The Alfa Romeo Metaphor

League Two: AFC Wimbledon v. Dagenham & Redbridge FC

Alright, fine. I'm chicken. I'm not even under pressure and I'm feeling the pressure. It's the pressure to succeed. I realize that we're at a critical juncture. I don't think that the confidence of this team is that strong. I think it's getting better, but I keep losing key players. Get my captain back, lose the keystone to my offense.

What's a manager to do? Cope. That's what.

So here's me coping. Going with what I'm most certain will keep us in the match and hope something good and/or fortunate happens.

GK: Daniel Lincoln
D: Cameron Dummigan, Kris Thackray, Andy Frampton (C), James Fenlon
M: Mark Tomlinson (DM), George Francomb, Daniel Barlaser, Matteo Nole, Simon Johnson
F: James Loveridge

I'm giving Daniel Lincoln a match. Matteo will pair with Danny Boy in the center.

"Once again, boys, it's a simple game," I said to start my pre-game team talk. "If we play our game, we win. Get the ball on the ground and move it around quickly. We've talked all week about defending against three strikers and I have faith that we can shut them down. I have faith in you guys that we'll dominate the midfield. Let's get the ball into Loveridge on the ground. Right James?"

Loveridge nodded.

They started out pretty committed and pumped up. The ref was lecturing Loverboy for a striker's tackle inside one minute. He'd come back to help in the midfield and had scissored down an opponent.

We quickly won the ball back from and broke upfield. Dummigan played a ball to Francomb. George race down the flank until he came up on the Dagger's left back. He then flicked a pass into Danny Boy and continued his run. Danny rolled the ball into Dummigan's path who played a pass into the box which George ran onto.

George smashed a shot past the keeper to give us a dream start.

1-0

I put my hands in my pockets to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

Soon after the restart, Tomlinson got lectured for a late tackle. From the free kick, Barlaser thundered into a Daggerman. I often call him Danny Boy, but the kid is six foot tall. The ref carded him while the D&R physio helped the winded player. Dang.

The match fell into a pattern of them hoofing the ball forward, our defenders winning the headers and passing the ball around as we moved upfield before losing it.

In the 16th minute, Fenlon took a throw on the left flank in their half. He threw the ball to Tomlinson who passed up the line to Loveridge. Lovers played a ball back upfield to the left corner of the penalty box where Fens controlled the pass. He fed a pass towards the corner of the six yard box.

Danny Boy controlled the pass with his left, drew that foot back and unleashed an unstoppable tomahawk missile of a shot into the roof of the net.

2-0

Unlike earlier in the season when I wondered if we'd concede after scoring, I didn't have that worry today. D&R were only hoofing balls forward.

They created their first chance in the 25th minute when their top scorer Adrian O'Brien header over the crossbar.

At halftime, I told them I was happy with how they were playing and to keep it up.

From the kick-off, we brought the ball into their half. Danny got chopped down 25 yards out and a bit right of center.

George hammered a low shot under the wall and the keeper did well to to get down to his right. He parried it right to Matteo who calmly passed the ball into the net for his first goal in England.

3-0


View attachment 407185He ran to the corner flag to celebrate but slowed to a jog then a walk. The linesman's flag was up. ****, it'll have to wait.

2-0

This bit of good fortune rejuvinated or woke up the Daggers. They didn't change their tactics, but they tried harder and started winning headers and getting to second balls. And my players started to tire.

I replaced Danny Boy with Steven Gregory in the 53rd minute. He looked the worse for wear.

Daniel Lincoln was called upon to make two great saves within a five minute period to preserve his shutout.

By the 70th minute D&R were tiring and getting sloppy. I made some late subs to relieve my most tired players.

All in all, a good day at the office.

We remain in third as Rochdale beat Oldham and Hartlepool beat Walsall.

View attachment 407184
 
"My agency really liked the photos that John took," Gwen said.

"Yeah," I said looking up from my menu. "John mentioned his big chance yesterday so someone called you today?"

"Yes, the ****ing owner!" Gwen exclaimed.

"Wow."

"We'd presented to that VP I told you about," she continued.

"Yeah, the one you described as "an douche nozzle," I interjected.

"Yeah, him. So Mr. DN liked it and must've talked to the owner since yesterday afternoon. The boss man described our work as lyrical, whatever the **** that means in terms of photography, and vibrant and um engaged. I'm guessing they've talked to John, too. They're going to pitch me and him to some clients with proposed projects. This could be big."

"Wow, again," I said. "Who knew that a simple case of stalking would end up with a cool result like this."

"Yeah," she replied. "What do you think you're going to have?"

"Um, I was looking at the Biryani. You?"

"I love their Vindaloo."

We talked while we ate about how difficult it was to catch a break.

As the waiter was clearing our dishes, my phone jangled. I pulled it out.

"It's Paco, my former assistant manager," I said. "He never calls, will you hate me?"

She gestured with a finger across her throat and grimaced.

"Paco," I answered.

A torrant of Spanish curses singed off any ear hairs I'd missed. Maybe permanently burnt up some hair follicles.

"... ****ing ***** ********s have forced Guy to sell Dalmau," Paco Leal concluded.

"Albert Dalmau, the right back? To who?"

"****ing ***** **** *** *******s Ponferradina," Paco replied. "Airam and Aymen Souda are next. So are two of the new signings who are critical to us being in first in the league."

"I'm so sorry, Paco," I said. "We called it that night on the busride back the night I was fired."

"Yes, we make good drunken prophets," Paco agreed.

"I'm out to dinner, call you tomorrow?"

"Yes, my friend."

Click.

I told Gwen the story of the insanity of the Yellow Submarine.
 
Sunday, 26 October 2014

"Hey, where's Tomlinson?" I asked to nobody in particular. We'd just finished a 20 minute jog after stretching. We were about to break into smaller groups and begin some tactics training.

"And where's Whitney?" Assistant Manager Sean Hankin asked.

"Oh, ****," I muttered and jogged over to New Malden's buildings and into the sick room.

Mark Tomlinson was face down on the examination table and Physio Jon Whitney was digging his elbow into Mark's hamstring.

"****!" exclaimed Whitney.

"What?" I asked. He didn't need to answer. Whitney, as the team's massage therapist, was trying unsuccessfully to loosen a knot that was not willing to come untied. Been there, done that. "How long?"

"Two maybe three weeks," he replied. "Let's get some ice on that, Mark."

"Here's how a hamstring strain works," I explained to Mark once he was sitting up. "First, it's ice, acupuncture and massage. Once Whitney determines that the rip in your muscle has begun to heal, we'll add hamstring curls. Once he thinks it's strong enough, he'll put a compression sleeve on your thigh and you'll resume training."

"DO NOT under any circumstances rush it," I said. "Hamstrings tears are the worst. Trust me, I've been there."
 
Tuesday, 28 October 2014

I realized something: I need to add two more players.
View attachment 405883
First, I need more cover in defense. Too many players are getting injured. We just don't have the top-of-the-line training facilities like I was used to at Bologna or even at Cadiz. We don't have ice baths nor a whirlpool. There's only three treadmills and they're quite old. There are five stationary bikes, but only two work reliably. The weight room is adequate but not great. I'm going to have to find time to talk about improving the training facilities with Chairman Erik Samuelson.

I searched through the FAs list of unsigned players and watched vids of several before I watched a vid of Brad Smith. He'd washed out of the Liverpool Academy and was considering moving back home to Australia when I called him.

He's 20, can play with either foot and would love to come on trial with us.

Second, I needed an attacking central midfielder for my 451 formation. Daniel Barlaser fills the Advanced Playmaker role. He's popped up with a few goals, but that side of his game hasn't really developed, yet. It will, but not for a few seasons. Adam Pepper can shoot pretty well, but just never seems to do anything useful under pressure. Matteo Nole can get himself into great scoring positions, but he's great at crossing not shooting.

So I need an attacking midfielder who can dribble past defenders on occasion, do something useful when in front of goal and pass well.

Now let's be honest, MOST teams are looking for someone who can do that. And I mean most teams at all levels.

View attachment 405879I looked through the FAs database and found several close matches. But if they could shoot and pass, they were slow and couldn't dribble. Or some almost-close-enough combination like that.

So I called a few old friends in Italy. Guys I knew were either still in the game as players or as coaches.

One asked if I remembered Leandro Depetris. He was pretty sure that he'd been cut loose by some lower league team and was free. Back around 2005 or thereabouts, Brescia brought him over from Argentina. My old colleague reminded me that we'd played against him once with Bologna in the Cup. For whatever reason, injuries or whatever, the Brescia manager had given him the start.

My friend was even kind enough to look in the Federcalcio's (the Italian FA) database to pull up what he could find on him. This produced a cell phone number.

I searched for some videos of him and found one from last season with Delta Porto Tolle which had just gotten promoted from Serie D into C2A. The town of Porto Tolle is just northeast of Bologna on the coast. He was quite clearly a class above his teammates. Why the **** was he toiling in C2A? He'd had several injuries in the second half of last season and was released at the end of the season.

Well, what the ****, if he doesn't work out, it's not like I'll have spent much money on him. So I called him.

"This is Leandro."

"Hi, this is Enrico Pucci calling from London," I introduced myself in Italian. "I hear you're out of contract. I'm managing Wimbledon in London and I'm looking for an attacking central midfielder."

"Pucci?" he said. "You played for Bologna, no?"

"Yes. And I remember you when you were a teen with Brescia."

"In the Coppa, no?"

"Yeah. I recall I got carded for stomping on your foot."

"Hah, yes, no hard feelings. Those were the good old days."

"So what happened? You had the raw talent? I saw a video of you playing for Delta Porto Tolle last season. You still have it. Tell me why I should bring you to London to give you a chance?"

"I was young, stupid. Milano wanted me, there were rumors that many teams wanted me. I thought I had the world at my feet. I didn't work hard and wouldn't listen to my coaches."

"If I bring you here, I'm as cruel of a trainer as I was vicious on the pitch. I will work you to the edge. Ever been to London?"

"No, I haven't."

"Either I'll be flying to Italy to meet with you or we'll be flying you here," I said. "I'm going to make some calls and make sure you're not a coke-snorting, skirt chaser or something. Is there anything I should know before I start checking on you? Last season I loaned a player with a 18 months FIFA drug suspension hanging over his head. His club didn't bother to tell me about it. I don't want to get caught with my pants around my ankles again."

"Well, I spent far too many nights in the discos and clubs when I was younger. I'm too broke now to party hard. I'd give anything for a second chance."

"Good to know," I said. "I'm going to make a few more calls and get back to you by Friday."

"Thank you very much and it was very nice to talk to you, Enrico. I look forward to talking to you on Friday."

"Ciao."

"Ciao."

Click.
 
"Hey, Erik. You got a minute?" I asked.

"Sure, please come in," Chairman Erik Samuelson said looking up from his laptop.

"How'd we do this October," I asked.

"Similar to September," he replied. "We'll lose about 94 thousand this month. I'm still projecting that we'll clear in the vicinity of 1.3 million this season with a available balance of 2.3 million. Those preseason mini-tournaments were a brilliant idea. The combination of TV revenue and gate income provided us just over 800 thousand."

"How much did we have in match day expenses compared to gates?"

"Gate receipts are just under 50 thousand and we spent 33K for our matchday expenses," Erik replied. "Oh, and we spent 17K on ground maintenance. So, it's a wash. If you can get us into League One and I can get us into a new stadium, we could actually start making money."

"About that promotion thing," I said. "I'm going to bring in two players. A fullback and a central midfielder. I don't have enough cover in defense. Defenders seem to be dropping like flies. And I need someone to pair with Danny Boy and bring some attacking flair. When we play with a lone striker, the central midfielders get loads of scoring chances."

"Well, you certainly have room in your player wage budget," Erik remarked. I'm currently spending 22,525 per week with a budget of 25,411.

"One of them is an Argentine-Italian guy," I continued. "I'm checking into his background right now, but if I decide to go with him, how do you want me to do this? Fly to Italy to meet him or would you prefer flying him here?"

"Well, flying him here would be cheaper," Erik replied. "That's only one ticket. Will we need to help move his family?"

"He's single," I replied.

"And the other is a Brit?" Erik asked. I nodded.

View attachment 405812"There's another item I need to discuss," I said. "New Malden. I want to upgrade it. We need a better weight room, new stationary bikes, new treadmills, ice baths and a whirlpool. I think these hernias and Danny Boy's and Mark's hamstring strains are preventable."

"Well," said Erik reclining in his office chair and steepling his fingers. "I would really prefer to pile up some moneys for the potential stadium redevelopment. We're still pushing the Council to let us redevelop the dog track in Wimbledon proper. Hmmm. I'll have to talk to King's College London as it's their facility, but if we're paying, I can't imagine they'll protest. In your opinion there is no other way?"

"No," I replied. "If players can do ice baths right after training, the body flushes out the lactic acid build-up faster. It encourages quicker recovery. Hot tubs help loosen sore muscles so that Whitney's massages can do more. And Wilson could do more if he had a better weight room."

"Okay, I'll need a budget estimate for this," Erik replied. "I'll get you a phone number of a plumber who can estimate the ice baths and hot tub."

"Thanks, Erik," I said.
 
Thursday, 30 October 2014 9AM

"Hey everybody, listen up," I said as the players were all getting dressed for training. "I'd like you all to meet Brad Smith. Brad's on trial. Brad meet everyone. Andy right over there is our Captain Andy, he'll introduce you to the defenders."

"Hi," Brad said and kind of, sort of waved.

"Now listen up," I continued. "No hazing this time and I'm serious. We don't want Scotland Yard down here like last time. That's just bad press and we don't need any more of that. So no duct tape. No hair spray flame throwers. None of that ****. I'm fkn serious this time."

Brad sat down in an empty stall amongst the defenders.

"He's utterly full of ****," Captain Andy explained as I walked off. "Welcome, Brad. This is Haz, Thacks, Fens, Harry, Baldy and Cam."

"We're going to have to call you Brad," Haz explained. "We've got a Smith already."
 
FA Cup First Round: Shrewsbury Town FC v. AFC Wimbledon

View attachment 405698Today dawned clear and it's turned into a beautiful day for football. We left shortly before 8AM on a 3 hour busride to Shrewsbury. It was nearly 15 degrees Celsius (60 F) when got off the bus at Greenhous Meadow.

This is a new stadium with a nice changing room. The stadium was about half full with a decent contingent of Wombles up from southwest London.

GK: Chris Dunn
D: Cameron Dummigan, Kris Thackray, Andy Frampton, James Fenlon
M: Steven Gregory (DM), George Francomb, Daniel Barlaser, Matteo Nole, Simon Johnson
F: James Loveridge

Subs: Daniel Lincoln (GK), Reuben Hazell (D), Ben Harrison (D), Adam Pepper (M), Harry Pell (M), Fabian Rowe (M/F), Jack Redshaw (F)

We were away to a side used to playing tougher competition. League position doesn't mean **** in a Cup competition. For whatever reason, I just didn't have confidence without Michael Smith in the line-up. Nole partners Barlaser in the middle.

They looked up for it and told them to relax because we're the underdogs and just play our game.

2 minutes in and James Loveridge took our first shot. It was weak and from 25 yards and wobbled wide. He could have attacked the defenders more. They were backing off.

Shrews striker Tom Bradshaw answered two minutes later with a strong, 25 yard shot that whizzed just wide of our post.

In the 7th minute, Simon Johnson beat his defender and raced into the penalty box. His shot was blocked, but he nabbed the rebound and dribbled back into the box. He laid the ball off for Nole to shoot, but his shot was blocked, too.

In the 13th minute, Andy Frampton lost his mark, Craig William, for a split second and the absolute wrong split second -- the second when the Shrews midfielder was watching. Williams bashed a shot just wide of the near post and into the side netting.

In the 16th, Nole laid a slide-rule pass behind the Shrews left back for Simon. His shot trickled past the far post inches wide.

In the 22nd minute, Dunn punted a ball forward into the center circle. Nole lost the challenge for the high ball. The ball fell to Williams. He spun and played blind pass in the direction of Bradshaw. Bradshaw got the jump on Thackray and was in on goal. As Dunn charged out, he scooped the ball up and over Dunn.

Time slowed down as the ball floated in the air. Dunn took several steps backward and leapt. He may have gotten a fingertip to it, but it didn't matter.

1-0

Pretty goal. Pretty sad defending.

We answered by winning a corner. George curled a ball into the mixer, but a defender headed it back out. So George lobbed another ball in. A melee ensued that ended with Loveridge hammering a shot goalward. The keeper fisted the ball back out to George. He whipped in his third attempt and Frampton headed it over the crossbar.

Both teams raced back and forth across the pitch. Much activity ending in wasted opportunities. We were always rushing our passes and trying to up the tempo at the sacrifice of possession.

We only managed to make their keeper work for his wages one more time before halftime. Loveridge dribbled 40 yards before hitting a low shot he got down well to smother.

"Why are we rushing everything?" I asked in the locker room at halftime. "The ball won't burn you if you keep it, we won't get docked points if we keep possession. I realize you guys are excited because this is the FA Cup, but let's slow things down and play the possession game that makes us so successful."

"So show me ball possession and attacking their defense," I continued. "These guys don't look better than the sides we face every week. I have faith in you guys. I know what kind of game you can play. Now show me."

Shrews kicked off and their left midfielder Scott Barron curled in a delicious ball for Bradshaw at the near post. Thankfully, his flick header hit the side netting.

We kept the ball much better and worked it into dangerous positions. Unfortunately, the killer pass, the Shrewsbury mistake or the lucky bounce just didn't occur.

In the 50th minute, Williams played an early pass behind Fenlon for his teammate Jon Taylor to run onto. Fens caught him and forced him to the end line. Taylor jigged one way the juked another and he got a cross past Fens.

The ball was past Frampton before he could react, but Dunn just stood there as the ball sailed past him. Thackray had lost Bradshaw who was standing 2 yards from the goal line waiting for the ball to arrive. He didn't miss with his header.

2-0

Thacks got burned twice today. Simple concentration mistakes. Oof.

We didn't give up and dominated possession, but just couldn't put the run with the pass with the finish all together. Loverboy was starting to get the feeling that he could beat the Shrewsbury central pairing and kept running at them. Finally, his confidence was building.

In the 57th minute, Francomb won the tackle against their left back and hit a hard, low pass into Lovers. James controlled the pass and ran right at the two center backs. The way to really get defenders to panic is to run strong and hard for the gap between them. A shoulder feint froze one and he simply raced past the other.

He buried a low shot into the side netting.

2-1

Simon Johnson was tiring so I replaced him with Adam Pepper around the hour mark. Peps would partner Barlaser with Nole moving to the left flank.

In the 68th minute, Lovers beat Darren Jones, the slowest of the two center backs, and unleashed a shot for the low right corner. Their keeper dove and got a strong hand to it. Francomb got the rebound and tried to chip a ball into Lovers. Jones deflected Loverboy's header wide.

They cleared out corner attempt and Nole's shot from the second ball in was blocked.

I could tell that George was tiring, too, so I replaced him with Fabian Rowe. Let's see what he can do in 20 minutes.

In the 71st minute, Fens took a throw in deep in our half. We worked it up the left and Danny Boy played a perfect through ball for Loveridge. They were only saved by a lucky, desperation tackle by Jones.

Loveridge got to the loose ball first and hammered a shot an inch wide.

View attachment 405676We pressed and we pressed and we pressed, but just couldn't put it all together.

With time running out in the 86th minute, Barlaser chipped a ball in to Loveridge, but his flick header was right at the keeper.

Fabian Rowe finally contributed something in the dieing seconds. He whipped in a cross that Shrews exhausted defender Darren Jones mishandled. It bounced off his knee and fell to Daniel Barlaser. I took a big breathe of anticipation as Danny pulled back his right foot.

And exhaled a groan as his shot hit the side netting wide of the post.

We'd played well enough but just hadn't converted. Lord knows we'd had enough chances.
 
Sunday, 2 November 2014

"So we're in a rut," I said to my coaches as we gathered at 8AM. "Thoughts?"

"Well, Loverboy took 8 shots yesterday," Matt Woolley said. "Their keeper stopped 5. And those two misses were inches wide. Simon and Matteo took 3 each. We all know they're not the most dangerous in front of goal."

"Just to state the obvious, but we need another scoring threat other than Lovers," I said.

"But with Tomlinson out, you don't want to play a 442," Sean Hankin said. "I'm not saying I'm disagreeing, cos Gregory can't cover the ground and make the tackles, but basically only Danny Boy has contributed in the goals department. I'm sorry, Francomb has scored, too."

"Daniel and George both have 4," Wools added.

"And when I play Matteo as the other center mid, we all know he's not going to score," I said. Everyone nodded. "This is why I'm pursuing Leandro Depetris. He can shoot, dribble and pass well."

I explained to them all I knew about Leandro. I'd learned a few more details. Delta Porto Tello, the Serie C2A side let him go not because of attitude or ability, but because of his large salary and 3 injuries in the second half of the season.

"Nobody has mentioned Harry Pell," goalkeeper coach Paul Rachubka said. I shrugged.

"He hasn't impressed in training and can't even perform against semi-pro teams in friendlies," I said. "I can't see how he'll contribute."

"We could really use Michael Smith back," Hanks added.

"He's around two weeks away from being fit," Physio Jon Whitney said. "He's progressing nicely. Same for Mark Tomlinson."

"I think we should try Adam Pepper with Daniel in the middle," Wools suggested. "He's got a decent enough shot. We've all seen it. He just can't seem to put it all together."

"So who do we play out left? Matteo or Simon?" I asked.

"Matteo," everyone said nearly in unison.

"One other thing," I said. "I'd like you're input on Brad Smith. He looked decent enough on Friday. I want to decide on whether to sign him as cover tomorrow after training."

Everyone nodded.
 
Monday, 3 November 2014

"May I have a word with you?" Chairman Erik Samuelson said to me as we transitioned between training drills. He'd stopped by to watch which happened often but irregularly.

"Of course, what's up?"

"You're going to love this, I'm really excited if this all comes together, Vinnie Jones will be London around the Festive Period and I'm trying to coordinate him attending a match," he enthused.

"Wow, that is exciting," I replied.

"Very much so, I'll keep you posted on how this progresses," Erik said. "Please don't tell anyone until it looks more certain."

"Of course," I said. "You see that new guy? Yeah, in the red stocking hat. Yeah, him. That's Brad Smith, the guy on trial. I'm impressed enough. I think I'm going to sign him as defensive cover."

"Great," Erik replied. "I'll be in my office this afternoon if you want to bring him round to thrash out his terms."

"See you then," I said and jogged off to help Hanks.
 
"Ciao, this is Leandro."

"Ciao, Leandro, Enrico calling."

"Good evening, Enrico."

"You got my texts, right?" I said. "I didn't want you to worry. It took far longer than I thought to talk to everybody I needed to."

"I did, thanks."

"So let's talk business. I want to bring you to London. What are you looking for?"

"Great. Well, I guess I'd like 1,000 Euros per week plus the usual: appearance fee, goal bonus, unused sub fee. Wait, I have no idea what that would be in pounds."

"Uh, me neither," I replied. "Hold on, lemme get the convert rate on my phone."

And after a moment of surfing...

View attachment 405337"Okay," I said. "Found it. First off, I want to make your package incentive-based. I'm willing to pay you 750 pounds per week which is roughly 900 Euros. I'll give you, and this is all in pounds, 300 per appearance, 375 per goal, Team of the Year 7,500 and 5,000 if you score ten goals in a season. How's that sound?"

"How long would the contract be?"

"Until June 2016. So a year and a half roughly."

"Would you consider a salary increase for next season?"

"Sure."

"Then I'll sign," Leandro said.

"Fabulous," I replied. "Text me your email address, I'll be arranging a flight for you for Thursday. I'm not exactly sure what the fee is but we'll give you a flat sum to ship your belongings to London."

"Excellent, Enrico," he replied. "I'll see you Thursday and thank you so very much."

"I look forward to working with you. Ciao."

"Ciao."

Click.
 
League Two: AFC Wimbledon v. Cheltenham Town FC

It's a pretty cool night in southwest London. 9 Celsius (48F). I'm wearing my parka. Getting used to this cold will take some time. Cadiz really ruined me for cold weather. At least I'll be sporting my new Wimbledon scarf! Despite the cold, The Fans Stadium at Kingsmeadow is nearly sold out.

My head scout Lil Fuccillo says I need to mark Cheltenham's forwards pretty tightly. Despite Daniel Nardiello's 1 goal in 5 matches, Lil warned me not to underestimate him. Terry Gorrell is their top scorer by a long shot, so I'll have Steven Gregory shadow him. I decided that Captain Andy mark Nardiello. This leaves Thacks free.

I told Adam Pepper to get forward and attack whenever possible. So despite playing a 451, it's a pretty attack-minded 451.

GK: Chris Dunn
D: Cameron Dummigan, Andy Frampton (C), Kris Thackray, James Fenlon
M: Steven Gregory (DM), George Francomb, Daniel Barlaser, Adam Pepper, Matteo Nole
F: James Fenlon

Subs: Daniel Lincoln (GK), Reuben Hazell (D), Ben Harrison (D), Harry Pell (M), Simon Johnson (M), Jack Midson (F), Jack Redshaw (F)

We got off to yet another horrid start. WTF is with our inability to defend inside the first 5 minutes?

Dummigan chopped down their left midfielder about 40 yards out near the side line. Everyone lined up across the top of the box. Robin's right midfielder Anthony Jeffrey smashed a low missile towards the near post. Their central defender Mike Duff controlled it and smashed a shot inside the near post past Dunn.

0-1

Francomb and Dummigan looked at each other with the old I though you had him look. Fkn A!

We didn't threaten the opponents net until the 10th minute. Adam Pepper unleashed a shot from 20 yards that the keeper palmed away but right into the path of Francomb. I started to raise my arms in expectation of George side-footing the ball into the gaping net.

Instead, he controlled the ball which gave the defender time to get in front of him. George tried to kick the ball off the defender for a corner but only managed to kick the ball over the end line.

My hands were already rising so I converted what should have been a celebration into a double facepalm. I spun and looked at the crowd. They were all in a state of shock, too. The Cheltenham visiting support applauded Francomb's mistake.

"Georgey Pordgey Pudding Pie ... kicked the ball out and sat down and cried," sang the away supporters.

"C'mon guys, fkn turn it around," I muttered to myself.

In the 12th minute, Pepper passed the ball up to Lovers. This had happened several times already to no good end. Lovers controlled it, held it for a second waiting for the center back to step up then played a pass to Danny Boy. Loverboy took off goalward into the space vacated by the center back. Daniel chipped a ball into the space. Lovers controlled the pass off his chest perfectly without breaking stride, rounded the keeper and coolly slotted home.

1-1

The crowd went nuts.

"Loveridge every minute of it," The wombles sang to the tune of Loverboy'***** single from the 80s alternating with chants of "Danny Danny Danny Boy!"

The teams are pretty evenly matched. I chosen to dominate the midfield with 5 players and shut down Gornell. He didn't touch the ball until the 20th minute when he played a blind pass to where he thought Darniello might run. Well, I know you'll be shocked that Darniello made that run and caught Captain Andy asleep at the wheel.

Thankfully, Dunn made a great foot save and Fenlon cleared to safety.

Nole was first to the clearance and raced 50 yards beating 4 Cheltenham defenders before passing tamely into the midsection of their grateful keeper.

I walked over to the bench and leaned down so Hanks and Wools could hear me.

"He's got to start rounding the keeper," I said into Wools. Wools nodded.

We traded chances until the 36th minute. Dunn punted a ball well over the half line. I sighed. He could have rolled the ball to either fullback like Hanks and I had told him a hundred-million times. But, no. Duff won the header and Fracomb stood and watched their left midfielder Fenwick run onto the loose ball. Fenwick took a touch and played a ball into the channel between Dummigan and Frampton.

Nardiello raced onto it. He lasered a near post shot past Dunn.

1-2

Mistake #1: Dunn punting forward. Lovers isn't good in the air. If, and that's a big if, he won the header, who's up there to win the knock-down.

Mistake #2: George couldn't be bothered to chase after a loose ball. WTF, George?

Mistake #3: Huge channel between Dummigan and Frampton.

Mistake #4: Frampton didn't anticipate the run by Darniello. He certainly doesn't have the speed to recover.

I sighed and put my hands in my pockets. A. Lot. To. Work. On. Tomorrow. Sigh.

The players were obviously dis-heartened by the goal. Nardiello nearly scored except for he scuffed the shot wide 2 minutes later and did score another two minutes after that except the linesman flagged him offside.

We were almost literally doing everything we could to give up a goal, but the Robins failed to capitalize. Nardiello was threatening to slaughter us single-handedly.

"First off, relax guys," I said once everyone was sitting down. "We're all panicking. Just calm down."

"I want to switch how we're covering Gornell and Nardiello," In continued. "Gregs, you cover Darniello. Thacks you cover Gornell. Andy, you're free now. This should limit Darniello's chances as we'll be, in effect, double-teaming him. Clear?"

The three all nodded.

"Matteo and George both had chances," I said. "It could just as easily be 3-2. We've been unlucky. Let's relax and go out and take it too them. Okay?"

Everyone nodded.

We created a ****load of chances in the second half. Danny Boy had a chance just after the restart from 12 yards but opted to pass out to Matteo who shot high. Their keeper robbed Loverboy in the 56th and Thacks' header from the resulting corner hit the post.

Matteo crossed right into the keeper's arms 4 times. Instead of racing between the two central defenders like he often does, Lovers whiffled a shot well wide from 25 yards. The one time Matteo gets in a decent cross, Pepper's near post flick hits the side netting.

In the 73rd minute, Pepper was pole-axed. He lay writhing on the ground as I screamed at the ref for a red card. I only think the ref whistled for the foul because of the reaction from the crowd and me. Whitney raced onto the pitch to administer the magic sponge and freezy spray.

"Would you refresh my memory as to what constitutes a red card in this country?" I asked the fourth official. "You'll have to forgive me as I'm new to this country and am not sure which version of FIFA's rules applies here."

"Go sit down before I write you up," replied the fourth official.

I looked at my bench. Harry Pell is the natural center midfielder, but he hasn't looked useful all season. Simon Johnson can play center midfield. I told Simon to get up and get ready.

Whitney helped Pepper hobble to the sidelines. Simon was ready a minute later. Despite 3 stoppages and despite allowing the Robins a substitute, the ref wouldn't let me replace Pepper who remained on the bench with a ice pack on his ankle.

And it couldn't have been that he didn't know I wanted to put in a substitute. I don't need a bullhorn. I am one.

Eventually, I resorted to screaming at the fourth official from 5 yards away that I wanted a sub.

"I'm reporting you clowns," I said to the fourth official once they allowed the sub in the 79th minute. "I've got the match video. You even allowed Cheltenham to sub a player. Completely and utterly unprofessional."

We pressed and pressed to no avail once we were back up to a full contingent of players.

The fourth official held up his sign that there'd be 3 minutes of extra time.

In the 91st minute, we won a corner. Everyone ran up into the box. George lobbed a ball right into the mixer. Their keeper waded through the mosh pit and snared it.

View attachment 405318Game over.

I walked out onto the pitch as the refs assembled in the center as they usually do.

"I'm reporting you," I said waving a finger in the face of Eric Ilderton, the ref. "You wouldn't allow me to sub. You let a full 6 minutes go. You even let Cheltenham sub. I've got it all on the match vid. You should have your qualifications reviewed."

I felt arms grab me from behind and I was dragged away.

"Fkn let me go," I hollered.

"Shut it, boss," Hanks said.

"We probably just saved you from doing something stupid," Wools added.

They escorted me back into the locker room. I was only getting more and more steamed about the ref, about how we played, about our injuries because of our inadequate facilities. In other words, I'd lost all perspective.

I stood there looking at my players. I could see the looks on their faces. They could see I was absolutely livid. I've seen pictures of myself from back in my playing days. Veins standing out on my neck. Face beet red. Now that my head is clean-shaven I probably have veins standing out across my skull.

I picked up a nearby trash can and hurled it into the shower.

Then I walked out. This is probably a good time for the players to sort this one out without me, anyways.

Gus the maintenance man let me in the utility room. I checked the other scores. That calmed me down. We were still in third.

View attachment 405313
 
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WOMBLEblog.co.uk
Sound and fury that only signifies another loss

Thrash
5 November 2014 23:50

View attachment 404673I will admit that Cheltenham are a good side this season. And I realize that sometimes you just don't have luck on your side. But today's loss was a failure.

How is it that we can't defend our near post on corners? The goal we conceded in the 3rd minute was pathetic. Why won't manager Pucci put a defender at the six yard box to prevent any low corners from getting in?

So we were a goal down to start things off.

Against Brentord, York and Hartlepool we did the same thing. That's 4 out of the last 6 matches that we've conceded within 3 minutes. Unacceptable.

And how is it that we make every goalkeeper we face look like Peter Shilton? Cheltenham's Scott Brown is an adequate keeper but could we maybe possible stop shooting directly at the keeper every time we get a chance?

I must credit James Loveridge with a classy, well-taken goal. He made Brown actually work for his pay package today. We really need Michael Smith back so that Loveridge isn't our lone threat.

We have now lost 5 out of our last 8 matches. Two of those matches were cup matches which also galls me. Brentford and Shrewsbury are **** sides. We should be beating teams like these even if they are in League One.

PULL IT TOGETHER, LADS!
 
Thursday, 6 November 2014 2pm-ish

Chairman Erik Samuelson, Matteo Nole and I piled into Captain Andy Frampton's minivan and drove out to Heathrow to welcome Leandro Depetris.

"Matteo, how are your English lessons progressing?" I asked in English.

"Good, I think," he replied slowly. "I learn some. Also, Andy and Haz teach me swearing."

We all laughed.

"And how is your wife doing?" I asked in Italian.

"She is good," he answered in English. Then switched to Italian. "She's having a hard time finding the ingredients she wants for cooking. Things are so different here in the grocery stores."

"And your boy?"

"He good," he replied. "Learn English fast. Fast more than Daddy."

View attachment 404593Midday traffic seemed unusually heavy but we managed to park and make are we into the waiting area for international arrivals before Leandro came out. I got to hold the 'Depetris' sign. Chairman Erik checked his phone to see that the plane was on the ground.

"They landed a bit ago," Erik said. "He should be through customs fairly soon."

Eventually, we spotted him. It was rather hard, though, he is tiny. A mere 5'6".

"Welcome to London, Leandro," I said in Italian. I introduced him to everyone and explained our agenda. First lunch then contract signing then hotel. He'd meet his teammates in the morning and we'd have a press conference afterwards at the stadium.
 
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