Take Me To Church, Ep 18: (Here) We Go Again

< Episode 17

The date on the newspapers reads Saturday 14th May 2005, but for all I know, it could be two years in the past or a hundred years in the future. The only reason I know it’s not the latter is that we haven’t reached the collective conclusion that your mobile phone should always be on silent yet, so instead, the screech of 8-bit versions of Candy Shop and the Super Mario theme tune ring through my skull as I shuffle out from underneath several newspapers and into the blinding morning sun on Gerrard Street.

I was planning on having a short break from everything to clear the fire and fury that was raging within me after the great crime of Aldershot, that absolute highway robbery of a game. However, I’ve actually spent the best part of a month parked outside a cocktail and dim sum bar called Opium in the very finest part of London’s Chinatown. The staff call me English, I’ve had every single thing on their menu, and I’ve been in there so often I’ve just started sleeping outside to cut out the middle man. I haven’t showered for 25 days, so having had my fun, I’ve decided it’s probably time to head home. That, and they understandably won’t let me inside any more.

After almost four weeks of sleeping on the side of the road, my clothes are tattered, my body is achey and bruised, and my Nokia 3310 is down to just 45% battery. I smear myself across two District Line seats heading East, and check my texts. I’ve got 36 from Big Sooz, 1,644 from Mick, and two from Jorge, each telling me we won both of our final league games. He’d better not be getting any grand designs on the big chair at Hornchurch. He’ll be busted down to Mick so fast he’ll barely have time to say “no mas”.

Having ignored all my messages I take the time to scroll through the list of Interested players Jorge has prepared for me as part of his regular scouting report, and I’ve got to say, the sheer number of recognisable, brand-name journeymen is incredibly pleasing. Bloody René Higuita is on there, for goodness’ sake. I obviously go out of my way to offer him everything we have left, which in my absence, turns out to be slightly more than there was when I was around. Can’t imagine there’s any correlation.

Knowing we’re both losing half the squad in eight weeks’ time and are in dire need of reinforcements if we’re to compete at the top end of the Conference National, I start dispatching contracts all across the world. There’ll be further flurries once the top clubs start releasing their youth players, but for now, there are plenty of names on the list for me to get my furry teeth into. First up, former Boavista, Benfica, and ten-time Portuguese international Nelo!

As usual I delay the transfer for a week just in case any of my almost 100 other deals comes through and upgrades on him, but regardless, we finally have some proper backup for Cabrera next season. It was much needed; Sam Tillen did his best, bless him, but he wasn’t very good in the end. Plus, Nelo can cross, take corners, and has a decent pen on him as well. Feels like a great option.

I spill out of the tube at Hornchurch station with a monophonic version of the Beverley Hills Cop theme ringing relentlessly from my pocket at full volume. Yes, yes, okay, I’m part of it now too. However, something that was dreadful for my fellow passengers over the last hour is very good for me and the Hornchurch Ultras: a really surprising, almost suspicious number of the contracts I’ve flung in the directions of ageing international megastars are being accepted. I won’t run down the entire list as some are still awaiting work permits that they probably won’t get, and most of them are going to be delayed for at least a week so I can have a bath, but a few of the names on the list are… well. They’re worth confirming early, to say the least, and they’re therefore also worth going over.

I know he’s 36, but look at the state of Dennis de Nooijer. And not just his attributes, but his stats from this season as well — unbelievable stuff. While there is a caveat that Dordrecht aren’t exactly setting the Netherlands on fire in 2004/05, I think it’s obvious why he’s done so well. Plus he’s pretty easy on the eyes, although I will be asking him to get a haircut. He will get a flight to London for July 1st, and I’ll probably be buying a seat next to him on the plane, because…

…that’s right, I’ve also agreed a deal for, I assume, his twin brother, since they were born on the same day, have the same surname, play for the same team, look identical, and have similar approaches to hair styling. Even if he wasn’t Dennis’ twin, you all know full well I’d be signing Gérard de Nooijer anyway. A centre-half with 5 for Tackling but 19 for Dribbling and Flair, along with 8 goals and 17 assists this season? There are no brainers, and then there’s this guy.

I think it’s also clear to see why I’ve got this deal in the works. I have delayed this transfer by a week just in case a deal for a younger, more mouldable DMC comes along — we will still have Pegger and Sarge next season too — but one thing is certainly true. Whoever offers themselves up as an alternative isn’t likely to be the hard-tackling maniac that 21-time German international chopper Steffen Freund is. I fully expect him to also join us in the summer.

He’s got the physicals of a 70-year-old but would be technically one of the best players I will have ever signed in the lower leagues, Kostas Frantzeskos has outrageous numbers. Free kicks, pens and corners would be officially taken care of, added to the fact that he can really pass, has a pretty lethal long shot, he’s a good finisher when arriving late into the box, and also he’d be a good candidate for captain or vice-captain. The total lack of pace, agility and strength does concern me, and he would probably necessitate a change in formation, but even still — what a player.

Yes, an ageing Dutch international he might be, but Richard Witschge — pronunciation unknown — would be a good central midfield option for when we have to sadly say goodbye to Kyle Nix and Stephen Cooke at the end of the season. Crucially coming with 31 Netherlands caps, he’s still a very good all-round central midfielder, with both the Aggression and Flair to be a hit at both ends of the pitch in the Conference National. He also agrees terms by saying he’s keen to “test himself at a higher level”, a truly savage parting shot at ADO’20.

That’s right, it’s not just overseas stars who are in my crosshairs — former Liverpool, Coventry City and Republic of Ireland legend Phil Babb is keen for a shuffling swansong down the divisions, and as a left-sided CB, I am more than a bit interested. Sure, he’s not got outstanding numbers, but in terms of whether he can do a job in my squad, he’s more than capable. Plus he’s a vast improvement on my existing backup defenders, who I wouldn’t trust to tackle the washing up.

I slump down into the warm, comforting, soapy waters of my bathtub in the room above The Windmill, my good work for the day completely absolving me of the untold damage I’ve done to the club by going AWOL for the best part of a month. As I bring my head back up above the water, I hear Big Sooz’s booming voice echo up the stairs. She’s telling me to turn on the TV, I think? I reach drippily for the remote, and click the big red button. I really shouldn’t keep a telly suspended above the bath, but most days, I feel like I might need it there. Today, however, I leap so high at the news that I almost flood the whole building.

He still needs a bloody stamp from the bloody DWP, but my god. If that happens, and this happens… I think that’ll be me. I might just retire on the spot. My life’s work will be complete. Say it quietly so you don’t make your neighbours climax from sheer joy: René Higuita is just a visa application away from being our new goalkeeper. Everyone cross everything forever.

I flick the channel over to watch Arsenal decimate Auxerre in the UEFA Cup Final with goals from Edu, Pires and Ljungberg, and then settle back to enjoy a good soak. My phone is still ringing; this time it’s chairman Gary Calder, who I realise I haven’t told I’m back and still thinks I’m living outside a Chinese restaurant. Ah, it can wait. He’ll surely be delighted to hear all the good news.

Freshly washed and wearing the cleanest clothes I own, I head downstairs to the main bar at The Windmill to say a proper hello to Big Sooz. She engulfs me in a huge hug the moment I appear — she was worried about me, bless her. I reassure her that everything is fine, I just needed a bit of time to get my head together — I just sort of wish I’d had someone to take care of everything while I was away, since I am prone to the occasional sulk-slash-celebration that takes me on benders for several weeks at a time, and I can’t see that changing. I start to lament the loss to Aldershot as an explanation for where I’ve been, but she stops me. She reminds me of the time I signed Les Ferdinand for Rushden & Diamonds, and the time we slayed Barcelona’s B team 7–0 with a Lio Tarachalski hat-trick. We were so happy because, even though there are rough times with this job, the highs are always so much higher than the lows. She’s absolutely right, you know. She always is.

But hang on a minute… how has Windmill proprietor Big Sooz learned of these outstanding times? Surely the stories of my lower-league career haven’t reached this tiny corner of the world? I ask her how she could possibly have known, in such great detail, what happened with that Barcelona result, down to the look in Louis van Gaal’s eyes as he left the ground at half time out of sheer embarrassment. That’s the sort of thing you could only have known if you were… there…

Big Sooz slowly reaches up, ties her hair back into a ponytail, and removes her glasses.

My god.

It’s Susan. My old personal assistant. She was here all along, disguised as someone who fed me alcohol, listened to me when I was spiralling, and secretly did my washing. I never would have seen it coming.

SUSAN!! I yelp, and leap into her arms. She holds me for as long as is comfortable, maybe a second and a half, before putting me down and handing me a suggested schedule for a pre-season tour of Wales. God, I’ve missed her.

She explains she still has to be behind the bar most of the time, but in the meantime she’ll send her new line of artisan pies to the home dugout every weekend along with a backpack full of rum, while also looking after the room upstairs — I had wondered how the stains kept disappearing from the couch — and managing all my affairs as my part-time PA. I couldn’t be happier. God knows I’ve needed someone to look after me like I’m a small child with severe alcoholism, you know the type, and now Susan is here, plus the potential for a whole squadful of shiny new signings, things are seriously looking up.

And while we’re on the subject of new signings, I use my excitement to confirm several new deals.

By my count, once you add this little lot to the players I showed you earlier — all of whose contracts I’ve confirmed — I reckon I’ve got an entire squad of new players arriving this summer. I know, I know: you’re stunned.

I actually cancel a couple of pre-existing deals I’d agreed, since I realise I can still do that; we had a Latvian DMC coming in, he wasn’t that good, and it’s fair to say Steffen Freund is going to be the best defensive midfielder this division has ever seen. The knowledge that I can cancel already-agreed pre-contracts is what led me to just approve all of these deals — if I can bin them off at any time before July 1st, it means I can have all these in the bank but still keep looking for even better mercenaries once the free transfers start happening.

I’m excited, and especially about arguably our least glamorous signing from the names above, Joe Dolan from Millwall. He’s a proper hard man centre-back to slot in alongside the foppishness of Gérard de Nooijer; a bruiser and a dancer, the original odd couple. I absolutely can’t wait.

I also accept an offer of nothing from Rapid Bratislava for Jaroslav Timko, who had handed in a transfer request after I’d sent him back to Slovakia on a leave of absence. It’s such a shame for it to all end this way; he genuinely could have been a real hero to the Hornchurch Ultras. Instead, he’ll have to just take the lesser title of cult hero, or perhaps even just passing indulgence. His little lobs over flailing Conference South goalkeepers were things of beauty, and he so nearly dragged us to a cup final with his most impudent chip of all… but really, the love story turned sour behind the scenes long ago. It’s going to be a shame to see him go, but nothing more. The replacements we’ve got coming in will soon make us forget he was ever here.

I also take some time to assess the rest of my squad, transfer-listing Kevin Gaughan and, sadly, Luis Manuel. The ageing Spaniard has been a great servant for half a season, but with a year left on his contract and his attributes in severe decline, it’s probably better that he give way to the Joe Dolans of this world and go home to drink cañas by the touchline of a Catalonian third division side. I know I’d take that deal.

Bids immediately come in for both of them, and I’m amazed that Cheltenham, Aylesbury, Shrewsbury and Chester are all prepared to pay me £16,000 for Gaughan — as much as he was a stalwart for us early on, you can have him for that kind of money. I’m also quite surprised to see a number of League One and Two sides make bids of £0 for Luis, which gives me reason for pause. I figured some non-league Spanish clubs might want to take him home for a year before he retires, or give him a player/manager role. Am I making a mistake letting him go? Or should I, at least, be asking for some cash in return?

I reject all the bids to give myself some thinking time, but in other news, Timko accepts Rapid’s contract offer and he’ll be away the moment we tick into July. As I say, it’s a shame, but he leaves with about 50% best wishes, 40% dismissive head-shake, and 10% forlorn gaze.

At the same time, Kevin Gaughan accepts Cheltenham Town’s offer, and he departs with, quite honestly, all the best wishes from me. He really was a great defender for us in the first half of the season, and as his powers waned, I strengthened my back line, went to a four rather than a five, and he lost his place. With both promotion and the surprising amount of interest from foreign megastars in coming to play for me, big Kev ought to forge his career elsewhere. And he’s actually gone up to League Two by signing for the Robins, so good for him. Maybe we’ll catch each other again somewhere down the line.

René Higuita’s work permit gets turned down on appeal, which is no real surprise since I’ve learned that you can’t have any nice things in 2004/5, so just to make sure I have enough cover, I agree a deal for former Slovenia stalwart Marko Simeunovic. He’s nowhere near as good as the Colombian — who is? — but his experience and influence will do well in the squad. He’s also happy with £500 a week as a rotation player, so it’s firm handshakes all round. I also renegotiate for the king of the Scorpion Kick just in case it somehow sneaks through next time. We can but dream.

The next two weeks just sort of drift by. I sort out the full itinerary for our glamorous pre-season tour of Wales, which starts on July 2nd and will take in games against Aberystwyth, Ton Pentre, Ely Rangers and, of course, our good friends over at Total Network Solutions, who currently boast former Spurs defender Alton Thelwell in their ranks. I’ll be very keen to see if he can keep the shackles on Jorge Cadete.

Higuita’s work permit is denied yet again, so I go back once more, this time offering him the literal maximum amount of money I can. I think one of the ways around work permit rules is if someone is on a high enough salary, they automatically get one? As usual, I’m not sure. I’m just trying everything at this point.

However, we shouldn’t focus on people I’m struggling to get through the door — because there are plenty of people who are. Ladies and (let’s face it) Gentlemen, may I present you with most of your Hornchurch squad for 2005/06!

Look at that stunning range of nationalities, just the way I like it. The de Nooijer brothers are still to arrive, along with Richard Witschge and Ralph van Dooren; maybe there’s been a delay at Schiphol airport. Overall, though, this is all really exciting, and generally good news…

…but as usual, it’s not all good.

I was really made up to have signed Juan Ugarte, real-life Wrexham cult hero from around this time and a name I always remember from watching him tear the whole division a new one as a forlorn Brentford fan. Of all the players I’ve just signed, I can’t believe it’s him who’s immediately slathering me with Anelka vibes, but it’s safe to say that he’s been pencilled into my bad books for the time being.

Since we’ve passed over the first of July, a lot of youth players are released on free transfers. Most aren’t interested in joining us, including Adam Birchall which was a bit of a blow, but I do offer contracts to Sylvan Ebanks-Blake, Lewis Grabban, Kyle Nix (yay), Ramon Calliste, Matt Derbyshire and Benjamin Collett. I will do a full look at every country’s under-19s and under-21s shortly.

However, for now, we need to say our first goodbye.

Jerome Vareille’s signing was immediately overshadowed by my excitement over Timko, but now that he’s gone, I realise that he did make a pretty decent impression here in his half-season for us. Ten goals and four assists in 21 appearances, most of them from the bench, is a very respectable return. Sad to see him go, but our upgrades are undeniable. Bonne chance, Jerome.

It’s a very sad day, but the perfect tonic awaits us in Aberystwyth, as our traditional pre-season tour of Wales gets underway. Susan has hired a minibus to drive the lads who don’t fit on Limey, we grab our Dutch cohort from the airport on the way past, and when the dust settles in the away dressing room, I get to pull together the line-up of my dreams.

Well… the result isn’t what we want, I’ll give you that, but there are some very good signs. The biggest positive by far is Steffen Freund, an impenetrable wall of a man in DMC, while the de Nooijer brothers also acquit themselves well and José Taira hasn’t lost a step in centre-mid, still easily our best creative player. Juan Ugarte comes on, gets a goal, an assist, and then a booking for shoving an Aber player to the ground off the ball — it’s going to be a fun season with him. The main negative I have is that Aber have four shots on target and three of them go in, all good finishes don’t get me wrong, but man… can I please just have René Higuita? Please?

I should also point out that my players are devastatingly unfit. The Aber squad were all around 90% going into this one, whereas I had far more players with the orange “oh god I’ve forgotten how to run” marker next to their name than not. We still had double the chances, double the shots on target, and were basically all over our opponents for the entire game. The scoreline is rubbish, but we weren’t. That’s what friendlies are all about.

There’s time between games for us to send our best wishes to some other departing favourites.

Ah, Ancil. The laughs we’ve had together, eh? As a player he was never particularly good, although I definitely recall at least one of the goals he scored being a filthy banger from the edge of the box. 6.70 average rating from the season, he played more games than he missed, but really, it was all about the comedy. The dressing room prankster, office trickster, teamed up brilliantly with Pegger every step of the way, we’ll miss you, Ancil. Legend.

Young Windy did a remarkable job of leading the line for far longer than his attributes would have had you think he could. The arrival of Jorge Cadete not only put paid to his starting spot, but also really showed up how often he missed the target; regardless, 17 goals and 10 assists in 40 appearances is a fabulous return for a guy whose main quality was being large. God speed, young Andrew.

Righto. Let’s get onto the rest of our pre-season tour. Ton Pentre are in the firing line, half my players can barely walk, let’s do em.

It’s… the same. Our hosts have two shots on target, they both go in, we then dominate the entire remainder of the game but can’t beat their keeper more than once. Can I continue to find ways to draw positives? I am slightly scared.

I let Jorge take control of our next friendly, which we promptly win 3–0. Two of the goals were penalties, but even still, the signs are much better. I also notice that he plays a 4–4–2, the boomer.

I then note that Luis Manuel is unhappy because I flirted with the idea of selling him earlier in the summer. I attempt to drum up some money from the market, but everyone simply tells me they’re only prepared to pay zero — so despite him being another half-season wonder, his £1,200 per week wage would be better off my spiralling bill than on it. I accept all bids, he’s most tempted by Lincoln City, and he goes with our blessing. Adios, amigo.

I’m also rejected by most of the released youth players I tried to sign, but I do manage to agree “hot prospect” terms for former loanee Nathan D’Laryea, who heads to my threadbare reserve team as a backup. I then let Jorge take over our final friendly in Wales against TNS, which we lose 2–0. To be fair, TNS are pretty good, so it’s no real surprise, but man — this hasn’t been the tour I expected.

It’s a quiet ride home on Limey. I thought we’d be the Harlem Globetrotters, but instead we’ve been more like a lower-league English football club that’s just signed 14 players with a manager who has no idea how to organise them. We did make ten chances, but couldn’t put any of them on target, and as is now traditional, both of TNS’s shots on target have gone in. I think my assumed first choice keeper, Jorge Silva, might end up riding the bench more often than he was hoping once the season starts proper…

Episode 19 coming soon!

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