Diamond Geezers, Episode 11: Rushden v Fulham in the League Cup
Despite putting Gary Mills’ transfer price up to £1m to ward off predators, Nottingham Forest declare themselves interested. “Millsy”, as he’s unimaginatively known around here, has been a little legend this season, there’s no doubt. But one million pounds? I could do with that in the coffers. Pflipsen’s injury means he’ll probably be getting more games in the coming weeks, so let’s dangle him over the side for the Forest sharks to nibble at.
The team bus grumbles its way northward once more as Carlisle United greet us in the first round of the FA Cup. They’re only 12th in Division 3, but I am very concerned at their firepower up front, particularly a young man by the name of Johnny Allan. He looks a fine prospect, with four attributes — including Finishing — already sitting at 20. He partners Richie Foran up front to form a potent strike partnership. I make a bid to try to unsettle him before the game starts, while also cackling and rubbing my hands together.
I then get a call from an unknown number. Someone called Ritchie Hanlon is on the end and asks for assurances regarding his future. I politely ask him who he is. It turns out he’s a central midfielder who’s sitting in my reserves, and his contract expires in six months. I reassuringly put the phone down and transfer list him immediately.
There’s excitement on the M6 as word filters through that the League Cup Quarter Finals have been drawn. Fulham have overcome Chelsea in their replay, so we play them first, and the winner will meet Preston or Leicester in the last eight. It’s more great news on our march to the cup, as we’ve managed to avoid Chelsea, Man Utd and Liverpool. However, that Fulham game is right after this one, which changes my team selection. I need to protect some people for the next game. I shuffle the pack with an eye on the Cottagers, and we go again.
Johnny Allan doesn’t play, and while Richie Foran is a menace — creating a goal for defender Dave Rogers and having a few efforts on target of his own — we look comfortable throughout. Møller opens the scoring with a wonderful solo effort from a Jamie Davies pass, then in the second half he gives the ball to Farnerud. The young Swede goes on a mazy run past Andrews and Willis, then wallops a shot low past Peter Guthrie. Then, with just a few minutes left, Møller plays a one-two with Mills and rifles the return pass into the roof of the net, and it’s a great start to our latest cup adventure.
Not a great day for Ronaldo, but that’s ok. He’s mostly just a haircut at the moment. I’m more worried about Freddie Risp, who finished on yet another 6.
Unbelievably, Forest do make a £1m bid for Gary Mills. I am basically forced to accept — it’s an insane offer, and after the emergence of young Jamie Davies, I feel like we can cope with the loss. I never expected Mills to even play a part in this side, let alone do what he’s done for us so far this season. He goes to the City Ground with our very best wishes, until we have to play Forest, in which case I hope he breaks his leg the week before.
The FA Cup second round is drawn, and it turns out we’ll have to go to Loftus Road to face bloody Queens Park Rangers. If we can put them out, it’ll at least ease the pain of our inevitable defeat of Brentford in the Vans Trophy.
It’s a massive day for Man Utd’s Ronny Johnsen, who wins not only the Norwegian Player of the Year Award, but also Defender of the Year and Midfielder of the Year. Slim pickings in 2001, it would seem. In Conference news, Morecambe appoint part-time private investigator Dick Campbell as their new manager. The rest of the teams in the league close their shutters accusingly. In a similar move, I send a nefarious scout to hug the exterior wall at the training ground next to Craven Cottage as we prepare for Fulham. This is going to be easily our biggest test so far.
They play a 4–4–2 and aren’t doing great in the Premier League, and they’ll miss John Collins and Chris Coleman through injury, but let’s face facts: this is still a team that features Edwin Van Der Sar, Louis Saha, Louis Boa-Morte and Steve Marlet. I consider being more conservative for this one, but then pick up my tactical magnetic whiteboard and throw it out of the window. In Irthlingborough, we only have one mantra: go hard or go home. And we’re already playing at home.
I make changes to put together what I think is my strongest team. It’ll be the toughest game of young Davies’ life in the heart of my midfield, but I have a plan for how to change things if he’s overwhelmed by the occasion. Otherwise, it’s our strongest available side — we lose Monk, Colosimo, Plummer and Carlisle, who are all cup-tied, and Pflipsen has still got a bruised toe and looks sad.
My heart is thumping in my chest. This is where we make our stand. Let’s hear that Nene Park roar!
I am ridiculously tense as the game kicks off with no commentary for the first ten. On 13 minutes, Bubb whips the ball onto the head of Møller, six yards out… but he puts it wide. I would scream at him if I wasn’t scared he’d rip me in half like a phone book. Immediately afterwards, Ferdinand smashes an effort that Van Der Sar saves. We look good, but Fulham decide they’ve had enough and start tearing forward. They look menacing, but only manage one shot on target — Pinheiro beating away a fierce strike from Saha.
I am shaking as we win a free kick high up the pitch towards the end of the half. Underwood swings it in, onto the head of young Davies — but Van Der Sar tips it over the bar! I realise I’ve been holding my breath for almost four solid minutes as Mustafa gets onto the end of another Underwood delivery, but Van Der Sar gets down at his near post to turn it away. The half time whistle blows and I am utterly beside myself. We are the better team here. We are the better team. We just need a goal, just a single goal, and to keep it steady at the back. I rouse the lads with several photos of Winston Churchill and an almighty scream, and send them back out to meet their destinies.
We start brightly once more. Ferdinand tests Van Der Sar with a stinging drive, then spots the massive keeper off his line. He goes for the chip! Agonisingly over the bar. We’re playing so well here I can hardly believe it.
Then, disaster strikes. We haven’t been able to stop Bjarne Goldbaek on the Fulham right all afternoon, and he swings yet another a cross into the box that Barry Hayles meets. Pinheiro can’t do anything about it, and we trail 1–0 to Premier League Fulham with half an hour to go. It’s a nightmare.
I consider my options quickly as the game continues. They’ve scored against the run of play, nobody can deny it, so what do you do? I hover my finger over the changes button as the clock ticks towards 75 minutes. I can’t believe we’re getting knocked out after playing so well. Mustafa thumps a ball long towards Møller, who heads down for Bubb. Bubb goes wide and whips a cross into the six yard box, and Ferdinand is there! FERDINAND! LES FERDINAND SCORES! It’s 1–1! What a move, what a goal! We’re back in it!
I hastily make a change. Kah is on a 6 and that won’t do, so I hook him for Convery. Fulham have gone all-out attack. I don’t blink, choosing instead to trust my players. They are suddenly all over us, Saha constantly threatening, but we’re holding out.
With a minute left, I decide to roll the dice. I seriously hope I’m not a moron as I put Ronaldo on for midfielder Davies, and go to three up front. Farnerud is in for Brandon. Let’s sucker punch these… suckers.
We don’t sucker punch them, and full time arrives. It’s 1–1, and extra time looms. I gather the players on the pitch in a huddle. I’ve got tears in my eyes as I read out all the names of Irthlingborough’s inspirational people from history. It doesn’t take long because there is only one — me — but the players have fire in their eyes as they head back out onto the pitch to a frenzied roar from the Rushden Ultras. Literally everyone who lives here is in the stadium as we kick off the first half of extra time.
Mad Dog McKinlay trips Steve Finnan on the edge of the box. Louis Saha lines up the free kick, but puts it over the bar. Pinheiro already has another ball down and launches the goal kick to McKinlay, who plays a ball wide to Mustafa. He opens the taps and makes some serious ground down the Fulham left, looks up, and pumps a ball into the box towards Møller. The Great Dane rises above Kit Symons and powers his header past Van Der Sar — IT’S 2–1! IT’S 2–1! My girlfriend (yes, I do have one) almost jumps out of her pyjamas at my scream as the goal goes in. We’re ahead!!
McKinlay has taken over as our main creative force, and he lifts the ball forward towards Ferdinand in the penalty area. Sir Les, graceful as a swan yet powerful like the traction engine, turns and slides the ball across the six-yard area where Peter Bloody Møller is there again to slam it past Van Der Sar!! It’s 3–1 in extra time, with just ten minutes to go!
I take the hint and stop everyone’s forward runs. I leave our team instructions as they are, but now we won’t be flying forward with the same regularity. I click Continue. Fulham try to attack but they can’t stop Ronaldo from hitting the post, not once, but twice in the last ten minutes — and it’s over! It’s over! We’ve beaten Fulham! Nene Park erupts! The impossible dream is coming true! IT’S COMING HOME!
