retired_brittni10

After the league season had finished Bangor City made off with the Welsh Cup beating Connah's Quay 1-0 - Paul Roberts the scorer. An exact reserve of the League Cup final, where as previously mentioned Connah's Quay won by the same scoreline. Odd. Bangor were the inform cup side this season, making it to another final - that of the Premier Cup. Swansea were their opponents though and dished out a 3-0 defeat to the so-called cup experts.

And, so I move onto the end of season award. The Welsh Player of the Year award goes to someone who was actually a revelation this season, although not for us - Seventeen-year-old Carmarthen Town midfielder Owen Thomas is his name. Blessed with skill, pace and work rate I'm sure he'll go on to become a top class professional, if he gets snapped up eventually. Bangor City striker Paul Roberts comes second - twenty-four goals in fifty games this season are always going to attract plaudits. Third place went to one of our own ilk - Andrew Martin, picking up some plaudits, finally.

And so onto the Top Goalscorer award, which of course goes to the player who scores the most league goals in a single season. If I were Danny Stevens I would be mighty ****ed off right now. The reason is because despite scoring exactly the same amount of league goals at Cwmbran Town's Mattie Davies - which by the is nineteen goals - it is he and not Danny who comes away with the award. Explain that? Newtown's Andrew Whitticase comes third - eighteen goals for him.

Danny did pick up one award for himself though, that of the Welsh Young Player of the Year award. Totally deserved in my opinion twenty-six goals in forty games - not bad for a twenty-one year old. Second place goes to Total Network Solutions defender Richard Duffy, who I noted as a potential star at the start of the season. While third place goes to Connah's Quay Nomads right winger Sam Pugh - he recorded nineteen assists this season and caused teams countless amounts of damage.

Last but by no means least the Welsh Manager of the Year award. Third place went to young Deryn Brace - player/manager of Haverfordwest Town, whom he lead to fifth place this season. Second was awarded to Total Network Solutions boss Ken McKenna, obviously their third place finish and earlier Uefa Cup exploits (they beat Crvena Zvesda before bowing out to Auxerre in the second round, having had to come though the qualifying rounds). The winner, was well myself. A fitting and proud recognition for our season of triumph - I think I deserve it, at least.

As I was at the start I'm nervous and excited now at the end, although for entirely different reasons. When I was first asked to become the manager of Airbus UK I never in my mind imagined us winning the league and obtaining European qualification and even at Christmas when it became clear we were going to be motoring towards a title tilt rather than the expected struggle not to finish last I didn't allow myself the time to dream. But while this is just the end of this story it's actually the beginning of another - Airbus UK now have the footing on which to build something more solid on. We don't want to be a one season wonder after all.

<pre class="ip-ubbcode-code-pre">Airbus UK SquadNo Name Position(s) Nat Born Age Caps Gls Wages Expires Value------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Atkins, Mark DM RC ENG 14.8.68 33 - - £180 21.4.04 £16K - Barnett, Dave D C CYM 16.4.67 35 - - £200 4.5.04 £8K - Bell, Leon M RC ENG 23.9.80 21 - - £180 21.5.04 £12K - Blair, David D/M L WAL 8.1.70 32 - - £95 21.5.04 £3K - Bradshaw, Darren D/M C ENG 19.3.67 35 - - £180 21.5.04 £3K - Calliste, Ramon S C WAL 16.12.85 16 - - £85 21.5.04 £16K - Coupe, Matthew F RC WAL 7.10.78 23 - - £180 21.5.04 £28K - Dickinson, Robert AM/F LC ENG 27.11.83 18 - - £70 12.5.04 £10K - Draper, Craig M L WAL 4.12.82 19 - - £75 21.5.05 £12K - Goss, Jeremy AM C WAL 11.5.65 36 9 - £180 21.5.04 £12K - Harris, Carl M C WAL 23.7.86 15 - - £110 Rolling £6K - Hughes, David D C WAL 1.2.78 24 - - £75 21.5.04 £26K - Hughes, Mark D C WAL 3.2.62 40 - - £90 21.5.04 £3K - Laffan, Laurence AM R WAL 13.5.80 21 - - £75 21.5.04 £6K - Marriott, Andrew GK WAL 11.10.70 31 5 - £200 8.5.04 £60K - Martin, Andrew F RC WAL 28.2.80 22 - - £110 21.5.04 £50K - Mendonca, Clive S C ENG 9.9.68 33 - - £180 21.5.05 £28K - Michael, Jamie D/AM/F L WAL 25.10.78 23 - - £75 21.5.04 £12K - Morgan, Simon D/DM RC ENG 5.9.66 35 - - £180 21.5.04 £4K - Nogan, Kurt F RC WAL 9.9.70 31 - - £180 21.5.04 £16K - Owen, Val M C WAL 17.2.72 30 - - £180 21.5.04 £45K - Parry, Chris D L ENG 25.9.84 17 - - £70 12.5.04 £8K - Peischl, Michael F RLC AUT 20.10.82 19 - - £180 21.5.04 £14K - Pointon, Neil D L ENG 28.11.64 37 - - £180 21.5.05 £4K - Rimmer, Neill AM R ENG 13.11.67 34 - - £200 26.5.05 £8K - Schippers, Jan-Harm DM RL HOL 16.3.73 29 - - £180 21.5.05 £35K - Scott, Chris D RC ENG 10.7.79 22 - - £150 21.5.04 £12K - Stevens, Danny F C ENG 10.9.80 21 - - £75 21.5.04 £14K - Thomas, Rhodri D R WAL 21.10.77 24 - - £160 21.5.04 £26K - Waggett, Jamie M/F RC ENG 6.10.64 37 - - £110 1.7.06 £4K - Williams, Scott DM C WAL 7.8.74 27 - - £110 21.5.05 £9K - Worgan, Lee GK WAL 24.3.83 19 - - £90 21.5.04 £5K 2001/2 Senior Club StatsNo Name Apps Gls Con Pens Asts Yel Red MoM Av R--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Atkins, Mark 35 (2) 8 0 0 6 0 0 1 7.24 - Barnett, Dave 21 2 0 0 0 4 0 6 7.76 - Bell, Leon 23 4 0 0 9 1 0 3 7.48 - Blair, David - - - - - - - - ---- - Bradshaw, Darren 3 (2) 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 7.40 - Calliste, Ramon - - - - - - - - ---- - Coupe, Matthew 1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 6.00 - Dickinson, Robert - - - - - - - - ---- - Draper, Craig - - - - - - - - ---- - Goss, Jeremy 40 5 0 0 12 2 0 1 6.92 - Harris, Carl - - - - - - - - ---- - Hughes, David 35 (1) 2 0 0 0 4 1 1 7.31 - Hughes, Mark - - - - - - - - ---- - Laffan, Laurence - - - - - - - - ---- - Marriott, Andrew 45 0 49 0 0 0 0 0 7.24 - Martin, Andrew 42 20 0 1 (1) 11 1 0 6 7.60 - Mendonca, Clive 9 (5) 5 0 0 1 1 0 0 7.21 - Michael, Jamie - - - - - - - - ---- - Morgan, Simon 35 0 0 0 1 2 1 1 7.34 - Nogan, Kurt 2 (3) 0 0 1 (0) 0 0 0 0 6.40 - Owen, Val 38 (1) 3 0 0 4 2 0 1 7.05 - Parry, Chris - - - - - - - - ---- - Peischl, Michael 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 7.00 - Pointon, Neil 45 3 0 0 3 0 0 0 6.64 - Rimmer, Neill 26 (2) 4 0 0 9 0 0 2 7.21 - Schippers, Jan-Harm 33 (3) 4 0 4 (4) 0 2 0 0 6.25 - Scott, Chris - - - - - - - - ---- - Stevens, Danny 34 (6) 26 0 0 3 0 0 3 7.67 - Thomas, Rhodri 7 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 6.71 - Waggett, Jamie 3 (14) 5 0 1 (1) 2 1 0 1 7.00 - Williams, Scott 15 1 0 0 1 0 0 0 6.60 - Worgan, Lee 0 (2) 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 6.50 </pre>

One player was missing from there - myself. I'll continue to manage Airbus for as long as they want me and if, although I no in todays game it's more likely a case of when I eventually leave I'll no doubt try and get a job elsewhere. I can't see myself giving up the game. I finished the season with five goals from three starts (+ fourteen substitute appearances), not bad for a thirty-seven year old. As you will probably no doubt, be able to tell I don't have much outside of the beautiful game, nothing happens in my life - just football, so in years to come no doubt I'll look back on this season and the ones, I hope that are as successful, which that follow. For now though I'll just say thank you for reading and goodbye....

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Afterword - Home Comforts

Jamie Waggett kept his job for the 2002/03 season, although their was never really any doubt after such a successful first season at the club. His second season in charge started with the loss of several key players (Simon Morgan, Mark Hughes, Darren Bradshaw, Mark Atkins, Jeremy Goss and Myself ), through retirement although the signing of the then current Welsh Player of the Year Owen Thomas served as a boost to the club. The young winger costing a club record £30,000. He wasn't the only new signing but it certainly the one who was expected to do the most damage.

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The European Diary

Wednesday the 26th of June 2002 is a day that will live in my memory for a long, long time to come. It was the day that it finally sunk in that we, Airbus UK would be playing in Europe next season. The reason? Because it was the day of the draw for the First Qualifying Phase of the European Champions Cup. We waited with baited breath as the draw began, we didn't have to wait long for our first foes to be known... Vardar from the FYR of Macedonia will face... Shamrock Rovers of the Republic of Ireland. Tirana from Albania will face... Skonto Riga of Latvia. BATE Borisov of Belarus will face... Airbus UK of Wales...

So a trip to Belarus it would be, not the nicest of trips but not necessarily the most daunting. But anyway there was another draw going on. Although we still had to get through the First Round the Second phase was already being decided. This time we got a home draw in the first leg, boy would we need it - Turkish side Fenerbahçe, provided we won through.


Wednesday 10th July 2002

Fourteen days after the draw takes place you join us as we travel to the Gorodskoy, situated in Borisov (Belarus), safe in the knowledge that whatever happened this season we would go down in history as the first Airbus UK side to participate in a European competition. I had no illusions of grandeur. We weren't going to win this, nor would we even make it to the first round. And that's only if we come through this round, and then another, and then one more after that. Things are stacked against sides from a smaller nation, although nothing is ever easy in football, just as it isn't in life - but the two for many are completely separate. As it is we were always going to be the perennial underdogs. But, as they say 'Every Dog has it's Day', maybe today would be ours.

The heat was almost unbearable before kick-off, possibly more to do with stress and tension than it actually being that hot. The players don't seem to notice this though and soon I find myself almost serene as a cooled breeze flutters around the stadium, I'm in the dugout unaware of what is set to play out in front of me.

In Owen Thomas I signed a player whom I felt had real potential, at seventeen, he was probably considered too raw to move to England or Scotland but that didn't bother me, I could see his quality shine though. And so it was that after just five minutes of play, Owen Thomas did, indeed, show a little bit of quality. Andrew Martin fed the ball into him on the left hand edge of the area, taking a touch he swivelled past his marker before lashing the ball across the 'keeper Kazbek Osipenko. The stadium was sent into an unerring quiet, we were leading 0-1, do you dare to dream?

Perhaps we shouldn't have. As in Igor Chumachenko Bate possess a player rated higher than any member of our squad, their own Owen Thomas in a way, except this one is twenty-five and being tracked by a score of clubs - most notably Galatasaray and HSV. What followed in the remaining forty minutes of the half will probably remain with me until I die, a complete master class from their maestro. Nine minutes gone and he drew the sides level. Turanok moved down the left wing before floating a cross seemingly over everyone in attack, but it was a tried and tested move or so it seemed as Chumackenko arrived late to lash the ball back across the goal in van Vasten-like fashion, simply stunning - it left myself applauding and Marriott gob smacked. We had to wait for his next strike, not long though. This one was all his own doing though. He collected the ball inside his own half and set about beating three players on his way into the box. Marriott had no chance after the midfielder got the luck of the rebound, his first shot well saved. 2-1. Ten minutes later it was three, we'd sustained them so far, keeping them out up to a point but when Chumackenko was felled inside the area - David Hughes the culprit, we knew it was perhaps curtains. He promptly got up and dispatched the ball low and hard past Marriott. His hat trick and BATE's third. Only a brave, foolish or the most of optimistic men would have bet on an Airbus comeback, in this or next leg.

But comeback we did, well to a point, at least making a fight of the second half. Danny Stevens even bringing us to within a goal of our opponents with an hour gone. Doing what he does best, he got on the end of a fine Owen Thomas cross to acrobatically volley the ball home. 3-2. But, sadly the damage had been done.

With the numerical & home advantage BATE went into overdrive and just four minutes after our goal stretched the lead again. Likhtorovich nonchalantly heading the ball over Marriott, with our defence stretched to braking point. We came back - Stevens hit the post with a header and Thomas had an effort strike the bar but it wasn't any surprise when BATE scored their fifth and the games final goal. Chumachenko getting above Owen Thomas at a corner to head powerfully home. What I would do to have a player of his quality in our midfield. 5-2.

From an outsiders viewpoint it looks like we've been crushed but I was proud of my boys today. The result wasn't there but who knows what might happen in the home leg.

Airbus UK - Andrew Marriott; Siôn Meredith, Jan-Harm Schippers, David Hughes (sent off '34), Dave Barnett (c); Val Owen, Dylan McPhee (Chris Scott '34), Leon Bell, Owen Thomas (Darren Campbell '88); Andrew Martin, Danny Stevens

retired_brittni10

Wednesday 17th July 2002

We need three goals. Will we get them? Well nothing in life is that simple and as we showed previously, perhaps our defence isn't nearly as watertight as I'd have liked. Our own maestro is missing today - no Owen Thomas, the late knock he picked up in Borisov turning out to be fairly seriously, hence he's ruled out for tonight and possibly another month after that. Another new signing - Mark Shaw, makes his debut in his place. Defender David Hughes serves his match ban. Chris Scott, who made his debut out in Belarus as a substitute makes his first start, something he'll be hoping to continue.

The 'Morfa Conwy' is packed tonight - 3,974 souls crowd the small archaic stands hoping, nay praying for something that would equate a miracle. As the teams are announced the small ground falls into hush, it doesn't last long though and when the players run out suddenly a cacophony of noise erupts from every side of the ground. A win today, in these circumstances would without doubt be the greatest moment in my already fledgling managerial career, but I had to dream and I sent the team out safe in the knowledge they would do their best, it was all I could of them. I waited with baited breath for the kick off...

When the odds are so stacked against you there really is only one way to play. Attack with vigour and defend with valour, it was lost on my players I think but they set out to play in the way which suited them best - with passion and enthusiasm. A cause is only lost once you give up. Three goals without reply and we'll be going to Turkey. Now come on! I wasn't stupid though, at the back of my mind I knew it was next to impossible... But I dreamt on. The game began...

After a cagey start we had the first attack, finally deciding to break the shackles and impose ourselves on the came. Danny Stevens got blocked off on his way to goal but the ball fell nicely for Leon Bell. Taking a touch to control the ball he proceeded to strike it low and hard at goal, Osipenko was equal to it though and palmed it aside. Minutes later debuting midfielder Mark Shaw found himself in possession on the right, Shaw is one of those players blessed with anticipation and a class of passing that only a few have, seeing a willing runner he sprays the ball Beckham-like diagonally into the box. Andrew Martin is the he's aiming for and he meets it full on the volley, it's perfectly weighted but with Osipenko beaten finds the crossbar instead of the netting. The crowd rocks back and forth behind in the shed behind the goal as does the BATE defence. The ball is half cleared but not far enough - We come back at them Stevens goes past his man and looks to play it inside him as he reaches the area, he does finding Shaw. The ball isn't the best though but bobbles invitingly for the midfielder, In my head I'm willing him to strike it, it's ripe for the taking - he does, left footed the ball arrows towards the top corner. Everything goes quiet as if in reverence, Osipenko takes off, he's got fingertips to it... But it's not enough. We've got one back, two to go and seventy minutes left to play. I raise a triumphant fist as Shaw is mobbed by his team mates.

BATE spring into attack, the until now ineffective Chumachenko collects a ball on the half way line and makes his way towards goal skipping past Stevens and Meredith on his way to the edge of the area. With the goal in his sights he shoots low, for a second it looks like he's caught Marriott unaware but somehow he manages to get down to it, turning the ball around the post at the last second. My heart in my I sigh the biggest sigh of relief I can collectively manage and after the corner comes to nothing we break...

Well, Leon Bell breaks, he heads the ball clear and proceeds to chase after it, beating a BATE midfielder to the ball he sprints over the half way line as players from both teams scurry to keep up with him. Coming inside he makes a beeline for goal but finding his way blocked he chooses instead to knock the ball out wide to Shaw. The midfielder takes a touch and arrows the ball towards Martin at the back post, it's headed out but not far, but we regain possession as Bell is onto it like a flash. With all his might he drills the ball low and hard at goal. Goal!!! 2-0!! I run up the touchline, followed by the rest of the bench as Leon is mobbed my team mates and fans. Twenty five minutes are all that's gone we can do this..

BATE again come at us, don't forget just one goal and we're basically finished. We can't afford to concede but by the same token we still need to score ourselves. Fortunately for us though Shmigero curls his shot clean over the bar after good work from Skripchenko. I breath again as does the home support. Thirty-five minutes in I lose my breath. Siôn Meredith, a summer signing from Carmarthen Town, advances with the ball from his position at left back, no one challenges so he continues down the left wing at a startling speed. As he reaches the area he checks inside but it's a trick with great aplomb he pirouettes back on himself leaving Skripchenko for dead and himself motoring towards the by-line. Without looking up he chips the ball to the far edge of the six yard box, it alludes all the BATE defenders but not Andrew Martin who meets it with all the force he can muster. Osipenko doesn't move and for a split second the whole ground goes quiet, suddenly there is a huge roar reverberating around the stadium, I look again - yes, yes it's gone in... ****ing hell!!! This time I can't control myself jumping up and down the touchline 3-0, we've actually done it. But as things settle down I realise we've still got a long, long, long way to go.

The rest of the half passes without incident until on the stroke of half time BATE progress menacingly towards goal. It's Chumachenko, he jinks past one man, then another as he makes his way into the area, somehow he's danced all the way through, just Marriott to beat, he takes aim, fires, great save. Marriott got fully behind it and down well to spoon the ball away, we survive. I tell myself just forty-five minutes more, something I find becomes a repeated mantra during the break.

BATE start like a bullet out of a gun, slick, precise and fast but Marriott is making save after save or the ball doesn't sit up right. They're clearly frustrated. I'm wishing the minutes away. Sixty, Sixty-five, Seventy, Seventy-five... They all pass without incident and it goes on. Eight, Eight-five, Ninet... No, No, they couldn't not after we've held them all this time. It's that man again - Chumachenko, he collects the ball from Skripchenko and arrows his away towards goal, he's only got one thing on his mind and this time he's not going to spare us. He plays a one-two with Shmigero on the edge of the box and again finds himself one-on-one with Marriott, the move worked to precision, almost. The ball skids fast on the summer turf, both players go for it, not batting an eyelid to each others progress. Chumachenko gets their first, Bang! The two players clash, the Belarusian falls to the ground. The ball spins out of play. Penalty! Penalty! He shouts, The referee looks long and hard, his linesman is flagging. My heart sinks, the referee - a Mr Brincat puts his whistle in his lips and blows long and hard. Goal-kick! Marriott places the ball and blasts it high into the night sky, the referee blows the whistle again. It's all over - Eric Brincat I love you!

Airbus UK - Andrew Marriott; Siôn Meredith, Jan-Harm Schippers (Rhodri Thomas '63), Chris Scott, Dave Barnett (c); Val Owen, Dylan McPhee, Leon Bell, Mark Shaw; Andrew Martin, Danny Stevens

Remember the players names they'll go down in history...

retired_brittni10

Wednesday 24th July 2002

Before the game we were compounded by the loss of Neill Rimmer through retirement, he'll continue as assistant manager. Today we face Fenerbahçe at the Morfa Conwy. I would have preferred the away leg first, but it wasn't to be so the Turkish side come to us looking to destroy us. I think we'll be lucky to go through but I know that if we play well we'll at least give them a game of it.

Today also gave us another draw to attend, we found out our plausible opponents should be get through. In the Third Qualifying Phase we'll face Sporting Lisbon of Portugal. I knew the games would get more difficult but these team are amazingly out of our league.

As I stood in the dressing room willing the lads on I made it clear that we mustn't concede tonight, an away goal at this level is nearly always a killer and the prospect of us scoring or even keeping a clean sheet in the away leg was surely preposterous, although there is always a slim chance. Nothing after all is cut and dried in football. But today, yet again, we are most definitely the underdogs.

Nearly four thousand souls were packed into the 'Morfa' tonight hoping for a miracle. We knew we were getting closer to the big time - David Elleray the referee. We started the game on the back foot. Tayfun finding Tuncay with a long throw-in, his shot testing Marriott to the full but fortunately Andrew's fingertips just managed to get the ball away. Just three minutes had gone, I knew it was going to be a long night. The ball was cleared but Fenerbahçe came back, wave after wave of attack. First Marriott saved well from a van Hooijdonk header then he managed to get down low to block a bouncing shot from the edge of the area. We couldn't break out, I couldn't breathe. Bestchastnykh and Roque Júnior were the next to go close - we'd reached the twenty minute mark without conceding. A success in itself.

Now it was our turn. Schippers cleared a loose ball up to the half way line. Andrew Martin nonchalantly flicked the ball over a defenders head and sprinted away down the left wing, cutting inside his defender he drew another before slipping the ball square to strike partner Danny Stevens. He controlled the ball easily, taking on his man he advanced into the box, there it was, a small piece of space, it's a chance. He draws his right foot back, the defender closes in. He shoots hard and high. Goal! Danny Stevens has scored! We're leading in Europe.

The fans are in dream land, but it doesn't last, we're immediately on the back foot. Bestchastnykh hit a fierce shot that Marriott did fantastically well to save, not only that he held the ball. Then just after the half hour we were all square. Petkov drifted a corner towards the penalty spot and Roque Júnior got well above the diminutive Leon Bell to power a header into the top corner of the net - ****! Poor marking has cost us. It's backs against the wall time again - Fenerbahçe siege forward, van Hooijdonk volleys wide before drawing Marriott into another brilliant save. The half finishes with Martin testing Volkan at the other end though. Forty-five minutes to go and all to play for, but we need a goal.

So the second half begins, we're going for it. Danny Stevens draws his marker and fires a warning shot across Volkans goal, Martin arrives at pace but somehow he contrives to knock it into the side netting from an almost impossible angle - a pass would have been the better option but no fear for we're attacking again. Bell whips in a Corner, Dave Barnett rises, the ball is powered down into the ground, it spins agonisingly up through defenders, dammit, Volkan is again equal to it.

He catches the ball and sprays it upfield, **** a counter attack. Tuncay sprints forward looking like his lungs will burst at any moment, he's past the half way line... On the edge of the box... It's three against two... He muscles past Mark Shaw and plays a ball left to Bestchastnykh. His control is immediate, he draws his man and shunts his way past him, Bang! 1-2, we're down a goal. Marriott had no chance.

What follows is a period of nothingness, We're desperate for the ball but nothing comes off, nothing that is unless on the hour mark. Dylan McPhee steals the ball from van Hooijdonk and sprints down the left wing. He beats Tayfun with ease and makes his way to the by-line. He cuts inside and pulls the ball low back across the goal. Bell is onto it like a flash, he shapes to shoot but instead feeds the ball cleverly into the path of Stevens, it's easy - he slots the ball home 2-2! We're back in this tie.

Roque Júnior tests Marriott with a low drive, then a header. Fenerbahçe want another goal. Bestchastnykh - the game is heading towards the last ten minutes - if we can just keep it tight, maybe nick something at the other end we'll have a chance in the away leg. Come on we can do this. Chris Scott takes the ball forward, he finds Val Owen in the centre circle. Valentine has head a good game today - solid is not spectacular - he chips the ball up to Danny Stevens on the edge of the box, he gets their before his marker and heads the ball on. It's fallen exactly where he wants it Roque Júnior and Andrew Martin race towards it, but the Brazilian slips and seizing his chance Martin drills the ball low and hard... Goal! 3-2! The 'Morfa' Erupts, they've never seen anything like this - it's incredible. A team of part timers are beating a squad whose main striker is worth more than the whole team put together, his wages could float the club for a year.

Sadly, it's not to be, with seconds left on the clock van Hooijdonk is awarded a free kick, He lines it up and shoots for goal, it hits the wall and loops, loops up and arches down to the left we hesitate - Alex doesn't, he reaches it first and powers a header past Marriott. ****! 3-3. The referee blows the whistle and we'll travel to Istanbul hoping for another miracle.

Airbus UK - Andrew Marriott; Siôn Meredith, Jan-Harm Schippers, Chris Scott, Dave Barnett (c); Val Owen, Dylan McPhee, Leon Bell, Mark Shaw (Rhodri Thomas '68); Andrew Martin, Danny Stevens

retired_brittni10

Wednesday 31st July 2002

Before the away leg we welcomed a new signing to the squad - Paul Walker a left sided forward from Scottish side Morton, his cost was a bargin £7,000 not bad. He has a certain quality about him which I think will come in handy. Anyway onto the game. We needed a win, nothing else would do really - I couldn't see us getting a three-three draw in Istanbul. Lightning doesn't strike twice and eventually luck has to run out.

The Sükrü Saraçoglu is a daunting venue for any team but one thousand of our fans made the trip to Turkey. We could see them all huddled together between the massed ranks of Fenerbahçe's number all twenty-seven-thousand of them.

We started the game in a blaze of noise and blur of smoke from fireworks and canisters. It was daunting yet dazzling in one set moment as the flashbulbs went off. Unsurprisingly it was Fenerbahçe who started the stronger - the Brazilian Alex dancing through our midfield and defence to test Marriott with a low right footed drive - this time the Welsh 'keeper got down well to it and pushed it away - heart in mouth time - Tuncay followed up and smashed the ball towards the top corner - Marriott somehow recovered and tipped the ball away superbly. Some of the saves Andrew has made in this run so far have been quite superb, I've no doubt he can play at a higher level, it's just a shame about his age.

Finally our first chance came, we new it was always going to be a case of defending bravely, then taking what ever chances we could get on the break. Defender Chris Scott strode up field and over the half way line. He turned past an oncoming midfielder and put a delightful ball into the box, it screamed to be just taken - Danny Stevens did just that heading his shot at goal, the ball arched its way towards the top corner spinning slowly in the air. Cumher leapt to get fingertips to it but he missed and the ball. Oh the ball it just goes wide of the post, the wrong side. The rest of the half is spent restricting Fenerbahçe to long shots while at the other end we continue to find their defence stout and chances not forthcoming. We've survived the first forty-five minutes with our goal intact - but we still need that goal, just one without conceding.

Before I know it the buzzer is going and we're back out on the pitch. I sit on the bench knowing it's going to be possibly the longest forty-five minutes of my life. Albayrak Erhan hits the outside of the post just minutes into the half, **** that was close. At the other end Leon Bell tests Cumher with a low right footed volley. This half isn't as tense, we're finally creating chances. Something bubbles in our midfield, suddenly it's us doing the running and Fenerbahçe who are on the back foot. Mark Shaw tries to chip Cumher from forty yards out. It sails over the keepers head and dips, dips, dips the 'keeper jumps backwards. Dammit, he fingertips it over the bar, what a goal that would have been.

A goal, yes we still need one. Sixty-five minutes go, seventy, seventy-five, eighty. Mark Shaw picks the ball up in midfield and drives on, cutting inside he shoots low and hard at goal. It hits Fatih and spins madly up in the air. Chris Scott - a defender pushed into attack gets to it first and heads the ball across goal. Leon Bell reaches it first and smashes it low and hard across the six-yard box, all it needs is a touch - it passes the near post and in a clutch of bodies it hits some ones head and bang! 0-1 Airbus UK are leading. Andrew Martin runs away to the corner of the stadium our fans are standing in and does a little jig of delight, we're leading on aggregate, now all we have to do is defend. We do, Lisbon here we come!

Airbus UK - Andrew Marriott; Siôn Meredith, Jan-Harm Schippers, Chris Scott, Dave Barnett (c); Val Owen, Dylan McPhee, Leon Bell, Mark Shaw; Andrew Martin, Danny Stevens

retired_brittni10

Wednesday 7th August 2002

Sporting Lisbon at the 'Morfa' tonight, to be honest this is something I never expected to see. Let alone be managing against. I can't even believe we've made it this far - who the hell would have thought Airbus UK would beat one of Turkeys finest teams? Let alone at their own ground. It's craziness, but I love it. The bank balance is looking lovely as well, we're now well out of debt; infact almost £800,000 is in there, I can't touch very much of it though, funds are still tight on the transfer front. This new found income does however allow me to bring in new faces, although as yet none have been found that fit the bill I'm looking for.

Sporting's line up houses Brazilians, a Romanian and several Portuguese Internationals, we on the other hand are five Welshmen, four Englishmen, a Dutchman and a defender from the Cayman Islands. Comparing the two Sporting should bury us but for the first twenty-minutes an outsider would find it impossible to the distinguish the pair.

The first ten minutes were tense, but neither side made any inroads then with fifteen minutes on the clock it happened. Jan-Harm Schippers our Dutch wing back strode forward purposely before dispatching a beautiful ball down the right wing. Mark Shaw was onto it like a flash taking a touch before whipping a delightful curling cross towards the back post - Andrew Martin meeting it with a perfect bullet header. Goal! 1-0, Ricardo, their Portuguese International 'keeper is on his knees, he can't believe it.

Sporting come back Clayton and Kranjcar test Marriott, but he's equal to them. The 'keeper is in the form of his life at the moment. He catches one such chance and sprays the ball far, with just one throw. It reaches Danny Stevens on the half way line and he's off. Dribbling towards goal, past one man, two. Sporting are backing off him, he shoots but ooh, it's just wide. The match continues...

Thirty minutes on the clock. Rui Jorge picks up a loose ball in his left back spot. He strides forward, up over the half way line into our half towards the edge of the area. He side-steps Schippers, takes aim and rifles in a left footed shot. It's hard and wild it bounces beyond Marriott, he's got his fingertips to it, but argh! No! It creeps in. 1-1.

Instead of retreating though we attacked. Siôn Meredith, our rangy left back burst from his position up over the half way line, taking on all comers. No one could stop him, until he reached the edge of the box, his dipping pot-shot stunningly saved by Ricardo. The resulting corner was punched clear, but only as far as Leon Bell. The midfielder controlled the ball before flicking it into Danny Stevens. The ball falls invitingly over his shoulder and he launches it fully at goal, it's heading for the top corner - Ricardo pulls off a great save, but he can't hold it. It falls to Mark Shaw just a yard out. GOAL!! 2-1, I can't believe this and no one else can either the crowd is stunned. Minutes later, half-time.

The second half starts with a strange apprehension hanging over Sporting. They don't seem to know what's happening. 2-1 down to a team of part-timers, it's crazy. The half goes slowly but nothing happens then with four minutes to go. Paulo Bento searches the ball out wide to Rui Jorge, he wants another goal. Weaving his way into the box before he shoots high at goal. Marriott reacts immediately and pulls off an amazing save. Minutes later it's Niculae, but again it's the same outcome. The referee blows his whistle. We've won, we've won, I can't believe it, we've beaten one of the biggest teams in Europe. Mind you it's a long way to Lisbon.

Airbus UK - Andrew Marriott; Siôn Meredith, Jan-Harm Schippers, Chris Scott, Dave Barnett (c); Val Owen, Dylan McPhee, Leon Bell, Mark Shaw; Andrew Martin, Danny Stevens

retired_bbcarr

:eek: great win

retired_brittni10

Pity about the story

retired_brittni10

Wednesday 21st August 2002

We travelled to Lisbon buoyed by a brilliant 4-0 win over Port Talbot Town on the opening day of the season at the 'Morfa'. Andrew Martin and Danny Stevens both hitting the double. We knew what we had to today, a draw or a win and we'd be into the group stage of the Champions league - it'd be an amazing feat. We fail and we've got the consolation of a UEFA Cup place, but having come so far, maybe, just maybe I'm being greedy now. I don't want the UEFA Cup place - I want the Champions League spot. So do the players.

From the first minute we're on the back foot, it's just as I had expected and the Estadio José de Alvalade is awash with ticker tape and fans. Clayton, the Brazilian left winger goes close after nine minutes then Luis Filipe hits the ball high and wide after a succession of mazy runs. It continues like this for the first twenty minutes or so. We have to keep a clean sheet, keep it tight and we'll survive - it's like a mantra I repeat to my players on the sideline. 'Tight, close him down, keep it tight, come on.' We break...

Owen Thomas returned to the first team after injury picks up a pass from Leon Bell and sets off upfield. He beats Tinga with a sly step over before playing the ball into the path of Valentine Owen who is making a break up field. The pass sits up invitingly and Val strikes it sweetly. It's beaten the 'keeper...**** but not the bar..and it bounces away to safety. We were inches away from three-one, things like this just don't happen. We're on fire - Owen Thomas hits a shot just wide before Danny Stevens volley's the ball over from long range. We're actually on top and the game drifts to half time nil-nil, at the moment we're going through.

Our dressing room at half time is filled with proud players, who are just forty-five minutes away from becoming minor heroes, they've already got a legend behind them, this run has been unbelievable. I don't need to say much to pep them up they know what they have to do. I bring David Hughes on for Val Owen and shift Dave Barnett into a defensive midfield role. It seems to do the trick. We're a much tighter unit in the second half, but as suspected Sporting are soon in the ascendency.

Rui Bento starts to spray the ball around with ease, they're taking our players out of the game. We chase and chase but get nowhere near the ball. Niculae heads over and Clayton curls a shot wide. But at the other end, every so often we create a chance. Leon Bell forcing Nélson into a blocked save low at his near post and Clive Mendonca causing him to tip a shot over the bar. Bento continues to probe though. Liedson smashes a ball at goal - Schippers throws himself at it and it's cleared away. I look at the stadium clock - ten minutes to go. We might actually do this, for the first time I start to think properly about the next round. A mistake. Their Brazilian striker Silva collects a neat pass from Tinga and hurtles towards the area. He's managed to create some space and shoots. It's in... isn't it? NO! My hurt is in my mouth... then yes! Marriott has somehow managed to get across to it. Save!!. Minutes later it's over, we've silenced the stadium - all except for a small hardy bunch of souls from come from Wales.

Airbus UK - Andrew Marriott; Siôn Meredith, Jan-Harm Schippers, Chris Scott, Dave Barnett (c); Val Owen (David Hughes '46), Owen Thomas, Leon Bell, Mark Shaw (Clive Mendonca '78); Andrew Martin, Danny Stevens


Days later I travel to Geneva for the First Round draw. It isn't kind to us. Group B is where we are drawn - Académica of Portugal, Liverpool of England and Juventus of Italy. I never expected to get this far and don't expect us to get further. Coimbra, Turin and Liverpool, watch out the Airbus is coming.