This is episode 29, so you have an awful lot of catching up to do…
After the sale of Pa Modou Kah to Crewe for £2.5m, I speak to the board about putting some of the money towards a double-strength air freshener and some new Pirelli tyres for Chugger. Bless his rusty heart, he looks far happier – much more so than Alessandro Costacurta, for some reason. Something about Inter Milan? I don’t know, I wasn’t listening. I was busy plotting how to stop Blackpool in our upcoming league game.
They’ve had exactly the same start as us; we’re only ahead on goal difference because they’ve conceded one more than we have. Up front, they’ve got the pacey and dynamic Brett Ormerod, who’s already scored four in four. We don’t have anyone even vaguely quick enough to keep up with him, so I spend a moment considering a new sweeper system before dismissing it entirely. We haven’t come this far just to swap our tactics for Brett Ormerod. We went toe to toe with Manchester United and Liverpool, for goodness’ sake! He’ll just have to get warm and snug in the pocket of Freddie the Fence instead.
I set us up as best I can. We’ve got a bit of fatigue since the games have been coming thick and fast – Huddersfield was only two days ago – so there’s a bit of rotation. Underwood, Gough, Brandon, Gascoigne and Møller come in to keep the team fresh. We’ve got a really strong squad and a great bench, so I feel as confident as ever going into this one. I hesitate over who I should tell Mahouvé to murder, so I decide to see how the game starts and pick his victim once we’re underway.
Blackpool come out to attack and they get forward a lot in the first ten minutes, but my defence marshals them expertly. We also get down the other end and put a few efforts on target – Gazza, Javan and Bubb are best supporting actors for Peter Møller, who is twice denied by Seasiders’ keeper Lee Harrison, and then puts a couple of great efforts off target. We are definitely shading it, but I could do with a lead to stop all this sweating.
Andreas Niniadis is on the ball most often for Blackpool in centre-mid, and also has an attacking run instruction. On 20 minutes, Marcel Mahouvé gives me a look, and I give him the Julius Caesar slow thumbs down. It is literally the last time Niniadis is in the commentary for the remainder of the game, and very soon afterwards, Meysam Javan takes control. First, Byron Bubb does all the hard work, beating Craig Disley and threading a ball through for our newest Swede to smash a half-volley past Harrison for 1-0 to the mighty Diamonds. I bloody love a half-volley, I think they should count double – and even though they don’t, Javan almost instantly scores again anyway. It’s a pretty bizarre goal too. Harrison collects a thumped clearance and attempts a hoof of his own, but based on the commentary, I can only assume that he shanks it straight to Javan, who is left with a simple finish and makes no mistake.
We are on top now and looking good. Bubb hits a few sighters that go just over the bar, Brandon and Mahouvé are everywhere in midfield, and Underwood is taking all our corners and free kicks despite the fact that Gazza (Set Pieces 20) is meant to be on them; I can only assume he’s dicking around somewhere down the pitch and not paying attention. The half-time whistle approaches as Martin Bullock advances down their right and curls a cross into the near post, where Brett Ormerod has finally climbed over The Fence and nods the ball past Hugo to reduce the deficit. I’m perturbed, as we’ve been so much better than the 2-1 scoreline suggests, and Javan is straight up unwilling to accept that his lead has been slashed – and he sets about making amends. Right on the 45, Mahouvé heads down for Gazza, and he plays a delightful pass into the path of Javan who wallops past Harrison to restore our two-goal lead. A first-half hat-trick for the young Swede, and we’re firmly on top.
The second half starts brightly and it only takes seven minutes for us to extend our lead – Javan, of course, is heavily involved, and it’s his shot that Harrison can only parry, and Chris Brandon appears to tuck home our fourth. I’d love to say we look comfortable, but the truth is that Brett Ormerod torments us for the next 20 minutes. He wriggles clear and manages three efforts on goal, though none are on target due to the tremendous work of Freddie Risp – and suddenly, on 71 minutes, Ormerod is forced off injured, and that’s the end of Blackpool’s threat. Freddie conceals a shank in his sock and looks entirely innocent as we see out the game comfortably, eventually running out 4-1 winners. Against a very strong team, and missing both Kalvenes and Sir Les, this is quite a performance.
Brett Ormerod is on the shelf for two weeks – you’re welcome, everyone else. We lose David Ginola to Grenoble, I can only assume he’s a snowboarding enthusiast, so fair enough. We’re not exactly blessed with powder and slopes around rural Northamptonshire. However, we do bid a temporary farewell to Andrea Barzagli, who heads straight out on loan to Legnano in one of the most anticlimactic signings in the history of CM01/02. Hopefully a year in the motherland will allow him to get his head on straight, have his fill of cannoli, and come back to prove he’s the future Italian international centre-half we all know he can be. If I don’t manage to have a centre-back pairing of Barzagli and Chiellini, I will have failed you all.
We’re up to second in the table, and our next trip takes us to fifth-placed Chesterfield. They’re a dangerous team with some very good individuals, especially star striker Luke Beckett, though bizarrely he’s only appeared in one game this season, and in his place, manager Nicky Morgan has been playing a 15-year-old youth regen called Lee Marshall. He hasn’t scored yet and looks pretty rubbish. Hopefully he’ll line up against us as well.
We’ve got some changes to make ourselves. Freddie Risp is away on international duty, so I decide it’s time for Costacurta and Gough – combined age 76 – to anchor my back line. And for those of you worried about my central defence being about as fast as a docked oil tanker, you might be surprised to hear that Costacurta is actually my quickest centre-back, with Pace and Acceleration both 13! So nothing to worry about there. Kalvenes comes in for Underwood, my midfield remains the same, and Sir Les returns to re-man the forward guns with Javan. I’ve got a good feeling about this partnership.
My dynamic duo combines straight away, but really, it’s all about Javan. Ferdinand does some dirty work to get the ball to the feet of the young Swede, but still 25 yards out, he takes an excellent first touch and batters a thunderbastard past Roger Eskeland in the Chesterfield goal. An absolutely wonderful effort, and we’re a goal up after 19 minutes.
The rest of the first half is a back and forth affair. Chesterfield are in the commentary a lot, but my defence are generally tidying them up, led by the wonderful Mahouvé who finishes the half on a 9, breaking up play, kickstarting attacks and protecting my geriatric centre-halves with aplomb. Only Beckett, who it turns out is playing after all, manages an effort on target that Hugo defeats, and we head into the break with a narrow 1-0 advantage.
I decide not to change anything and send the lads back out for the second period, and it starts well. Duff is starting attacks from the right flank, but eventually it’s his opposite full-back who creates our big chance. First Bubb loses the ball in a tackle, but Kalvenes collects and drives into the box – he’s also tackled, but Bubb has followed him in, and he bashes the loose ball past Eskeland for 2 0! We’re up and looking good, and it only gets better from there. Moments later, Ferdinand finds Javan yet again, but Steve Tutill wipes him out! It’s not in the box, but Tutill is already on a yellow, and that’s his second – he’s off, Chesterfield are down to ten men. From this point on, dear readers, the faint of heart amongst you might want to look away.
From the resulting free-kick, Gazza hits the wall, Costacurta lays it off for Javan, I love him for rifling yet another half-volley at goal that Eskeland is equal to, but can only parry down to Marcel The Destroyer to follow in, and it’s 3-0. A minute later, Gazza dances and pirouettes down the right and slams a low cross into the box that Javan turns home for his second, and after I’ve made all my subs to keep the old timers fresh, Kalvenes swings in a free kick that Mahouvé meets for his second and our fifth.
The Rushden Ultras in the away end are chanting “stop, stop, he’s already dead” as the clock ticks into the 88th minute, but the black, ruthless heart of Meysam Javan isn’t finished just yet. He collects the ball deep, skips away from Edwards, powers past McDermott, then clatters a hellstrike past Eskeland to complete the rout. 6-0, another hat-trick for Javan, who’s been more like Ronaldo than Ronaldo in the last two games, and we are absolutely rolling in the Second Division. Rushden, win. Fatality.
Post-match I learn that’s a new record win for the Irthlingborough massive! And right on schedule, the suits from the league arrive to present me with my first Manager of the Month award of the season, and it’s richly deserved. I mostly thank Meysam Javan, who needs very little extra praise since he’s also won Player of the Month. He has totally repaid my faith with seven goals in four starts, and I’m feeling good about my side. We had a shaky pre-season where I wondered what the hell Javan and Mahouvé had been drinking, but the calming atmosphere around Nene Park combined with my fantastic man-management skills has obviously paid dividends. We’ve yet to overhaul David May-led Bristol City at the top of the league, who have five wins in five, but it’s just a matter of time. The moment they slip up, we’ll be there – and we’ll be bringing our ridiculous goal difference with us.
Mike Paul – buy him a coffee, give him some sponsorship, do what you can…
