering career in prospect – plus I’m bloody glad not to have to write his name on the team sheet every time. Third-choice keeper is 22-year old Jim Provett; he’s played a part in pre-season but will only come into contention in a real emergency.

Defenders:

Whatever formation I eventually choose against Forest we’ll be going with four at the back. The right side of defence is a definite weakness, with ex-Sunderland man Darren Williams the only out-and-out right-back on the books. Sadly Darren’s more Dead Donkey than Black Cat, so I’m on the look-out for a replacement pronto.

Another Black Cat is 21-year old Scotsman Neill Collins, he’d already come from Sunderland on loan before I took over and unfortunately he’s out for a couple of weeks with a back strain. Following in the finest traits of his nation, Collins is a tight as a virgin gnat’s chuff and I’m fully expecting him to carry that onto the field of play. Fighting for the right to partner Collins in the centre of our defence we’ve got two 22-year old English lads, Michael Nelson and Ben Clark; big blokes they may be, but they’re more Michael Moore than Bobby Moore and I’m bloody glad I’m only going to have to use one of them. Of course Nelson could be on his way soon anyway.

When I said the club lacked width, I wasn’t kidding, and our left-back Hugh Robertson also lacks any apparent ability as a footballer. 30-year old Hugh’s another guest from the land to the north and he’s spent most of his career flitting around a variety of crap Scottish clubs. I’ve also got utility man Sebastian Larsson, the Arsenal kid can play left-back but it’s not his preferred position and I had plans for him elsewhere.

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Midfielders.

If we’re a bit thin on the ground where defenders are concerned, the club’s practically awash with midfielders. Sadly they’re all, on the whole, not very good and so I’m damn glad I’ve managed to bring in three centre midfielders on loan; Villa’s Lee Grant and Arsenal’s Johannes Djourou (plus Larsson) are probably going to be the mainstays of our side.

Also fighting for a place in the middle is the son of a legend, not that he’d thank you for bringing it up. Gavin Strachan’s never really coped with the weight of expectation that comes with being Gordon’s son and, while he’s certainly not inherited the talent of his famous father he’s a capable player at this level and he’ll be given his chance. 30-year old Mark Tinkler is a product of the famous Leeds youth academy that produced the likes of Smith and Bowyer, Mark’s career though hasn’t reached those kind of heights and since he’s costing me a grand and a half in wages every week he’s a firm candidate for an early exit.

And, last but not least, there’s 24-year old Lee Bullock, formerly of Cardiff, and 21-year old Antony Sweeney; Sweeney’s got a lot to learn but he might get a look-in. Bullock’s meant to be a creative midfielder but since he possesses the first touch of a drunken virgin doesn’t look like he’ll be creating very much. Yes, I’m glad I’ve got those loan players!

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On the right side, we’ve got yet another ex-Sunderland reject in the shape of Michael Proctor, the 24-year old never made the grade at the Stadium of Light but has played regularly in the Championship with Rotherham and looks a tidy enough player at this level. Proctor’s going to have a fight on his hands to win a regular place, though, as he’s got a full international up against him; Thomas Butler is 24, has played twice in the green jersey of the Republic of Ireland and comes from, you’ve guessed it, Sunderland! We’ve also got ex-Torquay man Eifion Williams, he’s become a fans favourite here over the last couple of seasons but under me he’ll be second fiddle to Butler and Proctor, and former Mansfield man Darrell Clarke; he’s just crap.

The stand-out candidate for the left flank is Aussie international Joel Porter, he’s scored 5 times in four appearances for the Socceroos up to now and the 26-year old, who can also play up front, was a key man last season with 19 goals. The only other players with a left foot are former Sheffield Wednesday reserve man Ritchie Humphreys and ex-Norwich star Chris Llewellyn. Humphreys has impressed me in pre-season and has a good chance of a regular place, but Llewellyn’s struggled to find the form of late that brought him four Wales caps in his Carrow Road days. [BThomas Butler[/B] can play left midfield too, but he’s a strictly right-footed player and to me that’s always been akin to putting a square peg in a round hole.

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Strikers:

The main man up front, and the club’s undoubted star player, is 23-year old Adam Boyd. There’s already a few Premiership clubs sniffing after him and his form in pre-season’s shown why, an intelligent player with an eye for goal if we’re to threaten at the top end of the table Adam’s going to need to be on form.

Among the contenders to partner Boyd, though, the options aren’t so rosy, and the favourite so far is midfield man Llewellyn. The only other senior out-and-out striker at the club is 22-year old John Daly; sadly for me, he has the fitness levels of his famous golfing namesake and probably handles a football about as well. Teenagers David Foley, Jack Wilkinson and James Brown have all got a lot to learn; in the case of Brown, a hell of a lot.

So there you have it. It sure isn’t going to be just like watching Brazil, but in Boyd we’ve got a potential star and, with the loan players on board, I’d say we’ve got at least a chance of making a favourable impression this season.

Although, as a gambler, I don’t think I’d stake too many readies on it…

retired_jennie

“Look, we’re going to have to tell him sometime. I’m sick of all this sneaking around.”

“I can’t, not yet. I’ve only been back five minutes, it’s just too soon.”

“Why? What’s the worst he can do?”

“Remove my testicles with a blunt pen-knife. How’s that for starters?”

Yes, I was with Claire, and yes we were having that same old discussion. She wanted us to “come clean” with her old man, and I, erm, didn’t. Not yet. I’d always got along with Ken Hodcroft, would even go so far as to call him a friend, but somehow I doubted that his reaction would be one of delight when he learned that his only daughter, his little darling, was getting down and dirty with someone who, as Ken himself had put it, “probably had it away with half the tarts in the north of England”.

“But he’s bound to find out somehow, Mickey. People talk, and he’s already getting suspicious.”

That was very true. When I’d first come back, despite being a fans’ hero hardly anyone recognised me, I mean they hadn’t seen a trace of me for six years. That was starting to change, and once the season got started there’d be no hiding place. I knew if we wanted to keep seeing each other, I’d have to conquer my yellow streak somehow.

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And I did want to keep seeing her. What Ken had said was probably true, I’d shagged my way through Liverpool at a rate of knots and carried on much the same in Paphos and wherever else I’d been. No, I was hardly good boyfriend material and that bad-boy image seemed to be strangely attractive to the young ladies, but Claire was somehow different. She seemed to genuinely like me for who I am, not what I am (although as I’d pointed out, going out with the manager of Hartlepool is hardly going to lead to an invite to Beckingham Palace!)

And I liked her, I mean really liked her. Loved her? Well I’m not sure; I wasn’t even sure I knew what love was, there was precious little of it in the Milligan household as a child and consequently I’d never been much good with emotions as an adult. Sure I had friends, like Darren, who I’d climb mountains for, but I knew I’d never felt anything like this before. I even felt, for the first time in my life, jealous. Jealous that other men would be looking at her when she was out, even jealous when she was at the club even though the only time she saw the players she was wearing a daft monkey suit.

“But I’m no good for you, your Dad’ll know it, deep down even you know it. My personal life’s a disaster area, always has been, and I’ve always been bad news for the women in my life. You’re a lovely girl, Claire, and I’m scared I’ll end up hurting you.”

“I don’t want any man, Mickey, I want you, and I’m not scared. I thought you were meant to be a gambler; well here’s a gamble, why won’t you take it?”

That was true, I’d think nothing of staking more in a night than Hartlepool paid me in a year. But I only ever risked my wallet and my MasterCard, not my heart.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, Mickey, you daft bugger, is that I..I love you.”

There. She’d said it; the question was, could I bring myself to do the same.