The Alfa Romeo Metaphor

Eventually, I saw Chairman Erik Samuelson waving at me. Then I saw the television camera lights and then the guys with the TV cameras slung on their shoulders. It was interview time.

"Excuse me, pardon me," I said trying to force my way through. "Gotta go do an interview. Please move. Thanks. Excuse me ..."

Eventually I made it one hundred yards. Erik and I hugged.

A half dozen microphones and another half dozen cell phones or similar sized digital recording devices were shoved under my nose.

"How do you feel?" someone shouted.

"I'm absolutely delighted," I said. "Everyone has worked so hard to get to this stage and we've done it. Six promotions in ten seasons is truly something special."

"You came up a bit short on the day," Colin Massey from the BBC said. "Talk about your disappointment."

"Seriously, Colin?" I asked. "We hit the woodwork three times then got incredibly unlucky when Loveridge stepped on the ball and that led to the goal. AFC Wimbledon is a fan-owned club risen from the ashes of a horrible decision by the FA to let an owner move a club out of it's home and have just minutes ago been confirmed as getting promoted for the sixth time in ten seasons. Yet, all you can ask about is a fluke loss and how I feel."

"Here's how I feel," I continued. "I feel like the BBC gets no more questions. I feel like if the BBC wants me or anyone at AFC Wimbledon to ever answer any questions they'll send a journalist instead of you, Colin Massey. Would you please leave the grounds so the rest of us can enjoy the party?"

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence for anyone within hearing range. I maintained eye contact with Massey. I know that when I get in moods like this I look rather scary. Then a bunch of Wombles cheered.

"BBC OUT! BBC OUT! BBC OUT!" They chanted.

"Anyone have any real questions?" I asked.

"What are your ambitions for next season?" someone asked.

"I'm an ambitious manager," I replied. "We're going to aim high and see where it takes us. We're going to need some new signings."

"Mark Tomlinson received his seventeenth booking of the season, does that concern you?"

"No," I replied. There was a pause when I didn't say anything else.

"You lead the league in fouls, yellow cards and then there's Mark and that doesn't concern you?"

"No, football is a combative game. We're a fierce team. Mark is our defensive midfielder and I think he's great at his job."

"What do you think about how Oldham played? And Salim Karkar who was picked as Man of the Match?"

"Karkar had solid game and they got lucky while we were incredibly unlucky. I'm going to go and celebrate with the club owners if that's okay with you guys?
 
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The team celebration was winding down at one of our regular post-match restaurants. We'd toasted nearly everybody and basked in our moment. Chairman Erik had gone home earlier. I went to find the manager to settle up. He checked over several bills then ran it up. I pulled out my wallet and reached for my AFC Wimbledon card.

There was something sticking out of the front card slot. I pulled it out. It was a note:

Pay up on your 100,000 Euros debt
Click to expand...

WTF?

How the **** did this get in my wallet? It's been in my pocket the whole day. Wait. Or has it? Is it even possible? Did someone pick my pocket, insert the note then slip my wallet back in my pocket?

I stood there like an idiot staring at the note.

"Are you alright, Enrico?" the manager asked.

"I ... I ..." I stuttered. "It's a uh ... um ... nevermind."

I handed him my club card. I texted Inspector Jameson asking him to call me if he was still up. My phone jangled.

"Thanks for calling."

"I was up, what's going on?"

"You're not going to believe this," I said. "The club won promotion today. There was a pitch invasion."

"Yeah," Jameson interjected. "Saw that on Sky, but that's not why you've called."

"No. But during the chaos someone picked my pocket."

"And why didn't you report this to the constables at the match?"

"Because they put it back."

"What?"

"Our mutual friends put it back in my pocket with a note."

"Let me get this straight. They picked your pocket. Inserted a note and slipped the wallet back in your pocket?"

"Yes, sir," I replied. "And if they intended to scare the **** out of me, they succeeded."
 
Tuesday, 7 April 2015 noonish

"I'm fkn beat, exhausted, knackered as you English say," I said once we were all sitting at the table at our New Malden training facility. "This has been long fkn season."

"Twenty four teams in the league does have it's disadvantages," Goalkeeping Coach Paul Rachukba added. "It seems like just as many as Man U would play in the League, Cup and Champion's League."

"It could all be over Saturday," Coach Matt Woolley said. "Cheltenham are utter rubbish away from Whaddon Road. Their away victory yesterday was their first away victory in their last eight. Seven straight without a win. So if we can take care of business this Saturday, we win the title."

"Bristol Rovers aren't playing particularly well of late," Chief Scout Lil Fucillo added. "One win, two draws, two losses. They're in 22nd place, three points above Northampton and they should be desperate for points. But they're battling relegation for a reason."

"Their defense shouldn't be as bad as it is, but it is," he continued. "They're weakest at left back. They've given up the most goals, 43, away of anyone. On average, they concede two per match. Combine that with erratic offensive efforts and it makes sense why they are in a relegation fight."

"Jack Barlow is their danger man. He's a young lad, on loan from Hull. They play in the Barca formation everyone uses nowadays and if you shut down their wingers, they won't score."

"Thanks, Lil," I said. "Well, we know what we're up against. Let's go and get ready."
 
League Two: AFC Wimbledon v. Bristol Rovers FC

View attachment 368556Three matches left in the 2014/15 season and this is our final home match. Consequently, the guys have been talking all week about how important it is we get off to a good start. Considering we got off to fast starts in the last two but collapsed late, I just want a good result. **** the style points, just give me all three points thank you very much.

Michael Smith has looked tired all week, so he'll be coming off the bench late. Same for George Francomb and Mark Tomlinson so they're sitting on the bench. Matteo Nole and Reuben Hazell are both still injured.

I'm not sure why, but there are nearly a thousand empty seats on the day that we have a chance to win the league.

We got off to a lackluster start but Rovers are a hot mess. We're both disjointed and unable to string passes together. The pressure of winning the title must be getting to my players and, well, Rovers are third from bottom for a reason, I guess.

In the 14th minute, Steven Gregory gives the ball away. I hold my breathe as Rovers striker Daniel Chambers passes to his partner Jack Barlow. Barlow shoots wide. Everyone in the stadium exhales a sigh of relief.

In the 22nd minute, Jim Fenlon takes a throw down our left to Simon Johnson. Simon plays a ball forward to Brad Smith. Wait, what? WTF is Brad, my left back, doing in the inside left channel. He screws his shot well wide of the far post. I'd rather have Lovers in that channel. I look for Lovers, he's back in the midfield.

I do some shouting trying to encourage my players. I'm probably just wasting my breathe. This could be another 94 minutes of torment.

In the 36th minute, Rovers have a throw in deep down our right. Joe Keenan heaves in a long throw. Chris Dunn nabs rolls the ball out to Fens so we can start up our left. Fens passes inside to Gregory who zips a pass out to Simon up at midfield. Simon takes off down the left sideline and curls in a near post cross.

James Loveridge smashes a volley just over the crossbar. The whole stadium, including me, groans. Maybe realizing that this is their chance to wake up their team, the crowd roars to life. My players respond by dominating possession and camping in the Rovers half.

The fourth official holds up his board to indicate 2 minutes of extra time. We've spent the last ten minutes prodding and probing, trying to find a way to break down the Rovers defense. Let me just restate this in a slightly different way: we're not having any luck breaking down one of the worst defenses in League Two.

Leandro Depetris has been looking frustrated during this spell. At the 46 minute mark, he receives a pass across the top of the box, beats two players and shoots. Will this finally be our breakthrough? He's found a opening. Nope. He tips over after his shot sails high and pounds the turf.

"Relax guys," I say once everyone is sitting down in our locker room. "Relax. Just play our game. The result will come. Keep harassing them like we've been doing and they'll turn it over. Keep moving the ball around like we did in the last ten minutes. The goal will come. Stay calm and stay focused."

Several minutes into the second half a roar goes up from the crowd. I look around. A great volley ball spike of a beach ball? A streaker? It couldn't be related to this match. Then I pull out my phone and check the Barnet-Cheltenham score. Barnet have gone ahead 1-0 in the 47th minute.

Instead relaxing and maintaining their focus, my players revert to playing down to Rovers level. At 55 minutes, I tell Michael Smith to warm up. At 60 minutes, he goes on for Midson who has been utterly anonymous out there.

In the 65th minute, Barlow gets free and has an open channel. Thankfully, he fills his pants and shoots right into Dunn's chest from 15 yards.

I send on George for Leandro. Danny Boy moves from right midfield to central playmaker.

In the 70th minute, I tell Mark Tomlinson to get warmed up. Gregory is looking tired. 3 minutes later, Danny Boy plays a ball into the channel for Lovers. His blast goes just wide. It certainly looks like Lovers will be our ticket to paradise today.

As the Rovers' keeper fetches a ball for the goal kick, another roar goes up from the crowd. I check my phone. Cheltenham's central midfielder Russ Penn has been sent off. This is good news. Now if we could only manage to score.

In the 81st minute, Mark plays a pass out to George who takes off down the right sideline. The Rovers' left back Nicholson stays right with him. George pulls up and plays a short pass into Michael Smith. Nicholson watches the pass bobble across the shredded, torn up pitch. Smith and Francomb recognize the ball-watching and Smith zips a pass behind the Nicholson.

George crosses to the far post for Lovers. Lovers leaps unmarked and heads downwards right into the keeper's arms. But the keeper let's the header slip between his hands!

1-0

Lovers runs to the corner flag kissing his badge. He's mobbed by his teammates and everyone on the bench who've run down to the corner.

Now can we hold this lead?

I check my phone. Barnet are still winning one-nil.

We responded poorly. Thackray got caught ball-watching and Rovers' Barlow was played in alone on goal. Dunn miraculously tipped the shot around the post. At least it felt miraculous.

We cleared the resulting corner and broke upfield on the counter. But Mark Tomlinson's pass out to Simon on the left hit Danny Boy. Mark promptly fouled the Rovers player to prevent any attack by Rovers.

Everyone lined up on the top of our box. Midfielder Sebastian Lletget chipped the free kick into the space between the penalty spot and the six yard box. Barlow was first to the ball and deflected the ball past Dunn for the tieing goal.

1-1

My palm met my face. **** me. Not again. Then a roar went up from the crowd. The linesman's flag is up. We are saved.

1-0

I check my phone. Barnet are still winning.

There is more suffering to come. Thacks forgets about Barlow again in the 86th minute and Rovers send a pass into the channel. Barlow nipped the ball past Dunn and everyone watched the ball roll just wide of the post.

"SWITCH TO FOUR FIVE ONE!" I yell. "MARK, DROP BACK. LOVERIDGE, LEFT WING. SIMON, IN THE MIDDLE. C'MON, BOYS, PLAY SOME DEFENSE."

I get everyone positioned correctly while Dunn takes forever to get the ball and then get it placed for the goal kick.

I check my phone. Barnet are still winning.

The fourth official signals 3 minutes of added time. I check my phone. Barnet are still winning.

In the 91st minute, Rovers play a through ball past Fens and into our left corner. Toby Ajala races after it then slows down because he's exhausted and the pass was hit too hard. The ball rolls over the end line for a goal kick.

Dunn takes forever to restart the game. I check my phone. Barnet are still winning.

Rovers have decided that their path to joy is down our left through Ajala. In the 92nd minute, Ajala whips in a cross. Mark Tomlinson heads clear.

Rovers win the ball and play a pass into the channel for Ajala. His shot hits the post. Wouldn't have counted anyway, the linesman flag was up.

Dunn takes forever to restart from the free kick. I check my phone. Barnet are still winning.

The clock rolls past 3 minutes of extra time. I start screaming at the ref and berating the fourth official. Finally, after what seems like hours of extra time after the three minutes of extra time have past, I see the ref check his watch. I see him check it again and put his whistle to his lips and blow the sweetest three blasts a manager could ever hope to hear.

There's a brief roar but the stadium goes quickly silent. Everyone is checking their mobile phones. I check my phone. Barnet are still winning. The players all jog over to the bench to look over the coaches' shoulders. About a minute later, another roar goes up.

It's all over in Barnet! Barnet beat Cheltenham 1-0. The fans pour out of the stands for second pitch invasion in as many matches.

View attachment 368499
 
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MatthewElphinstone said:
Ah i thought it was me that was missing something lol

Also are MK Dons going down?
Click to expand...

Here's the bottom of League One. The bottom four go down. At this point it looks like we will never face them in the League.

[TABLE="class: grid, width: 50"]
[TR]
[TD][/TD]
[TD][/TD]
[TD]Played[/TD]
[TD]W[/TD]
[TD]D[/TD]
[TD]L[/TD]
[TD]GD[/TD]
[TD]Pts[/TD]
[/TR]
[TR]
[TD]19[/TD]
[TD]Carlisle[/TD]
[TD]43[/TD]
[TD]12[/TD]
[TD]14[/TD]
[TD]17[/TD]
[TD]-25[/TD]
[TD]50[/TD]
[/TR]
[TR]
[TD]20[/TD]
[TD]Crawley[/TD]
[TD]42[/TD]
[TD]13[/TD]
[TD]9[/TD]
[TD]20[/TD]
[TD]-10[/TD]
[TD]49[/TD]
[/TR]
[TR]
[TD]21[/TD]
[TD]Gillingham
[/TD]
[TD]42
[/TD]
[TD]12
[/TD]
[TD]10
[/TD]
[TD]20
[/TD]
[TD]-18
[/TD]
[TD]46
[/TD]
[/TR]
[TR]
[TD]22[/TD]
[TD]MK Dons
[/TD]
[TD]42
[/TD]
[TD]10
[/TD]
[TD]15
[/TD]
[TD]17
[/TD]
[TD]-7
[/TD]
[TD]45
[/TD]
[/TR]
[TR]
[TD]23[/TD]
[TD]Notts[/TD]
[TD]42[/TD]
[TD]9[/TD]
[TD]16[/TD]
[TD]17[/TD]
[TD]-13[/TD]
[TD]44[/TD]
[/TR]
[TR]
[TD]24[/TD]
[TD]Swindon[/TD]
[TD]42[/TD]
[TD]11[/TD]
[TD]9[/TD]
[TD]21[/TD]
[TD]-11[/TD]
[TD]43[/TD]
[/TR]
[/TABLE]

Editors note: Oops! MK Dons have 45 points not 46. Terribly sorry!
 
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The Alpha is purring in London

Something snapped. Something just gave out. Tears started streaming down my cheeks.

I must return to the Alpha Romeo metaphor for a moment if you will indulge me. It feels like I've stopped the slide.

Two years ago, the Alpha was in the shop. I didn't have the money for the repairs it currently needed and for repairs that my mechanic had already done. My former club Bologna had taken mercy on me and employed me coaching the youth players. My salary was enough to pay my rent and buy food. I owed EU 200,000 to one of the most dangerous criminal organizations on the planet. So what if they happened to be family when they loaned me the money, I was divorced from the connection that protected me from them.

Now, I have two mechanics who are fans of my current employers that keep my Alpha Romeo running marvelously. I don't drive it all that much as I often walk to the training facility which is a mile away. The stadium is about the same distance. I've now made a name for myself by winning the league when we were projected to battle relegation. I'm dating a model who has just broken through. You can see her image on an ad posted at nearly every tube stop in London.

And I no longer owe the Camorra any money. Yes, I get it that some violent London gang say I'm supposed to pay them, but I'm far more afraid of the Camorra. At least these English hoodlums don't own half the police force and have scared the other half.

So all of these realizations washed over me in the moment the ref blew his final three blasts. It was like those blasts released me from the angst, poor choices, depressions, bad luck and broken down sports cars that had plagued me for the last six years.
 
(insert casual demand for more here... lol)
story has been going strong and the quality has not dropped once! This is still the best save going! (in my opinion)
 
Tuesday, 21 April 2015 12:30pm or so

Now if you think I was lazing away my days sitting in cafes or seeing the sights of London, well, you'd be right. At least partially. When I drink my morning coffee, when I sit at New Malden prior to training, when I aat my lunch, when I spend the afternoon at a cafe, when I eat dinner, when I watch TV at night, I watch vids of players my scouts had recommended to me.

Pretty every team at any level anywhere in Europe has videos of their matches. Scouting players is so different now.

As I sat nursing an ale while watching vids after a pleasant lunch, someone sat down across from me. It was the Ali G Impersonator.

"I see your liffing the hoigh life," he said.

I didn't say anything, I just sat back and stared at him. Then I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out my mobile. I turned it on, entered the password then turned on the recording device.

"Youz haven't got nuffin to say?"

"To you? No."

"Well, youz owez us a largish number of euros."

"And you, Baldracca, probably think I'm rolling in dough still."

"We finks youz good for it. Youz doesn't wanna **** wihh us."

"Really. All I've seen is a garishly dressed, scrawny little muffler sodomizer, that's you, Baldracca, who thinks he's living the thug life. You've claimed I owe you a enormous amount of Euros. You fail to understand what the average salary is for a League Two manager. It ain't the high life."

"You watch your mouf, you muppet. Youz owez us one hundred thousand Euros."

"I would think that an independent fashion judge would look at me then look at you and reach another result. He or she would consider how you walk with a gait that suggests you either have something large up your **** or are trying to keep your track suit pants from falling down and would additionally consider all the costume jewelry you display would more likely decide that you, my dear Baldracca, are in fact the muppet."

The Ali G Impersonator was getting angry. I could see the color rising in his cheeks. I imagine that our conversation wasn't supposed to go like this. Before he could think of a reply, the manager, who was a Wimbledon supporter and a rather large one at that, strode over.

"Is he bothering you, Enrico?" he asked.

"No need to call the police and have him arrested," I replied. "Muppet boy was just leaving."

"You know who you're ****ing messing with you worthless ****?" the manager growled in the Ali G Impersonator's face. "Your ****ing messing with the beloved manager of AFC ****ing Wimbledon. He just ****ing led us to the League Two title this season and promotion. Trust me when I say there are far, far more Wombles who'd love to perpetrate a wee bit of the ultra-violence on your sorry *** and any of your friends who'd you'd wish to invite along. Do I ****ing make myself perfectly ****ing clear?"

With that the Ali G Impersonator decided that a prompt retreat was better than an opening an industrial strength can of Whup-*** all over himself.

"Terry, you're the best," I said. "I truly owe you. I have to be honest and tell you, though, that the police will be calling on you. That **** is part of a gang of some sort that is trying to extort money from me."

"That's horrible," Terry said. "Glad to help. And I mean in any way. Seriously, Guvnah. I've got a bunch of mates in and around London who served with me. You just let us know, you know what I'm saying?"

"I couldn't involve you, Terry. But I know you're sincere. Thanks again."

I'm going to erase that last part from my recording before giving it to the police.
 
Friendlly: AFC Wimbledon v. Bolton Wanderers FC

View attachment 366916I schedule friendlies for today, April 25th and May 9th because I can make money and I want to try out a new 4231 formation.

On the money front, I can make 25K each friendly which will reduce my losses for April and May. When you're a small club, every chance to make a pound sterling makes a difference in the long run.

On the playing front, a week of working on this new formation produced a good result. Bolton are champions of League One and move back up to the Championship so they're not push-overs.

Leandro Depetris is my man to play in the hole behind the striker next year. I hope to add a second attacking midfielder or forward who can in the hole.

This formation is more open and attacking and I will definitely need an upgrade in my central defender positions.

While George Francomb is a scoring winger, Matteo Nole isn't. I'll need a left winger who can score or a forward who can play left wing.
 
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Rog: Welcome to the Men in Blazers podcast.

Dav: From the **** part of Los Angeles.

Rog: We've got a lot to talk about as the English Premier League wraps up, the Champion's League Final approaches...

Dav: Don't forget about the FA Cup Final ...

Rog: And La Liga and Serie A and Deutche Fussball Bund ...

Dav: And all that.

Rog: Yeah. But here at Men in Blazers, we're always searching for that one story ...

Dav: Something that warms our hearts, Rog.

Rog: That story that shows pluck and fortitude.

Dav: And we have to dive deep into the depths of English Football to find this one.

Rog: Deep into the Sky Bet League Two of English football, Davo.

Dav: It can be a dark place.

Rog: Dark. We are going to be talking to the manager of the club known as AFC Wimbledon.

Dav: A heart-wrenching story of loss, rebirth and redemption.

Rog: A story about a club that nobody can hate.

Dav: A club owned by the fans. After the FA ...

Rog: In their infinite wisdom, Davo ...

Dav: Let the owners of Wimbledon FC move the club to Milton Keynes ...

Rog: They behaved like American sports team owners.

Dav: Except they were Norwegians, Rog.

Rog: Anyway, they move the club and the supporters of the club are ... are ...

Dav: Well, irate. Furious might be another word.

Rog: And they reformed their club, held try-outs on the Wimbledon Commons, and joined English football at the bottom, nine levels from the Premier League.

Dav: They even forced the FA to give them the Wimbledon name back.

Rog: So this all happened in the early oughts. Since then the club has climbed up division after division. Three years ago they won promotion into League Two.

Dav: They survived relegation that first season then barely kept their head's above water that second season.

Rog: So they did what any club would. They sacked their manager.

Dav: Who also happened to be a club hero, Neal Ardley.

Rog: So what did they do, Davo?

Dav: They interviewed candidates.

Rog: And who did they hire?

Dav: As you well know, Rog, they hired an Italian. No, an American. No ...

Rog: Is it a bird, is it a plane? No ...

Dav: They hired Italian-American Enrico Pucci who had plied his trade in Italy for Bologna. But he's born and raised in these US of As.

Rog: That club in the heart of Emilia-Romagna, Bologna.

Dav: Oh, I love the food there, Rog. It really is the best.

Rog: Let's not get sidetracked with that. His only managerial experience had been deep in the bowels of Spanish football with Cadiz.

Dav: I like how you said that, bowels ...

Rog: Where he was summarily sacked while in the middle of a promotion push. The Spanish El Segundo is a mad, mad place, Davo.

Dav: Here to tell us how mad it was, is the legend in training himself, Enrico Pucci.

Enrico: Hi guys.

Dav: So how mad was Espana's El Segundo?

Enrico: It was pretty crazy. Fabulous weather nearly every day. Even the rainy days were pleasant. But a Swiss consortium owned the club and would periodically demand budget cuts. During the middle of the season they eliminated the meal service at the training facility, downgraded our buses to ancient, rickety jalopies with no AC and eliminated overnight stays prior to matches.

Rog: That's horrid.

Dav: And Espana is an enormous country. And this was a Spanish club so weren't there pay problems?

Enrico: Yes, we once went several weeks without pay on one occasion.

Rog: And contrast that to Wimbledon.

Enrico: Night and freaking day. AFC Wimbledon are owned by the fans. We are on a very solid financial footing. The Chairman or I can't just go out and spend a bazillion in a desperate attempt to hit the big time. Anything that exceeds my budget, the Don's Trust would have to approve before the Supporter's Trust approves the expense.

Dav: How can you not love such a team. I ask you.

Enrico: We have a real goodwill thing going on. A Liverpool supporter organized a big on-line fundraiser just because we're, uh, I don't know ...

Rog: A heart-warming story. England needs these. Tell us about your season.

Enrico: I hired my coaching staff and rebuilt the squad. I bought only one player. The rest were free signings. We worked really hard in pre-season but only started to gel in January.

Dav: How did you find these players? It's not like you've grown up in Old Blighty and played there.

Enrico: Well, every team posts videos of their matches online. While my scouts did watch some matches live, we do a lot of it online.

Rog: The game is changing so rapidly. Talk to us about how else you've adapted to your situation.

Enrico: I saw several kids in the youth system and promoted them. We've worked out an agreement with King's College London to use and even improve one of their sports facilities.

Dav: Let's talk about some of these children. At one point wasn't your midfield engine two teenagers?

Enrico: When my adult options weren't doing what I wanted, I gave Mark Tomlinson and Daniel Barlaser chances. They ran with it. They ran us up to the top of the table.

Rog: While it's not exactly innovation, didn't you lead the league in fouls, cards and wasn't Mark the dirtiest player in the league?

Dav: Is this the rebirth of the Crazy Gang?

Enrico: I wouldn't go that far. Those guys are freaking legends. We're just up to League One.

Rog: I know everyone asks you about Mark, so let me ask you this: does he scare people? Like Vinnie Jones?

Enrico: Mark is a quiet, young man. The fabulous thing for me personally, is I see myself in him in a lot of ways. Also, he's not that tall or physically imposing. We'll work on the art of playing defensive mid next season but I have no problems with his commitment to the cause. Everyone always wants to talk about Marks fouls and our dirty play. But these people never note that we dominate possession home and away and almost always out-shoot our opponents.

Dav: Let's just list the teens in your side: one of your keepers, fullbacks, no ... wait, one of the fullbacks is twenty isn't he and the other is a teen? And your second best scorer stopped being a teen during this season?

Rog: He's nodding. What else?

Enrico: Several times during the summer, we organize a maintenance and clean-up day. Fans with carpentry and construction skills help with repairs while the rest of us weed, clear brush and stuff like that.

Dav: What about your stadium situation?

Enrico: We're committed to our community. The community owns us. We've stated we want to build a stadium that we are going to pay for ourselves. We won't ever threaten anyone and we're working with the local Council to achieve this. We think we're an asset to our community. With our Youth Academy, all the outreach we do and income for local businesses we generate we think we have a compelling case.

Rog: I'd let you. I think I speak for both of us when I say that we just love your club.

Enrico: Stop by and watch us sometime.

Dav: Can you introduce us to Vinnie?

Rog: Behave yourself, Davo. Enrico, it's been an absolute pleasure to chat with your again.

Dav: We'll definitely keep in touch. Thanks for calling us for our podcast.

Enrico: Anytime, guys, anytime.
 
League Two: Southend United v. AFC Wimbledon

View attachment 366888Today's match wraps up our campaign. This probably wraps up the careers of Captain Andy Frampton and Vice Captain Reuben Hazell. They haven't said if they'll retire, but they're getting so slow that I won't be able to play them. I've spoken to both of them about becoming coaches and I'll offer them coaching contracts once the budget for the next season is set. I have a small problem that I'm at my salary cap because I've offered James Loveridge and Brad Smith contracts for next year.

The 4231 worked out so well, I tried it out again today. My players seem to have taken to it like fish to water.

Cheltenham and Rotherham claim the other automatic promotion spots.

Wycombe v. Rochdale Burton v. York in the League Two Play-offs.

Northampton and Morecambe are relegated.

View attachment 366887
 
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