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Gary Harkins was one of the more respected members of the Dundee squad. Given the captains armband in the summer by Matthew McClintock, he was trusted to lead the club on and off the pitch. The captaincy only solidified his position as one of the senior figures at the club.
Not generally a talker but it was his performances and his conduct that turned people’s heads. A couple of days after the cup win over Elgin, Matthew McClintock opted to change the training regime of the squad and it was a real change.
McClintock informed the trusted Harkins and told him to go and instruct the rest of the side. Harkins gathered the squad in the changing room at the training ground and told the players exactly what was happening.
‘Lads, lads, settle down.’
‘What’s all this about Harks? You aren’t leaving us like ****** Griffiths did, are you?’ Of course, this was Nicky Riley, shouting the odds as ever.
‘No, no, if you’ll give me a minute of your time I will tell you.’ Harkins seemed to be getting frustrated with Riley. He was the only one talking out of the group.
‘That’s a shame, I coulda taken the captaincy’, Riley laughed at his own joke. The trouble was that deep down he was serious.
‘Funny Nicky. I have been asked to let you all know from the gaffer that this morning there’s gonna be a change to training. We will be going off to the local gym where we’re going to do some boxing training. Gaffer thinks things could do with livening up and a bitof a change would do us good.’
The news was met with smiles from the team, thinking it’d be a good laugh and they set off having some banter about who the best boxer was.
The team arrived at the gym, ready for action. The man who would show them the ropes was Billy Robertson, the owner of the gym and a former boxer himself. He taught them the simple basics of jabbing and protection before taking them all to individual punch bags. The squad were enjoying themselves and the punch bags were feeling the force of some of these players fists.
However, as ever, things got out of hand. Loanee Dylan McGowan tripped over a loose bit of equipment and went down on his ankle. Matthew McClintock got the physio around and assessed McGowan who seemed in some discomfort. For some bizarre reason, Nicky Riley was buzzing around, pretending to punch people, taking credit for McGowan’s fall.
‘He only tripped cos he was running away from me, scared of this right hand, look at me, I’m a force to be reckoned with. Isn’t that right Ordish?’
‘Yeah’, Ordish replied with a raised eyebrow. Riley didn’t respond kindly.
‘You raise your eyebrows at something kid? You wanna step in the ring with me do ya? Come on then, me and you, here and now, in front of the lads.’
Most of the team simply shook their heads, laughing at Riley’s typical nonsense. Most of them wanting to knock him out themselves.
‘No thanks Nicky.’ Ordish wasn’t having any of it.
‘You’re a scared little man aren’t you?’ Riley jabbed at Ordish’s arm, pushing him, testing him.
‘Scared of what I can do to you’, he hit harder and harder before BANG.
‘Enough is enough Nicky, you keep running your mouth, whether it be Michael, myself, anyone of the lads, maybe that will shut you up.’
The squad were in shock. Mr. Laidback, the smooth, calm, cool headed captain of the side, Gary Harkins had intervened and knocked Nicky Riley out.
The squad didn’t know how to react, before Rab Douglas summed up how they were feeling and began a round of applause, which all the squad joined in with. Manager Matthew McClintock wondered what all the noise was and went over to the group.
‘What’s happened here? Why is Riley on the floor?’
‘He fell over gaffer’, Rab Douglas wasn’t going to put Harkins in it.
‘That’s a shame, was hoping someone would knock him out.’
The rest of the squad smiled as Harkins winked, seemingly gaining even more respect from his team mates for shutting up the club clown.