Roy of the Rovers – A New Beginning

Week 3

Two weeks of tough pre-season training had passed and the Rovers were ready for their first pre-season match. A Melchester Rovers XI, featuring a handful of first-teamers, youth players and three triallists were to take on Non-League Yelcomb, while that evening Vernon Eliot’s first match as manager would be a headline friendly against Alkhoven, the Dutch champions. Vernon had asked Roy Race to coach the XI versus Yelcomb; in his role as Director of Development he would judge those on trial and report back on the progress of the young players.

In Yelcomb for the one o’clock kick-off, Roy sat his players down in the basic away dressing room. This would be his first team talk for over ten years and for some reason unknown to him, Roy Race was nervous. “Okay lads! I’ll keep this short; you all know your roles. We’ve gone through everything in training this week. Keep it simple and stick to the plans. I’m not going to be making big changes, you need to assume that you’re playing ninety minutes. It’s hot out there and Yelcomb are a big, physical side. Use your skill, keep the ball moving and move them around the pitch. The game will get easier as they tire and your fitness levels show. Go out and enjoy yourselves, show me what you can do. Who knows, any one of you could be in the first-team come 17th August. Show me you’re ready!”

Richie Lyons, who was disappointed to be in Yelcomb and not at Mel Park, was captain, “Come on boys! We’re playing for Roy Race today! That’s enough on its own to make us up our game! Come on Rovers!”

The players bustled out through the door, along the narrow tunnel and onto the pitch. They went through their normal last-minute warm-up drills, before the referee blew his whistle to call the captains for the toss. A crowd of around twelve hundred had gathered in the small ground. Yelcomb Stadium had seen better days, but some of its old charm still shone through. Roy remembered an F.A. Cup match in the late seventies; Rovers had been the victims of a giant-killing, beaten by Fourth Division Yelcomb. The main stand was the same, but the neat terracing behind each goal had been replaced with ugly blue plastic temporary seating. Roy bemoaned the decision of the Football Association and the Football League to insist on the removal of terraces. They were not unsafe, it was the hooligans on them that caused harm and distress: if only the F.A. had shown the same desire and strength that Melchester Rovers had in getting rid of the thugs.

Roy believed that the cost in redesigning grounds had damaged lower division teams, by placing unnecessary financial penalties upon them, forcing ticket prices up. While a family-friendly atmosphere is nice, football is a working man’s game and the working man has been somewhat alienated from modern football. “There’s no way this club should be out of the league! It’s a massive shame,” said Roy as he shook hands with the Yelcomb boss, “Well, having Rovers here, will help a little. We’re not expecting any more than six hundred for our first league match. Times are hard down here!”

The match kicked-off and the young Rovers set about testing the Yelcomb players’ desire to chase and close down. Lyons was wearing the captain’s armband and playing in the number nine role. He was really trying to impress the great man on the sidelines. Shouting, encouraging and instructing, that was what Roy wanted a captain and a front man to do. He was impressed, but leadership was only half the pint, the other was quality football.

Roy made changes, bringing off two triallists who had not made any impression and replacing them with youth players. But the pattern of the match did not change, very few of the players seemed fit enough to produce any quality football.

The Director of Development breathed a sigh of relief when the referee ended proceedings. His Rovers XI had won one-nil, thanks to Richie Lyons’ ‘Rocket,’ but Roy had learnt very little about any of the young players who would make up his U-21 side. Lyons had played really well and looked sharp, but there was no way he would not be involved with the senior side this season. Roy needed a new leader, the rest of the Development Squad lacked direction and focus. He must fix this soon or his promise to bring players into the first-team this season would be very hard to achieve.

***

Trevor Brinsden and David Roth welcomed their counterparts from Alkhoven, “Come this way gentlemen, take a seat. What would you like to drink?” Blackie Gray, who was employed as club ambassador was the host to important visitors and sponsors. He took the drinks order and sped off to the bar. “That is Blackie Gray isn’t it?” enquired one of Alkhoven board members, “Yes, what a player he was! I must get an autograph.”

“I don’t like all this jolly chat, Dave. I’m gonna take a stroll round the ground, talk to my people, the fans of Melchester Rovers.” Brinsden downed his white wine and placed the empty glass on the sideboard, before taking off his tie and heading downstairs. The match was sold-out, 55,000 fans were streaming through the electronic turnstiles and onto the concourses. “That’s the chairman, dad! Mr Brinsden, are we going to sign some players soon?” a young fan raced over, “That’s up to the manager, son. You’ll have to ask him.” More fans spotted Trevor, all with a variety of questions, but most wanted to know about transfers. He thought it was clear that Melchester Rovers had no money to spend, but the fans just did not care. They wanted big money signings and seemed angry and disappointed with his answers, “We are building a team from bottom-up. The youth side will develop and produce players for the seniors, like it always used to.” One angry fan got to Brinsden, “That John Lucas in the Gazette is right, we’re going down. We need to spend big, get new players in now!”

Trevor made his excuses and hurried back to the Executive Lounge. The fans now owned the club, but he and David Roth were in charge. They had put up the bulk of the investment, they were elected by the Rovers members, they were no longer the average fans they were last season. “These fans are nuts, Dave! They don’t get it! We can’t ‘splash the cash’. We’re still paying for players signed two years ago! One of them even quoted Lucas at me. We’ve got to prove that journo wrong! We have to silence the critics!”

***

In the home dressing room, Vernon Eliot was preparing to give his first pre-match team-talk as manager of Melchester Rovers. His assistant, Gerry Holloway, had given a short but accurate appraisal of Alkhoven’s strengths and weaknesses. It was now Vernon’s turn to remind his players of their tactics. “Right, we’ve been through everything this week. You all know what is expected. This is not just a fitness exercise. We have to set the right tone for the rest of the campaign. We move that ball around, we get it wide quickly, we take on defenders, we make Alkhoven commit in areas that they are uncomfortable. Above all we play the Melchester way and we make Alkhoven suffer!”

“Let’s go lads! We are the Rovers!” Jake Cheetham, pulled on the armband, and charged into the tunnel area - the bell had rung, and he was ready for action.

The half-time whistle could not come fast enough for Rovers. They were being hammered and Vernon needed to talk with his players. They were not following instructions. While it was only the first match of pre-season, it was vitally important to play well. There had been so many changes at Melchester, from top-to-bottom, that a positive start was essential to keep the critics quiet.

Dissenting voices were few at the moment but if Alkhoven were to thrash them, it would not be long before fans and the media lost faith.

The players settled onto the benches in the dressing-room, “Right, that’s not good enough! Basic instructions were to keep the ball moving and get it wide quickly. Our wingers have barely touched the ball! No subs, you lot have to do it right!”

Gerry took over, to give the analytical view, “We’re closing down in the wrong areas, wasting energy. Remember what we worked on this week. Only press hard when there’s a chance to win the ball. Remember to do the count; if there’s only one pass on, then you press!” Gerry glared at Powell and Batty, who were the worst offenders. They were trying too hard to impress, they were pressing too high and leaving space in the midfield behind them. Alkhoven were exploiting this by feeding their Number 10, De Graaf, who was creating chance after chance for the front three.

“Nick, you are to shadow De Graaf; man-mark him. Stay tight, forget about joining any of our attacks. If we gain control and manage to keep possession, then you will be released. But for now, you stay close to him!” That was the only change Vernon made, he was not too unhappy, after all it was only the first match of the season.

The players made their way back out onto the Mel Park pitch. Vernon hung back to have a private word with Gerry, “That wasn’t too bad really! I was expecting far worse. Alkhoven are a good side and a lot further into pre-season than us. They play a Champions League qualifier next week, don’t they?” Gerry agreed, “Yep! We’re looking pretty good. Fitness is about right, it will be interesting to match the work-rates and power outputs to the PEP model. I’ll make sure that Jim Davis has it programmed for the morning and I’ll have it evaluated for Monday’s sessions.”

Gerry drifted ahead, leaving Vernon in the dressing room. It had changed a lot since they were players over thirty years ago. He and Gerry were a unique team. The time they spent out of the game during the 90s had allowed them to fully embrace the technical side of football. Vernon thought that English managers and coaches were limited by the growth of the Premier League. With the revolution in football television coverage and the influence of Sky Sports, many of the top clubs were too focused on winning, at all costs. Training and development at all levels, even from under-11s was so centred on physical dominance that English players just could not keep the ball. They could run and run but not pass. The coaches at the top clubs never travelled overseas, they never embraced “foreign” ideas. He and Gerry did and they were light years ahead of managers like Ralph Gordon, who had managed Melchester in the early 90s. Gordon still had a top job; he was manager of Carford City, who Rovers would play on 17th August, in the first league match of the season.

Vernon, was day dreaming, the teams must be ready to kick-off the second half. He took a long look around the dressing-room and tried to picture his old team-mates. There was Charlie Carter, the silver-haired goalkeeper, Noel Baxter, one of the original wing-backs, who tragically died in Basran. He was a true servant of Melchester and a phenomenal player. Duncan McKay would always be the loudest, a dominant defender, wearing his trademark blue headband. Lofty Peak and Blackie Gray were two long-serving superstars, both internationals. The maverick and versatile Jimmy Slade, another who perished in Basran, would be playing pranks, laughing and joking. In midfield was Geoff Giles, the original box-to-box all-rounder, a true great. Mervyn Wallace, who had only recently retired from the coaching staff, was another who would walk into any team in the world. The remaining three were back; Vernon Eliot the tricky winger from the West Indies, Gerry Holloway the intelligent midfield creator and Roy Race, ‘The King.’ These eleven men made up the greatest club

side England had ever seen. It was now Vernon’s job, with help from Gerry and Roy, to put Rovers back where they belong, starting now.

Storky Knight

Check back next week for Part 3 – Carford City, the first league match of the season…