The Footballer Manages

The Footballer Manages

The Footballer Manages

By J.C. Padgett

Published by J.C. Padgett at Smashwords

Copyright 2017 J.C. Padgett

Hampton’s football public would be as shocked as the rest of the football world when the papers were printed. Re-signing for his former club, Johnny Bradford had neglected the advances of two prominent first division sides, and chosen to continue his successful career in the second division. His manager was over the moon and basked in the limelight the coo had given him. Sitting relaxed as the press conference was coming to an end he failed to see three policemen with a grinning Sir Giles Morgans at the door. They waited for the reporters to leave before confronting the new signing.

‘Mister Bradford,’ the sergeant said as he approached, can we have a word?’

Johnny had not forgotten the last few hours but had cast them from his mind. Putting his name on the contract Reggie Tegdap had produced was all he had wanted to do. Now completed, his mind snapped back to the incidents. He stood up from behind the table he was sitting at and addressed the policeman.

‘By all means, here or shall we make it more formal?’

‘I think more formal, don’t you? The sergeant stated as he placed his hand on the footballer’s arm.

Cooper and Tegdap looked on in horror as their new player was ushered away. ‘What’s going on here,’ Cooper demanded to one of the other watching policemen.

‘Nothing for you to worry about at this stage, we just need him to answer a few questions.’

‘What about,’ Cooper asked a little irate. ‘He’s only just signed. What’s it all about?’

Morgans moved in front of Cooper, ‘leave it to them Peter.’

Tegdap came closer to the two. ‘Well Giles what’s it all about,’ he inquired watching Bradford ushered away.

Sir Giles tried to not look smug. ‘It seems there was an incident on the way to the ground.’

‘What sort of incident,’ Tegdap queried.

‘I don’t know all the details of course but it appears a man was injured and a car destroyed. Bradford was involved by the sound of it,’ Morgans informed them. He watched the two men look distraught before going on. ‘If he’s found guilty of any impropriety you do realise that contract will be null and void.’

Cooper couldn’t even bring himself to answer.

In the interview room Bradford looked around. The stark white wash walls were yellowing badly. Paint peeling off from three of the four corners and the rising damp gave it a musky air. Just as he was staring at the ceiling the door opened. Two plain clothed officers moved to where he was sitting. One sat down immediately the other flopped a folder on the table and stood silently.

‘I’m detective sergeant Ronson and this is detective Pullman,’ the sitting man said. ‘We need to establish a few facts about the incident on Filton Road. As I understand it there was a stabbing.’

Johnny reacted at the word stabbing. ‘It wasn’t me I didn’t stab anyone,’ he pleaded.

‘Calm down Mister Bradford, no one said you did.’ Ronson waited for the footballer to relax.’ Do you mind if we call you Johnny?’ Bradford shook his head. ‘Right then Johnny, this altercation you had, in your words how did it go.’

Bradford was about to start when Pullman placed a packet of Woodbines in the centre of the table and sat down. He flipped open the folder he had tossed down and checked its contents.

Johnny watched him fidgeting with the four loose sheets as he started recalling the incident. A few minutes later he trailed off. ‘That’s when I ran off.’

Pullman asked the first question. ‘These two assailants what did they do then?’

‘I have no idea, I just kept running.’

‘A wise move,’ Ronson stated. ‘Would you recognise them again if you saw them?’

‘Only the man I punched in the face, the other came from behind. I doubt I would recognise him again.’

‘Pity,’ Ronson said. ‘We’ll get you to look at a few mug shots later but was there anything you can tell us about him that may help in our enquiries.’

‘I’m not sure,’ Bradford answered before an image came into his mind. ‘When I punched him in the jaw there was a glint of what looked like gold.’

Ronson gave a sideways glance. Pullman pursed his lips, ‘could it have been a tooth?’ he asked before making a note.

‘It’s possible, maybe one of the front ones,’ Bradford surmised tapping his own.

‘Now that is interesting. Very helpful, very helpful indeed,’ Ronson confessed.

‘Am I in trouble then,’ Johnny probed. ‘I had to hit him; it was self-defence, he lunged at me with a knife as I said.’

Ronson was sympathetic. ‘Perfectly understandable, I would have done the same in your position.’ He held out the packet of cigarettes with the contents showing. Johnny declined. ‘Wise, very wise they’ll be the death of me yet,’ he said before lighting up. ‘Now there is one more thing. Your car or your Father’s car as it happens. If the assailant only stabbed the tyre why did the car have so much damage?’

Johnny was matter of fact. ‘That was because of the car that tried to run me off the road.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ Pullman questioned in astonishment.

‘A car tried to run me off the road,’ the footballer answered.

‘When was this,’ Ronson probed.

Johnny relayed his story of his drive from the Lakes to Hampton and then stopped at the altercation with the thugs.

‘That’s another car my Father-in-law has had damaged,’ Bradford admitted. ‘This time it was in my possession so I guess I’ll have to pay for it. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him?’

Pullman drummed his fingers softly on the folder. ‘I’m afraid he already knows; we’ve already called him.’ Bradford rolled his eyes. ‘You’ll be able to explain the circumstances yourself.’

Ronson was not one of the detectives investigating the Blaydon brothers or the aftermath of their crash but he had read the file. ‘At least it would appear driveable.’

‘So, you know about the last one he had,’ Johnny asked.

‘Yes, I do, read the file only a few weeks ago actually,’ Ronson admitted. ‘But this incident you talked about is very worrying. Are you sure you didn’t recognise the driver?’

Bradford shook his head. ‘As I said he had a helmet on. Fell off the car as I took off. The farmer may have seen him if he took the helmet off but the visor was dark, I couldn’t see any of his face.’ Johnny slipped his hand into his left trouser pocket, his change jingled to his touch. ‘He may have been hurt but he was getting up as I took off.’

‘Would you have any reason to believe that someone wanted to hurt you,’ Ronson probed.

Bradford thought of his brother-in-law but dismissed it. ‘No not at all. Why would anyone want to hurt me, I’m only a footballer?’

‘Maybe so, but people have done far worse for far less,’ Pullman admitted. ‘Upset anyone lately, had an argument that sort of thing.’

‘Not unless you count my wife,’ Bradford said laughing nervously. ‘Anyway, I’ve been in Italy for three years.’ He chuckled again, ‘I might have said a few Leeds United supporters but they won so I have no idea.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ Pullman answered returning the laugh before turning serious. ‘We seem to be having an epidemic of football related violence now. Thugs at games are a problem for some clubs.’

Bradford had read about a few unsavoury incidents but changed the subject. ‘How is the petrol attendant, is he O.K?’

‘Looks as if he’s gone five rounds with Henry Cooper. Two black eyes, busted nose that sort of thing, but he’ll be fine,’ Ronson disclosed. ‘We’ve taken his statement and he corroborates all you told us.’

Bradford gave a sigh of relief. ‘Thank heaven for that. I must admit I was a little worried.’

Pullman smiled for the first time. ‘Our job is to arrest the bad guys, well that’s the way it should be anyway. Unfortunately, innocent people get in the way; Mister Dixon was one of them.’

Ronson sucked a mouthful of smoke and then tapped the ash from his shortening cigarette onto the floor. ‘What worries me is why? I can’t see a motive in their attempted assault. It just doesn’t make sense.’

Bradford was about to make a comment when there was a knock on the door. It opened enough for a constable to appear. ‘Mister Bradford’s solicitor is here,’ he said.

Bradford was as surprised as the two detectives. ‘What solicitor. Do I need one?’ he said feeling uneasy.

Ronson went to the door and disappeared. A minute later he returned with Bradford’s father-in-law Bill Wainwright in tow.

‘Don’t say anymore until we’ve had a talk,’ Wainwright prompted his son-in-law straight away.

Pullman responded, ‘Why, he’s not under arrest,’ he got to his feet, ‘In fact, he’s free to go,’ the detective reached out to shake Bradford’s hand, ‘and we thank him for his co-operation.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Wainwright realized. He moved closer to the two detectives. ‘There is one thing I’d like clarifying though?’

‘And what would that be,’ Ronson asked as he pushed his chair under the table.

‘I know my car has been damaged but why did that policeman ring me back and tell me James here has been arrested and in serious trouble.’

Both detectives contemplated their answer before Ronson answered. ‘I can assure you Mister Wainwright that none of our officers would have rung you about Mister Bradford. He was not under arrest.’ The detective pulled another cigarette from its packet. ‘Did he give you a name by any chance?’

‘Sergeant Smith,’ Wainwright answered.

Both detectives chuckled. ’Not even an original name,’ Pullman mused. ‘I think you might have been duped, we have a Jones but no Smith. I have no idea why someone would ring you, but it certainly adds to the oddities that Johnny here has told us.’

Bill Wainwright had a few questions but ten minutes later he was no wiser than Johnny himself. They left together with Bradford promising to return the following day to look through a series of mug shots. In Wainwright’s company car Johnny retold his story from start to finish. His father-in-law listened intently before commenting.

‘It’s a good job Jill and the children weren’t with you. It could have been far worse.’

‘About the car,’ Johnny said. ‘I’m sorry, I’ll get it fixed.’

‘Forget it; it was hardly your fault,’ Wainwright stated. ‘I’ll have my insurance company take a look.’

Johnny looked across at his wife’s father and admitted that a lot had changed between them over the last few years.

Morgans drove alone to the farm house. Giving his chauffeur Wheldon a menial job driving his wife in the spare car to the hairdressers, he took his Rolls Royce and drove the twenty miles in complete silence. Surrounded by picturesque woodlands and farm land the old house and barn were in need of repair. Terry Fall had secretly bought the unused property in complete anonymity. Using a few proxies, he had acquired it with the aid of a London solicitor that Quincy Barnham had recommended. Inside Fall had furnished it sparsely. Being very rarely there the old kitchen table with the four matching chairs was adequate for his needs. Sir Giles slid the chair from under the table and looked down in disgust.

‘Don’t you ever clean,’ he said as he used his handkerchief to dust off the seat. ‘This place is a mess.’

Fall ignored the jibe. ‘Here’s the money,’ he said tossing the brown stuffed envelope of money in front of Morgans.

‘Looks thicker than normal, how much,’ Sir Giles enquired.

Fall pulled a face, ‘no idea, I couldn’t be bothered counting it, maybe five or a little more?’

‘You are getting blasé I must say,’ Morgans stated as he slipped the envelope inside his jacket. ‘A bit like stopping Bradford, I thought you had a plan.’

Fall snarled, ‘I did but those idiots I used…’

‘Typical blame someone else,’ Morgans interrupted smugly. ‘It was your plan and it failed. There’s only one person to blame and that’s you.’ Fall for once had no answer so Sir Giles continued. ‘Now that he’s signed and back at the club I think it’s in our best interests to use his ability don’t you.’

Fall had come to the same conclusion but he kept it to himself.

Both the Bradford children were oblivious to their father’s latest escapade. Jill on the other hand was distraught.

‘You could have been injured or even worse,’ she scolded him. ‘How many more times; these incidents are becoming too frequent to mention.’ She held both his hands at his sides as she looked up at him. ‘I’m worried.’

‘There’s no need to be, I can take care of myself,’ her husband answered.

‘You were lucky, if that man had stabbed you who know what might have happened?’

‘Well he didn’t and I’m fine so there’s no harm done.’ He leaned down and kissed her gently. ‘Anyway, the police have an idea who did it after I saw him in the mug shots. Once he’s in custody then I’m sure they’ll get to the bottom of it.’ He kissed her again but this time a little longer. ‘Now let’s relax and enjoy the rest of my time off.’

A few weeks later Johnny headed to the first day of pre-season training early. Meeting at Banks Park he had taken the bus and then walked the remaining quarter mile. As he moved towards the stadium he was stuck by the poor state it was in. In the three years since his transfer to and from Italy, it had deteriorated even further than he had imagined. Visiting on only one occasion as a spectator he had not realised the severity of its deterioration. Even the parking area needed attention. Potholes were dotted across its entire surface. He avoided stepping into a few as he made his way to the player’s entrance. Inside only a few of the ceiling lights were working and the hall way looked dirty. Bradford moved slowly taking everything in including the dusty smell. Wondering what he let himself in for he moved up the stairs and headed to his manager’s office. Vera as usual was sitting at her desk.

‘Hello Vera,’ he said with a big smile. ‘How are you?’

‘Johnny,’ she said looking up. ‘It’s good to have you back.’ She stood up came around the desk and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was surprised but not shocked; they had been on good terms for years. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘I hope you can pull the club out of the doldrums because someone has to.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ he answered as he released himself from her grasp. ‘Is he in yet?’

‘Yes, he’s always here. He comes in before me most mornings.’

‘Good, he wants to see me; I’ll pop in now if he’s not busy.’

In the manager’s office, he sat down and looked around. It was bare and devoid of decoration. No photos of any description gave away the manager’s previous football involvement. Cooper had a pot of tea at his disposal so he poured another cup for himself and one for Johnny.

‘Sugar,’ Cooper asked.

‘No thank you, I’m trying to wean myself off it. It must be the Italian coffee; tea with sugar seem too sweet these days.’

Cooper dropped two cubes in his own before handing Bradford’s tea over. ‘Look I’ve called you in early for a quiet chat. It’s a little sensitive and I didn’t want to talk about it on the phone.’ Standing up the manager walked to his door and made sure it was fully closed. He dropped his voice a little as he sat back down. ‘As you are aware your signature had a little bit of how shall I put it; skulduggery attached. It’s that that I want to talk to you about. ‘

Bradford had a knowing smile, ‘I did wonder about that at the time.’

Cooper leaned slightly forward across his desk. ‘That first contract you pretended to sign was your old one. The second was the real one. Without going into detail about the reasons we need to keep this just between ourselves. As far as anyone at the club knows your signature was above board.’

Johnny took a drink of his tea before answering. ‘May I speak frankly?’ Cooper nodded. ‘From the moment, you called me at the Lakes I knew there was something amiss. When has a player ever had to race across the country to sign for another club in the off-season? Even I could tell there was a problem.’ Bradford pointed towards where Sir Giles Morgans office would be. ‘I may be wrong but I can hazard a guess Sir Giles was behind it?’

‘It was Sir Giles bank actually,’ Cooper partially agreed. ‘You had to sign before the club went under the temporary transfer embargo. As far as they know you signed with a minute to spare.’

Bradford had his doubts but kept silent on the matter. ‘No one will be hearing anything from me you can be assured of that.’

Seconds later there was a knock on the door. Sir Giles opened it and came in at the manager’s request.

‘I heard you were here,’ he said to Johnny who stood up. ‘I’ve just popped in to welcome you back.’ Morgans reached out his hand and shook Bradford’s strongly. ‘Now we may be able to score the goals we need to win this league.’ Sir Giles looked at Cooper with a lopsided grin. ‘He paid more than I wanted but I’m sure it will be money well spent. Right I’ll leave you to it, first day of pre-season and all that.’

Bradford was so dumb struck that he never said a word.

Cooper had a little more news that his new signing was far from happy with. United’s training facility had been sold to the council. Gordon Dewhurst the current mayor of Hampton and Morgans had come to a financial agreement. Both were more than happy. Cooper had complained bitterly but the facility now stood idle. He now had his club training at the towns community grounds. Over used the fields were poor. Even in summer the grass barely had time to recover before the local clubs had it deteriorating rapidly. Cooper, with Bradford in the car, pulled up within walking distance of his right-hand man’s choice of pitch. All the rest of the players were already in attendance, including the youth team. Bradford noticed the lack of numbers compared to previous years. One player amongst the group immediately took Johnny’s eye as he walked over. Fall was all alone juggling a tattered football. He barely glanced in Johnny’s direction when the rest of the group came over to be introduced or reacquainted. Cooper allowed the pleasantries before he nodded to Garry Barrett. His assistant soon had the group running. Bradford found it far easier than he had anticipated and was hardly tired when the session ended. Talking to veteran Dan Tanner as they headed to the cars he quizzed him on his new team mates and the manager’s methods.

‘Yeh, he’s O.K. a little bit soft maybe, but his hands are tied,’ the goalkeeper told him as they walked side by side. ‘Some of our players are a far cry from the ones you’re used to,’ Tanner reluctantly admitted.

‘What about his assistant and the coach. I haven’t heard of them, what are they like?’ Johnny asked as they reached Tanners car.

‘Barrett’s the same as the gaffer but Oxbridge a right bastard. Don’t get on his wrong side whatever you do,’ the goalkeeper warned. ‘Even at home he rules with a rod of iron, or so I’m told?’

‘Thanks for the warning,’ Johnny responded. ‘Right let’s go to the Bankers Arms for a pint then.’

‘Not a chance,’ Tanner said unlocking his door. ‘We haven’t been there in, I don’t know how long. The Purple Parrot is where we go now.’

‘That old dive, it’s full of the scum of the world.’ Bradford said remembering a previous visit.

‘Not anymore, they’ve moved to the Arms,’ Tanner admitted. ‘Only Fall from all the players dare go there.’

Johnny didn’t need to answer it made complete sense. They drove there in no time, parked virtually out the front, and went in. Most of the players were already there and knocking back their first pint. Even some of the youth players had downed half a glass in the short time they had been there. Johnny looked around; the place had had a remarkable makeover since his last visit. Neat and tidy the pub’s walls had been painted off white with the architraves purple. On one wall a series of paintings depicting various parrots surrounded a replica of the pub’s Purple Parrot sign. It looked a little outlandish but the clientele had got used to its bright appearance. Bradford sat down near the redundant fire place. His comfortable seat gave him a clear view of most of his team mates. Tanner came over handed a pint to Johnny and sat down opposite.

‘Well, what do you think, it’s not too bad is it?’ the goalkeeper asked.

‘Better than the last time I was here,’ Bradford answered. ‘So, the Bankers Arms has completely gone downhill since I was last there?’

Tanner slurped down a mouthful of his Tetley’s before answering. ‘Worst pub in Hampton so they say, all the thugs and layabout’s go there. In fact, it’s worse on match days.’

‘Surely the police keep an eye on the place?’ Bradford asked between sips.

‘You’ve got to be joking, they gave up. There were so many fights on a Saturday between not only themselves but other supporters they left them to it.’ Tanner admitted.

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Bradford answered puzzled. ‘What are they going to do about it?’

‘Nothing, unless the authorities get tough,’ Tanner stated. ‘If the judges didn’t let them off with a small fine or a menial sentence then I can’t see anything ever changing.’

Bradford was about to give his opinion when they were joined by some of his old team mates. An hour later Johnny gave his farewell. When he left, a large group were still drinking heavily. On his way home Johnny thought about the players he knew little about. In the time, he had two drinks a group of them had downed at least twice that number. Three had even bought a whiskey chaser which had been dropped unceremoniously into the pint glasses they had. It had been hard to tell from his vantage point but he was sure that at least four players were drunk.

Over the following couple of weeks Bradford was dismayed to see training followed by the same scenario. Only he and a few of the others kept their drinking to a minimum. Having been in Italy Johnny had learned the art of controlling his food and fluid intake. He enjoyed a drink the same as the next man but being a professional footballer he was aware of its detrimental effects on his performance. When he chose a mineral water or orange juice instead of a pint he was ridiculed. The heavy drinkers lampooned him the moment he had a soft drink in his hand. He was old enough and wise enough to ignore their comments and laughed it off as they chastised him. They not only gave him a hard time but picked on most of the members of the club. Youth players were especially the butt of their amusement as they went about creating havoc. It was obvious to Bradford that the players were not only a disjointed unit but an unfit one. His observations were proved correct when in United’s annual game against Dovesend the team struggled from start to finish. Ending one apiece the result was the first time the non-league side had got any sort of result. Cooper didn’t seem too perturbed when the game finished, saying very little about the team’s lack of application. A few days later a three-nil defeat at Tranmere was still glossed over as the manager seemed reluctant to give the players the ticking off they clearly needed. Johnny had played half a game in each but had finished each game a frustrated man. He sat in the changing room and watched players laughing and joking despite the poor performance. Hampton’s only coloured player Thomas Duke walked over and sat down beside him.

‘What did you think of that J. B.’ he asked.

‘Do you really want me to tell you Thomas?’ Bradford answered between gritted teeth.

Duke nodded, ‘I do actually because if I know you, you’ll tell it like it is.’

Bradford lowered his voice, ‘hopeless, is the word I’d use. What’s happened since I left, the club had great potential. Now the team is full of players who couldn’t careless, how did it come to this?’ Duke shook his head as Johnny whispered, ‘and you, what’s this I hear about you only playing reserves?’

‘After you left and the Boss resigned I soon found myself left out more and more. I haven’t played a competitive first team game for two years.’

Bradford was now shaking his head, ‘you’re the best full-back the clubs had for years, and it doesn’t make sense?’

Duke answered as he took off his left boot, ‘I can only guess that our Captain has something to do with it.’

Johnny frowned and was about ask when the answer presented its self. Ed Neill moved towards Duke. He reached out his arm grabbed Duke by the wrist and pulled him from the bench.

‘Get back to your own tree you monkey,’ Neill insultingly demanded. ‘Get back over there and stay there.’

Bradford stood up and pushed himself between the two players. ‘Sit back down Thomas,’ Johnny told him as he stared into the captain’s eyes. ‘You have as much right to sit here as anyone.’ The two were so close that they could feel each other’s breath. Bradford waited a few seconds before he spoke his mind. ‘I’ve only known you a little while Neill but what you just said and did I’d say you were a bully and a bigot.’ Neill had his fists clenched by his side as Johnny continued. ‘Its people like you who make me sick, I’m fed up with you and your likes, you feel superior for some reason but your actions prove your actually inferior.’ All the players had got to their feet and were listening intently. Only Fall moved closer. Neill had never been spoken to like that by his peers and was tongue tied. Fall got him out of his mess by intervening

‘I think you might be mistaken Johnny,’ Fall said calmly. ‘Ed was only joking, weren’t you Ed.’?

‘Oh, ah, Yeh, it was just a joke,’ Neill lied. ‘No hard feelings Dukkie.’ He said as he leaned around Bradford to see the full-back. Duke gave a nod but nothing more.

Johnny turned slowly away, ‘well keep that crap to yourself next time.’

Fall pulled Neill away and whispered in his ear as they moved across the room. Bradford watched from his now sitting position but could not make out the words.

Thomas Duke leaned toward the older player. ‘Thanks, that’s the first time anyone has stood up to him,’ he dropped his voice to a whisper, ‘including Dan.’

Bradford was surprised. ‘I think I may just have to have a word with our goalkeeper.’

Standing in his goal after training Dan Tanner listened to Johnny’s complaint before he answered.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I don’t like it any more than you do but he has a lot of influence. Things have changed a lot since you left, most of them for the worst.’

‘So, it would appear, but I’m not sitting back and listening to idiots like him abusing players for his own amusement. Thomas is a good player and deserves to be in the team. Is Neill picking the team or what?’ Johnny asked.

Tanner rolled a ball between both hands as he spoke, ‘I don’t think so but whenever Dukkie plays Neill complains to the Gaffer that he’s not doing his job.’

‘There must be more to it than that Dan, surely?’ Bradford questioned.

Tanner started bouncing the ball he was holding, ‘There probably is but as I said I have no idea.’

Johnny grabbed it before the goalkeeper could get it back into his gloves. ‘Anyway Dan, as I said before why not get involved, it’s never stopped you in the past. Remember the player strike you were at the fore front of a few years back?’

‘Mm, I remember,’ Tanner admitted, ‘but as I said things have changed, I’m getting older it’s just not worth it.’

Bradford spoke forcefully, ’Well if I were you you’d better change because if you don’t this club will be heading for not only the third division but the fourth as well.’

Coopers teams final pre-season friendly against Coventry was the worst to date. A paltry crowd of fifteen hundred bothered to watch. Their only consolation was Bradford’s first goal since his return. Conceding six the team capitulated before Johnny produced a touch of brilliance to break his duck. After the match, even the manager was a worried man. He locked himself in his office and even turned his assistant Garry Barrett away when he knocked on his door.

Johnny decided to take matters into his own hands and rang several the players. They all gathered under the impression of a club get together. Meeting at Bradford’s father-in-law’s they mingled in the back garden with their families. August’s mild temperature was perfect as the Bradford’s quickly arranged get together got into full swing. As the afternoon turned to evening and the children started to get tired he gathered all the players he had invited for a talk. They squeezed into the kitchen before Bradford closed the door.

‘If you haven’t already guessed this get together is not just a social occasion,’ Johnny confessed. ‘You haven’t been invited here by accident. If you’re here I wanted you here.’

‘Why,’ someone asked.

‘Because our clubs in trouble and were the only ones who can get us out of it.’ Johnny believingly said.

‘Why me, I’m not in the first team,’ Stephen Patrick asked before looking at the others. ‘In fact, half of the players here aren’t in the team either.’

Bradford had an answer. ‘That’s right, it’s because you are the only players that seem to care about your football and possibly the club.’

Brad Burns had a question, ‘and the others?’

‘Let’s just say they don’t care,’ Johnny told him. ‘Do you honestly think that we would be playing so badly if every player was working for the good of the team?’

Thomas Duke spoke up. ‘What can we do if were stuck in the reserves?’

‘Well for a start you can train as hard as you can to get in or back in. In fact, that goes for everybody, whether you’re in or not,’ Johnny stipulated.

‘You’re forgetting one thing,’ Gordon Leaming declared, ‘the others; what about them?’

Bradford shocked the group. ‘They don’t matter.’

‘What do you mean they don’t matter,’ Tanner finally commenting. ‘You’ll only have half a team on side every week. I don’t see how that’s going to help.’

Bradford smiled for the first time since the meeting started. ‘Half a team is better than none, because at the moment we’re a team of individuals. No team togetherness despite all the joking and hijinks. If we all train hard I guarantee the others will eventually follow suit.’

‘There’s a good spirit in the dressing room,’ Ted Green said.

‘Is there,’ Johnny corrected, 'only if you’re not the butt of the ridicule and jokes.’ He looked at all the stern faces. ‘How many here would skip the pub or have less to drink if you weren’t cajoled into it.’ Heads nodded agreement. ‘That’s what I mean; drinking for someone else that’s what it amounts to. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to stop enjoying a drink,’ Bradford held out his arms, ‘but how can it be good if virtually the whole team has drunk the pub dry every week.’

‘It’s alright for you you’re a well -known player, we can’t go against the captain,’ apprentice Phillip McCulloch added.

Johnny played his final card. ‘You can, if we all stick together. We’ve got to back each other up it’s as simple as that.’ He edged to the kitchen door, ‘discuss it amongst your selves. You can give me your answer when I come back.’

Closing the door behind him he heard Dan Tanner taking up the argument before he headed outside for ten minutes. When he opened the kitchen door later there were a few smiles.

‘Well what’s the verdict then,’ Johnny asked.

Dan Tanner grinned at his team mate, ‘We’re all in agreement; we’ll do it your way. What do you suggest?’

‘This is what we’ll do,’ Bradford said. ‘But it has to be between us and no one else.’

Cooper watching his squad train could see a difference. Standing with assistant Garry Barrett the manager was elated.

‘I don’t know what’s come over some of them,’ he stated to Barrett. ‘There seems to be a vigour that I haven’t seen for some time.’

Barrett watched the five aside as he spoke. ‘Even in the warm up the players seemed focused. We haven’t had that all season, I wonder what’s got into them?’

‘Maybe the bollocking’s Bill’s been giving them is finally sinking in,’ Cooper surmised.

As he spoke Captain Ed Neill’s attempted block tackle on Gordon Leaming not only sent a sound vibrating from the ball but had the defender flailing to the ground. He jumped to his feet to confront the midfielder, but Leaming was stroking it into the unattended goal. Neill was incensed and confronted the younger man as he walked back to half way. After turning the air blue in an overreaction Neill was only a foot away from Leaming when he stopped swearing.

‘You did that on purpose Leaming; I’ll do you next time,’ Neill spat as he stared at his team mate.

Leaming didn’t back down. ‘Oh, will you now, I doubt that, by the way you tackle I doubt whether you could take the skin off a rice pudding.’

Neill’s rage was rising as he stood toe to toe with the unrepentant Leaming. ‘Your times up in this team Leaming; mark my words.’

As others players gathered round Leaming had the final say. ‘I doubt that, you probably won’t be in the team your forms that bad.’

With the final word the midfield man turned away. Only Bradford saw the wink as he left Neill staring at his back. Neill went to follow but Terry Fall interceded. Grabbing his arm, he dragged him away and said a few words in his ear. Garry Barrett had been moving closer as the altercation took place but stopped when the two antagonists separated. He waited thirty seconds before he had the game recommencing. It was only two minutes later when Neill, still fuming from his altercation, slid dangerously from behind on Bradford. The costly signing felt the full force of Neill’s right foot against his Achilles. Bradford’s left leg immediately buckled under him as the pain shot up his leg. For once several players protested at Neill’s unnecessary challenge. Surrounding the perpetrator, they complained bitterly. Neill had never been harangued to such an extent. He became flustered and tried to justify his tackle. They ignored his excuses. Barrett came to his rescue and ushered him away while the manager checked on his star player. Needing treatment Bradford was half carried to the sideline and then to the managers’ car. Hampton’s lack of facilities at the grounds ment a twenty-minute car ride to Banks Park. Half an hour later, after being assessed, Johnny had his foot immersed in a bucket of cold water. He sat relaxed despite the freezing temperature.

‘I’ll be fine Boss,’ he stated to Cooper who stood looking down into the water. ‘It was painful at the time but I don’t think it’s as bad as it could