phnompenhandy

Saturday 23rd August: Stanley 3 - 0 Hereford

The following Saturday was our second home match, against Hereford. They’d got off to a dreadful start to the season, losing their opening three fixtures and not scoring a single goal. It was potentially time for a backlash but our boys ran onto the pitch full of confidence and well fired up. Houghton was fit again and he started although it was a difficult decision to drop the impressive Prendergast to the bench. Up front I switched yet again; Williams starting and Mullin on the bench. I couldn’t make my mind up over the least poor back three but I started with Smith and put Halford on his arse (You could see why I was keeping the two Caribbean guests close to me). Roberto would retain his place between the sticks with Bull waiting vulture-like for him to make a slip.

We got off to our customary lively start – you don’t want to arrive five minutes late to our games – and after a few opportunities we scored after only eleven minutes. Campbell and Bhutia had been playing nice one-twos to take out numerous opponents down the left flank before Bhutia crossed into the box. Mama got onto the end of it but the ‘keeper parried the ball to the feet of Williams. He couldn’t find space to shoot amidst the forest of legs between him and the goal line two yards away so he flicked the ball up onto the forehead of Campbell who duly completed the move he’d begun. Already Hereford looked despondent and were playing like a team defeated, none more so than Ryan Green who couldn’t handle more than half an hour of being out-classed so construed to get himself sent off. The opponent’s apathy was all the more evident when Brannan fired in a corner and the diminutive Bhutia was allowed to score with a free header. At the restart one of their psychos clattered Houghton who had to leave the pitch for the second time in his two starts. Prendergast stripped off his tracksuit to join the fray; the assault upset our lads and they set about putting Hereford to the sword. with the red mist obscuring their vision the finishing was mostly awful but straight after the second half restart Armstrong fed Campbell who slammed the ball in from near the penalty spot in a move that’s fast becoming a Stanley trademark.

With the match in the bag on the hour mark I decided to break in Nikki Bull – he’d have nothing to do but he could shout a lot and feel involved. I also brought on Durnin to give Brannan a rest and see how the two grand dads combined at DMC. In the end everyone had a good game although I don’t want to fool myself by failing to recognise when opponents make it easy to showboat. Stattoes would note that we had 18 strikes on goal to their one and that Mama stood out yet again. They’d also show that in four games we’d gone from bottom of the table to second and was the division’s top scorers with 12.

Mama’s performances are worrying me – even Baichung admitted that he’d never seen the boy so fired up; he was exceeding the expectations of my wildest fantasies. But every silver lining has a cloud and I was concerned about the implications of such awe-inspiring performances. Apart from the certainty that he’d be called up into the Indian squad (Bhutia would see to that) it wouldn’t be long before scouts from major clubs came sniffing round. Already, whilst semi-pro clubs like ours generally don’t have the resources to do much research, I’d noticed a growing swarm of scouts and even assistant managers from our Conference rivals turning up at our games as word spread. Would they work out a tactic to nullify him or assign some thug to put him out of action for months? Problems, problems – ‘Always look on the dark side of life..’.

In the subsequent week before a difficult away match at Exeter we received news from the illogical Department of Employment that we’d get a conditional work permit for Pierre but Mason’s was refused. We appealed. £2000 went to an offshore bank in the Caribbean as Pierre signed a three-year contract with a modest salary of £5000 per anum. As he got out of the taxi to report for training McDonald jumped in and departed for good. We only got £1000 for him but I congratulated myself on my decision to collect £12000 for Speare.

phnompenhandy

Saturday 30th August: Exeter 1 - 4 Stanley

Exeter were hotly tipped to make an immediate return to the Third Division and they’d made a good start to their conference campaign. Only five league games previously the gulf between us was far more than two theoretical divisions. After three easy victories this would be huge challenge, and it would show me what lessons we’d really learnt from the Halifax debacle. With such a successful run morale was high so I wanted to keep any changes to a minimum; inevitably I tinkered with the front line, bringing in James for Mullin, and of course there were changes at the back with Pierre going straight in with Pickering to his right and Howarth would come back to fill the last spot. That morning as we drove down the M6 the rain came teeming down and never let up. Mama was less than enthused and indeed I suspected that our attractive brand of dribbling and passing would be severely compromised. “Try to play our natural game” I advised, “But if the conditions require you to hoof the ball into the clouds do so – and try to keep your footing at the back!”

And indeed the conditions did make a mockery of the game. For the first twenty minutes the ball was mostly in their half and their defenders struggled to cope with a few mistimed tackles going in. Mama was lively enough although he couldn’t dribble through the duck ponds and we failed to cut out any decent chances as their defenders were able to make crucial interventions when it really counted. Then Exeter put on a period of pressure, bringing out two fine saves from Roberto before Armstrong was very harshly deemed to have brought down one of their forwards. He got a yellow card, they got a goal although Roberto got his hands to the spot kick but couldn’t keep it out. At half time I told them that they were doing their best – in the main, although with the exception of the Indians the foreign contingent weren’t enjoying themselves. Pierre lacked match fitness but I told him to carry on; Roberto had done okay but I decided to put Bully on and also change front line – why is it that the supporting man to Bhutia always has a dreadful game? James out, Mullin on.

Bull’s first contribution was a bad error, coming out to the edge of the area to collect a ball he had no change of beating the forward to – luckily the lob found the side netting. On 56 minutes the referee gave another penalty, this time for us after Mullin was tripped trying to connect with a killer pass from Bhutia. The captain of Accrington and India took the spot-kick; the ‘keeper saved it but Bhutia followed up and poked it in the empty net as the goalie lay on the deck. Two minutes later the unfortunate Gordon Armstrong mistimed a second tackle and found himself sent off. In fact with ten cards flashed the referee had a poor game – he must have been the only person not to notice the rain lashing down and legs sliding all over the park. I elected to sacrifice Houghton who was ineffectual down the left flank and have Durnin fill the defensive midfield hole. that left Campbell and Mama outnumbered but responsible for creating chances for our front two. The lads responded immediately – a free kick from Pierre dropped from the sky onto the head of Bhutia whose nod found his partner Mullin, who kept a clear head, controlled the ball and slipped it past the ‘keeper.

On 75 minutes they had a player sent off for dissent and five minutes we wrapped up the game when Mullin converted a Brannan near-post corner. Then in the 89th minute a high pass from Mama found Mullin who aimed a fast low cross towards the six-yard box. Their ‘keeper should really have got to it first but Bhutia proved poacher supreme and made it four.

Singing In The Rain
Everyone connected with the club was jubilant after the game and this time everyone wanted to praise me. To be fair, Exeter played the more competent football on the day but what stood out for me was our fighting spirit – especially the last half hour after we were reduced to ten men, a quality that had been so conspicuously lacking in our first match. With our rather more prosaic approach we carved out 16 chances with a superb 13 on target. Mama and Campbell adapted their games supremely well under the conditions but the real difference was the front two of Bhutia and Mullin who scored a brace each. Mullin only played the second 45 minutes but the pundits accorded him that elusive perfect 10 and the man-of-the-match didn’t go to Mama for once; I was more than happy to revise my earlier assessment of him. Bull’s second half performance also inclined me to put his name on the next line-up and Pierre grew stronger as the game progressed. Against quality opposition it was a brilliant result – the stress and depression of only three weeks before seemed like another lifetime. Such is football. The month ended with Mama learning he’d won the August Young Conference Player of the month, which was nice.

phnompenhandy

Tuesday 2nd September: Stanley 3 - 1 Burton Albion

With ten men tearing about in the mud the team was exhausted after that last effort, but we had to pick ourselves up for a home fixture the following Tuesday. Burton Albion had got off to an even better start than us and were tipped as dark horses to stay the distance. Like us they were proving to be prolific scorers although they were more successful at keeping the ball away from the other end. I could see that the boys were physically tired but what were they like mentally? I had some changes to make; this time Bull and Mullin would start, and in the enforced change young Steve Flitcroft would get his first exposure to the Conference while Armstrong missed out. Durnin didn’t have the legs to start but he’d come off the bench if necessary. In another alteration I replaced Houghton with Prendergast as the former was losing his edge and the latter seemed sharper mentally Finally I brought novice David Coulson in for his first start at the expense of Howarth; Albion are particularly deadly in the air and are especially lethal from corners, and Coulson is about two metres taller than Howarth – at least it seems so the way he springs of the turf.

We always start games so fired up – on eight minutes debutant Flitcroft squared the ball to Brannan who unleashed a shot from 25 yards. Their ‘keeper couldn’t hold it but that poacher Bhutia was on it like a van Nistelrooy; 1-0. Then on 26 minutes Bhutia put in a cross from by the corner flag for Mullin to use his head to convert at the near post. Were we going to end the afternoon at the Crown Ground the crown of the Conference? There was a setback just before half time when Prendergast had to go off with a knock, which gave Houghton his chance to stake a claim for his starting place. At half time we were well in control and thanks to my preparations they hadn’t had so much as a sniff at goal.

Within a couple of minutes of the restart Bhutia had collected a ball from Houghton and powered his way through two defenders before unleashing a drive across the goalkeeper and into the far corner of the net. With twenty minutes left I took off Brannan who’d been booked and was looking a bit wild; Durnin came on. He did well enough but we conceded a goal when Pierre was outsmarted by their striker. We were unruffled and played out the last twelve minutes comfortably. With Telford finally ending their unbeaten start we were indeed top of the league that evening (at the other end Hereford were still pointless and goalless, and in trouble with the authorities already for their atrocious discipline; 21 yellows and 4 reds in six games). More pleasing to me however was the fact that Bhutia felt really comfortable with Mullin as his foil and that despite the error that led to their consolation goal the back line was starting to cohere. I believed that I had a starting eleven which could maintain our position as top dogs – I was starting to dream of league football already. Of course we still had no adequate cover for virtually every position but so long as no one ever got injured, suspended or called up we’d be fine.

A Silver Cloud With A Gray Lining
On that last point, on Thursday we heard that our appeal for a work permit for Stokely Mason had been successful; ironically the board then promptly informed me that they couldn’t release the £3000 necessary to bring him unless one of our squad was purchased within the next week. I was less disappointed than I might have been had Mullin not found such devastating form, but we did need that third performing striker. And then it happened – in training that afternoon Baichung tore his groin and the physios promptly and gravely informed me that he’d be out for a good two months – the same length of time it would take Prendergast’s torn calf muscle to heal. I did tell you about silver linings. I don’t know if it was panic, but I told Darren Beckworth to get straight on the ‘phone to every agent and club he could think of to offer to flog almost any of our reserve squad – we needed those miniscule funds for Mason urgently. If it was a move that bore the seeds of desperation it was a move that bore no fruit.

There were two tiny crumbs of comfort to be had; firstly there was a barren week looming due to England taking on mighty Liechtenstein and other European championship qualifiers which gave us time to reorganise matters on the training ground, and secondly our next three fixtures were against strugglers, hopefully giving us a chance to put our new sans-Bhutia tactics time to bed in without dropping too many points. Assuming I’d be working without any addition to the current squad I felt I had to rely on the striking partnership that largely got us the UniBond championship but which I deemed inadequate this season – Paul Mullin and Lutel James. Could Mullin play without Bhutia? Could James play?

Wag

Just spent some time reading this, it's really good.

A Promising start. It's easier to read now you've broken it up a bit

cm_india

Hey Andy, buddy, this is your good friend from Calcutta

Awesome stuff, keep it up !!

phnompenhandy

Hey Abhishek,

I recognised you in from an earlier posting. You following the fortunes of Bhaichung and Shylo? Prolly more pleasant than following the national team :o

I don't think Mohammedan are going to make it - how's it looking your end?

phnompenhandy

Saturday 13th September: Scarborough 4 - 2 Stanley

We’d arrived at the seaside by noon and in a pig-in-the-middle knock-about on the sands Ged took a tumble and hurt his shoulder; young Steve Flitcroft found himself drafted in to the starting line-up. Otherwise it was Mullin and James up front, a settled line-up behind and Armstrong taking responsibility for leadership on the pitch.

I suppose my sombre mood in training sessions over the previous days had rubbed off on the team and they played with little conviction. The first half was the dullest I’d ever seen – we bumbled about at the back and lacked any sense of penetration up front. Even Mama was failing to put in any runs or crosses and our only salvation was that our opponents were no better. The first shot of any description in the entire match came in the 44th minute from a direct free kick twenty yards out. They scored. The second chance in the game came a minute later with Pierre having gone AWOL. Two minutes into stoppage time Pickering conceded a crass penalty but the taker shot straight at Bull. We were fortunate to go in at half time 2 – 0 down. It was clear that we weren’t just missing Bhutia’s footballing qualities, but his charisma and leadership too. The entire performance was so inept that it was impossible to know where to begin to address the problems, but I singled out the senior members - the stand-in captain for the lack of commitment and replaced him with John Durnin who’d been reading the game with me on the touchline, and Pickering who I replaced with the versatile Howarth. “We didn’t create a bloody half-chance the entire half” I bemoaned, “Look, forget about our shape, forget caution – just go out there are get some shots on goal. If we go down 8 –0 so be it but don’t do a Hereford and lie down and die.”

Winston Churchill or Henry V couldn’t have put it better – right from the kick-off Mama put in his first surging run down the right, got to the by-line and send in a wicked cross which was met by Mullin who slammed the ball high into the net. Now we were playing with zest but by following my instructions they left themselves thin at the back and ten minutes later we found ourselves two goals behind again. Pierre had pushed up too far and left his man space to get behind and finish a decent move. Two minutes later after Mama had dummied two opponents and put a ball into the box the long clearance found all our boys bar the goalie so far up the pitch that Quayle could stroll into the penalty area and cut the ball across Bull into the far corner for his hat-trick. Five minutes from time James, who’d spent the previous 85 minutes trying to avoid the ball found it at his feet in the penalty area with no one near him after a through ball from Cook, who’d come on for an exhausted Flitcroft. He poked it at the ‘keeper but the goalie pushed it straight back to him whereupon he stabbed it in the net. A ‘consolation’ goal? I was not consoled.

Other than the ten minutes after the break our performance was even worse than at Halifax. Of those that I kept on the pitch for the 90 minutes only Mama, Mullin and a busy ‘keeper showed any verve; of the rest Campbell was inexplicably inept and Pierre suggested he hadn’t signed a contract with us to play football. I didn’t feel the same sense of blackness as I had after our previous defeat but I was equally lost as to how we could rectify the situation. We needed one of those positive thinking gurus to sort their heads out but we had no cash. I left it to Darren.

phnompenhandy

Saturday 20th September: Stanley 2 - 1 Farnborough

Despite our debacle the previous week I declined the temptation to make wholesale changes, largely because we had no resources to call upon and I was hopeful Beckworth would have done some psychological magic with them. I did switch Howarth and Pierre to see if the new recruit would cope better to the right of central defence, and I gave the captain’s armband to John Durnin with Armstrong replacing him in the dugout. If we stuffed up this time I was going into hibernation until Bhutia was back.

The quality of football was woeful on both sides but I was hopeful we would get a result until Coulson dithered and allowed a forward to break free and lob Bull from twenty yards in the 19th minute. Six minutes later the kid partly made amends by finding Brannan with a pass on the left of the penalty area and his drive from a narrow angle was precise, beating the ‘keeper at the far post. After a further ten minutes Houghton was clumsily tripped in the box. Without our regular penalty-taker the stand-in captain took responsibility and made no mistake. We were in the lead, undeserved though it was. Our forwards had shown nothing and I lost patience with James at half time, replacing him with Williams despite Mullin carrying a knock. The second half was dull beyond belief but by full time we’d had three shots and taken three points. I felt bad for the four thousand fans who’d paid to watch this fare but the boys by and large felt better about themselves. The defence hadn’t disgraced itself, Durnin had done a captain’s job and Mama had somehow by default acquired another man-of-the-dreadful-match award. Despite that it was clear to all that without his mentor on the pitch he just wasn’t the same player. The biggest concern however was that the front pairing was a disaster. I’d have to get tinkering again. Flukily, the permutation of other results left us back on top of the table; I wasn’t cheered.

Wheeling and Dealing
On Sunday I received two interesting calls on my mobile as I drove down to London to watch a reserve game at QPR. One was from the chairman of Droylsden offering a grand for Peter Cavanagh. He’s worth more but I needed the dosh and he wasn’t in my first team plans, so I accepted. I wondered if Mason would still be interested after we messed him around. Then I got a call from the agent of Richie Partridge telling me Liverpool were happy for him to come to us on loan. “Great, but does Richie want to come?” I enquired, recalling that I’d made such an approach in the pre-season only to get a condescending brush-off. The reply was somewhat evasive so I put it out of my mind.

The following Tuesday was a busy day – in the morning I was contacted by a coach at Rangers I’d chatted to informing me that my request to bring in a young central defender named Marien Ifura had been welcomed. Then I concluded the deal to take Cavanagh to Droylsden although he wouldn’t leave until the transfer window opened on January 1st. This was followed by a call from the manager of Enfield; I’d learnt at the weekend that Courtney Naylor, a hardworking striker I vaguely knew had fallen out with the gaffer and I’d put in a bid for £1000 – it had been accepted and Naylor was on his way to discuss terms. No sooner had I concluded that discussion than there was a knock on my office door – it was an exciting young Jamaican international striker by the name of Omar Daley along with his agent. He was on loan down the road at Preston and was attracting rave reviews for his consistently excellent performances. Preston couldn’t offer him a permanent contract so he’d responded to my enquiry. He would definitely be the ideal signing for that second striker berth but it was immediately obvious that his wage demand would not be met by our board. Nevertheless he would watch the match that evening along with Naylor and we’d talk after. Hopeful signs, but my immediate concern was to prepare for that Tamworth tie.

phnompenhandy

Tuesday 23rd September: Stanley 0 - 0 Tamworth

A second game at the Crown Ground in three days against modest opposition, but the lads were feeling physical fatigued to compound their psychological lack of confidence. Nevertheless I elected to keep mostly the same line-up as Saturday with the exception of James; Williams would start and Durnin who just didn’t have the legs - Flitcroft at nearly half his age would come in. Then I had the problem of who to give the armband; without Bhutia, Armstrong and Durnin on the pitch there were no viable candidates so I brought in Jonathan Smith for Coulson at the heart of defence and gave him the task.

The first half was dull dull horlicks. Bull came for a cross in Tamworth’s one and only attack and Houghton slashed wildly from long range in our single attempt. Other than that Williams took a knock; he was so anonymous I didn’t even notice until he bleated in the dressing room. Our physio gave him a rub down while I told James to warm up – we’d give Gazza ten minutes to see if he could run it off. We finally carved out a decent chance on 52 minutes when Mama put in his first good ball to Williams who tested their goalie. After that we began to warm up and Houghton had another chance from long range with the same result, closely followed by Mullin bringing a good save from the ‘keeper. Williams had run off his knock but was still ineffectual so I brought on James, and replaced the tired Campbell with Langley who had seen very little action since his close season signing. In the end we took a point from a match that we dominated without ever looking slightly threatening. Tamworth’s assistant manager had been presented with the man-of-the-match accolade for marshalling his troops from midfield in a way that both Armstrong and Durnin had failed to do. It was quite simply a very poor quality game of non-league football. I was left with the sense that the lads were treading water awaiting the return of the king, but at this rate by that time our season would be all but over. Would any new signings bring a sense of purpose?


Ins and Outs
Darren didn’t put much faith in Naylor so I agreed his modest terms but delayed the deal for a week on the off chance that Daley might lower his demands. On Wednesday I read in the press that as I’d suspected Partridge had his sights set higher and was off to Rotherham on loan, then I got a call from Dagenham & Redbridge – they were interested in taking Andy Proctor for my asking price of £2000. Burton and Shrewsbury also came in with bids which didn’t actually involve any immediate transfer of cash – I politely invited them to think again. On Thursday Ifura agreed to join us on loan so I asked him to come straight up and report to training on Friday with a view to putting him the match-day squad for Saturday. He made a good impression on the lads at the training ground, being a young but confident boy; I’d start him as a substitute and hope to throw him into the fray at some point at Telford. On Friday Burton and Shrewsbury informed me that they weren’t following up their interest in Proctor, but the Daggers confirmed their bid and we sealed the deal; this one was cash straight into my transfer kitty – I could only hope Andy didn’t return to haunt us when we entertained Dagenham three weeks hence. Daley unsurprisingly insisted on holding out for higher wages. I rashly offered him an annual salary of £40 grand with loads of frills, knowing that the board would not sanction more than £35K basic.

phnompenhandy

Saturday 27th September: Telford 5 - 4 Stanley
Telford like us had been early season table toppers but were similarly losing their way and were currently two points behind us. However their home form was strong and I felt a point would be a reasonable ambition for this trip. I didn’t change the woeful permutation up front, knowing that I’d have more options by the next game but I made a couple of changes in midfield – I gave Langley a more extensive run out as he was getting down at his lack of opportunities and Campbell wasn’t shining anymore, and I dropped Flitcroft as he was struggling with his fitness, defying his seemingly strong constitution and Armstrong returned, also getting a second chance to captain the side after agreeing with me that the Tamworth chief had been a model worth emulating.

We don’t start matches sharply anymore but after soaking up an opening period of moderate pressure we scored against the run of play with our first attack on 15 minutes. Howarth had punted the ball long from deep inside our half and the Telford goalie came charging miles out of his area to head it. Mullin got there at the same time and as the ball broke it rolled into the penalty box; Mullin kept his feet to chase it and tap it into the goal. All gifts gratefully received. They hit back from the restart, bring out a superb double save from Nikki Bull. Five minutes later however he disgraced himself by allowing a soft shot from 35 yards to squirm under his body and across the line – the Christmas spirit was evident in Shropshire that afternoon. The rest of the first half was one-way traffic - an unrelenting barrage on our goal with us surviving numerous goalmouth scrambles and Bull multiply atoning for his earlier error. At half time I took the plunge and put Ifura on for Howarth, and instructed the lads to get the ball down the channels. Earlier in the season we’d been striking terror into oppositions with our killer wing-play but since Houghton’s injury his crossing has been woeful and since Bhutia’s injury Mama’s crossing has been non-existent along with his ability to take men on and get past them, but I urged the both of them to believe in themselves and go for it.

The change of tactic made for a thrilling second half. In the first minute of the restart the ball was fed to Houghton who sped down the left wing, took a shot form just inside the area and scored. They got one back four minutes later and in a further three minutes had taken the lead – my new-look defence was proving a shambles. The entire 45 minutes was end-to-end stuff; on 70 minutes Williams had an excellent shot saved and the follow up was scrambled clear – then they went up the other end, won a corner and scored a goal from a near-post header after Brannan had abandoned his position. The move of the match came on 78 minutes when mama burst through two defenders simultaneously trying to bring him down, played a one-two with Langley, a one-two with Williams and set Williams up to complete the job: just like Real Madrid. We were only one goal behind and on fire up front so I sent on Campbell to add extra firepower and threw everyone forward. We promptly paid the price when a neat lob over Bull made it 5 – 3 but it wasn’t over; in the 89th minute another lovely Williams-Mama combination left Mama to finish with a well-placed drive and into stoppage time their ‘keeper saved a diving header from Williams at point blank range. We were denied an equaliser by the referee who blew up after Houghton was free and bearing down on the ’keeper; he’d beaten off a foul but the referee wanted to flash a card. A shame but to be fair we were outplayed over the 90 minutes, but at least we entertained at long last.

So, in the end a nine-goal thriller – not what anyone would have predicted, especially at half time. Our defence was atrocious – it wasn’t Ifura at fault so much as the rest of them with poor marking and positioning – Brannan being particularly culpable. But in the second half my tactic to get the ball to Houghton and Mama proved inspired as both played like they haven’t since the golden days. Mama was accorded the man-of-the-match despite being on the losing side for his second half performance, and Williams looked sharp and combined very nicely with Mama. So, some solutions to old problems and some new problems.


A Caribbean Coup
On Tuesday I was thrilled to learn that Daley had agreed terms with us; the board was okay with the salary since he would be replacing Bhutia next season on half his pay. We had to wait two weeks for a work permit but he got one for Preston and with six caps has played in Jamaica’s recent fixtures, so that should be a formality. I decided that at one grand apiece I could bring in Daley and Naylor for the two grand I got for Proctor. Naylor arrived on Friday and I figured he could make a substitute appearance in the next game. In my mind Lutel James’ days were numbered; he had been a firm favourite with the fans due to his exploits the previous season but his form this campaign had been so woeful I was confident no tears would be shed.

One step forward, three steps back: on Thursday morning Ged Brannan tore his groin in training – at least that’s when it happened according to his account. I’m not so sure – I’ve told my players not to put in too many heavy extra training sessions in the bedroom but boys will be boys. So that was our two biggest assets without a decent groin between them, and two months to get some results with a mediocre squad whilst our bank balance got redder and redder. Jeez, sometimes I hate this game. You know, if the creators of that popular waste of time our boys all play between training sessions knew anything about the real life job they’d have called their game ‘Crisis Manager’.