Diamond Geezers, Episode 66: Pray for Chugger
Once the hangovers have subsided and I’ve managed to get the unconscious body of Alex Farnerud out from under my desk, I’m able to really savour the beginnings of a new year. It’s 2004, Mad World by Tears for Fears is in my ears, and we’re just a couple of days out from our first FA Cup tie of the season, against a familiar foe: Burnley are returning to Nene Park to avenge the 3–2 defeat we laid on them just a few weeks ago.
I’m glad to see that their squad is a sea of injuries and cup-tied players, including total bastard (and Scotland legend) John Collins who dominated the midfield against us last time out. We, on the other hand, are on a six-match winning streak with my newly-settled side, and I have no appetite for rotation. I restore Baggio and Ferdinand to the bench mostly because I feel bad for leaving such mythical players out of my squad entirely, which is hard on Benjani and Farnerud, who’ve done nothing to deserve it except not be the Divine Ponytail and Sir Les, Knight of the Realm. Källström is suspended for getting yellow cards in every game he plays, and Victory has picked up a “training injury” that I’m sure has nothing to do with the jagerbombs I saw him doing at the New Years party, so Kalvenes continues at left back in his place.
Stan Ternent might well need a snifter from my dugout drinks cabinet at the break, because his team have an absolute shocker all the way through the opening half. The first 15 or so minutes are pretty even, but it’s Javan who strikes first — collecting a one-two from Mahouvé, advancing on goal, then hitting a swerving long-range drive that beats Alan Miller all ends up to give us the lead.
Shortly afterwards, we’re extremely grateful to Pinheiro for making a spectacular double save: Andy Impey passes forward for Alex Notman, who gets past Kalvenes and ‘must score’ — but Hugo not only turns his shot away, but when Ian Moore gathers the loose ball and slams it towards the top corner, our Portuguese mammoth rises from the turf to claw the ball over the bar! It’s a phenomenal stop that galvanises the rest of the team, and in the blink of an eye, we’re 3–0 up: yes, not satisfied with scoring his second of the day with a fierce drive following a jinking run past Mack McGregor and Micah Hyde, Meysam Javan then beats Brian McAllister wide on the right and swings over a deep cross that Azar Karadas meets in the air to pump past Miller to give us what seems to be an unassailable half-time advantage.
The second half is a washout; we have a few more chances, they have one more shot on target that Pinheiro easily deals with, but in truth, Burnley never worry me. They don’t really create anything, they’re tepid and slow to attack, and they’re grateful that Hysén’s radar is a little awry as he clips the post and bar with shots from the edge of the box. We’ll send our rivals home with their tails between their legs here, and Ternent will be furious. His team barely showed up for him. Onward to the next stage of the FA Cup we go!
The Fourth Round draw is immediately made, and it’s a doozy: we’re off to White Hart Lane for an away tie against yet another Premier League team. My first ever FA Cup is going to have to be won the hard way, it would appear. No worries though lads. It’s only Spurs.
Right then, leave those kits on, because there’s absolutely no time between our games any more and Barnsley are already here for our next Division One game. They’re 21st in the league, and on current form, I don’t feel like they should be much of a challenge for my all-conquering side. In a bizarre scheduling twist, we actually have Barnsley in consecutive league games: we play them today at Nene Park, then we all go back to Oakwell for the return fixture in three days’ time. Maybe we can get a lift.
I switch my subs so that Benjani and Källström are back amongst them, but otherwise, I’m not going to change my all-conquering team. Lube up those knees and get right back out there.
It’s pure dominance from start to finish. This is the Rushden and Diamonds I love! The Ultras are dancing in the stands from the first whistle, and although Barnsley keep the ship steady for the opening 45 and only allow us three shots on target, all saved by Neil Cutler, they can’t get out of their own third and don’t create any chances of their own. They’ve basically survived us as the whistle goes for half time… but I can already see it’s not going to last.
And it doesn’t — by 50 minutes, Karadas has his third Diamonds goal, springing above Gary Speed to meet a Byron Bubb cross and head down past Cutler for 1–0, and while the Peter De Banke Terrace is still celebrating, Mahouvé jinks past Speed and wellies a shot at goal, Cutler saves, but Tobias Hysén mops up the rebound for 2–0. We continue to swashbuckle our way through the Barnsley defence, but find Cutler inspired from that point on — and actually, in the last five minutes after I’ve disrupted my team with protective subs, Barnsley are unlucky not to score themselves. They instead find Pinheiro in yet more inspired form, and he beats away efforts from Dyer and Gray to keep his sheets clean as a whistle. The referee calls for the end of the game, we’ve only bloody won again — and in very convincing fashion, too. A lot of teams buckle under the strain of the crushing winter fixture schedule, but we’ve done the opposite. What a time to find this kind of form.
It turns out that the Tykes came down on the train, so I offer them a lift back to Oakwell, which Nigel Spackman accepts — and before we know it, we’re getting to know the Barnsley players extremely well, and what’s left of Chugger’s suspension is buckling under the strain of double capacity as we crawl along the A1 to Yorkshire. While we’re getting cosy, a call comes in from Susan to tell me that Wolves have drawn again, this time at home to Bristol City: so while our lead at the top is cut, we’re now five points top with a game in hand. Jackanackanory!
Very little scouting is needed on our opponents since we just played them and they’re now sitting on our laps, so really I just need to consider my own team. Do I change anything? I don’t really see any reason to; we’ve won eight on the bounce and kept five consecutive clean sheets, so it seems crazy to tinker with a side that aren’t letting any goals in. With that in mind, and everyone’s armpits registered as hazardous, we line up at Oakwell for our second game against Barnsley in three drizzly January days.
When Byron Bubb puts us 1–0 up after nine minutes, I’m already on the phone to the bookies to put my dwindling transfer kitty on us to win by a landslide — but I put my phone down just before I place it, because five minutes later, our run of clean sheets is over. Barnsley put together a neat team move through midfield that ends up at the cultured left foot of Gary Speed, and despite the fact that his multitude of talents have been shunted out to the wing, he still comfortably has the quality to drill a low cross into the Corridor of Uncertainty™ where Bruce Dyer lurks, and he sweeps home Barnsley’s equaliser to shatter our defensive run.
I’m watching the game through narrowed eyes as I suspect our opponents of eavesdropping on my careful tactical plans while they were cuddled up next to us on the bus ride here, but beyond their goal, Barnsley are bang average; Javan and Karadas both go close as the half progresses, and then the goal of the day goes in: Bubb breaks forward, lobs a ball to Karadas, he nods down to the edge of the box, and Hysén arrives to lob the ball gloriously over Cutler and in at the far post to restore our lead. A fabulous goal from my new second-favourite Swede, and that’s how we come in at half time.
Barnsley are certainly making more of a game of this than they did in our previous encounter, but despite that, we’re looking muscular and compact, like corned beef. I leave the team as it is for the start of the second half, and the Black Stone takes only four minutes to meet a Martin Andersson cross at the far post to make it 3–1, and after some jiggling around in my midfield as the game reaches its closing stages, young Farnerud evades both his alcohol poisoning and several Barnsley defenders to meet a Hysén near-post cross for 4–1 with five minutes left — and that’s how we finish. Goalsheets stained, but a fantastic overall performance, and another dominant win.
I feel like I’m walking on air; the awful draws, hopeless defeats and constant goalkeeping problems of recent months have evaporated over this tremendous winning run. The only thing that would ice this delicious victory cake would be some lovely new end-of-contract signings to look forward to in the summer. We were cruelly snubbed by Louis Saha and Assane N’Diaye last time around, but I’ve got some other very competitive bids in for a few top players who I have a lot of confidence will make the right choice. At least I hope they do, because free transfers are going to be my jam for the foreseeable future. That £1.2m transfer budget has… not lasted very long.
Right then, let’s have a look at the old emails. Who’s coming to augment my squad this summer?
Cooooolsies.
You know what? I’m not bothered by those cryoffs, and never mind the fact that we could be completely bankrupt by the end of the season. As we Chugger our way back to Irthlingborough with nine wins in a row and an eight-point gap opened up between ourselves and Wolves, I feel good. All we need to do is keep our wins coming, hope Wolves can’t match us, and we’re cruising to the end of the season.
Right then. Who’s next?
Shit.
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