Journeyman (7 page)

I was only sitting next to him and I was petrified, so I can't imagine how Glenn felt!

After fleetingly being top of the League a couple of times during the season, we eventually tailed off and finished seventh on sixty-four points. I made forty-five appearances, including thirty-seven starts – a big improvement on the previous year, although I only scored five goals.

Due to the fact we had released so many experienced players, there was a subdued vibe among supporters in anticipation of the following season, but I was optimistic and could not wait for the start of 2000/01.

A
FTER JUST TWO
years away from the professional game I had been given a second opportunity to be a full-time footballer and I was determined to make the most of it. Terry Skiverton, Dean Chandler, Dave Piper, Adrian Foster, Warren Patmore, Glenn Poole, Tony Pennock and myself had been retained from the previous season and we were joined in pre-season training by a mixture of young players from the reserve team and some trialists.

We had a young, vibrant team but I can honestly say I did not have a clue how we would do during the 2000/01 season. It was very much a journey into the unknown.

On the first day of pre-season training the management took us over to a rather large hill called Nine Springs, which was located next to the dry ski slope in Yeovil. We just ran and ran and ran until a few players were physically sick. The highlight of the day was when Paul Steele, one of the
new players, was found lying under a tree exhausted, claiming he could not do any more.

That was a sign of things to come. Without a doubt it was the hardest pre-season training camp I was ever part of during my career and my days quickly became a routine of train, eat, sleep, repeat.

Our training base was at RAF Yeovilton, which, unfortunately for us, had a running track around it. We did double training sessions every day and would spend most afternoons doing some sort of athletic work on that track. I guess the manager, having such a young team and only just converting to full-time football, wanted us to be the fittest team in the League.

It was not all hard work though. As part of pre-season we went down to Plymouth for a few days to play a couple of games and do some team bonding. We played a game on the Friday and were then given free rein in the evening. The gaffer was not staying at the hotel so there was no curfew, although Steve Thompson told us not to get back in too late. I’m not sure what he made of bumping into a returning James Bent, who was just getting into the lift to go to his room when Steve came down for breakfast at 8 a.m.!

It was a heavy night but a great way for everyone to get to know each other in more relaxed circumstances. The after-effects of the night out took me more than a couple of days to recover from so, thankfully, I was ruled out of the game on Sunday as ‘injured’.

Pre-season was going well personally, though. I was playing in all the important friendlies and it seemed I was going to be a player the manager would rely on. During a break between one of our double training sessions David pulled me into his office and asked me how I felt things were going.

I told him I had always felt like a peripheral player but was now ready to be one of his main men. To my surprise he agreed: he said he wanted to build his team around me. I was to be the playmaker and take all the free kicks, corners and penalties. This was a great piece of man management and I left his office feeling 10 ft tall.

Pre-season could not have gone better and I couldn’t wait for the first game of the season. I was, without doubt, in the best physical shape of my short career.

The curtain-raiser for the 2000/01 season was against Kettering at home. It did not quite go according to plan initially as I managed to have a penalty saved and Roy O’Brien (a debutant and one of my former Arsenal colleagues) got sent off – all in the first ten minutes! What pleased me though was, unlike in previous seasons, I did not let my penalty miss affect my performance and I went on to play an important part in our 2–0 victory.

The season continued encouragingly as we beat Woking away 3–2, after being 2–0 down. I managed to score the winner with a dipping volley from just outside the box.

At this time however I’m not sure which was more exciting – my social life or my football career.

Almost everyone in the team was either in their late teens or early twenties and single. After the majority of games, be it a Saturday or Tuesday, we would meet up for a night out. This helped bring a great sense of spirit and camaraderie to the team and, in my opinion, definitely contributed to our success. Playing away at Woking on a Tuesday night held no difference to us; we rushed straight back to Yeovil and caught the last couple of hours in ‘Gardens’, our favourite midweek haunt.

People in rural outposts such as Yeovil do not get to see many celebrities, other than the odd nightclub appearance from luminaries such as Paul Danan (of
Hollyoaks
fame) or ex-
EastEnders
man Dean Gaffney. As a result, and it felt strange, we used to be looked on as minor local celebrities.

Now I know as well as you do that myself and my fellow lower-league footballing friends were absolutely nothing special but it did not stop us suddenly getting a lot more opportunities on a night out with the opposite sex than maybe we should have been used to. Suffice to say I was now
enjoying the fruits of my labour both on and off the pitch – our formerly untainted rented accommodation was now becoming quite the opposite!

The early season optimism was tempered slightly by a 3–0 spanking in our third game of the season at Haig Avenue against Southport – never a happy hunting ground for me. The result was compounded by the fact I managed to strain a medial ligament in my knee, which ruled me out of the next game.

Any feeling that the wheels were falling off was removed by the fact we bounced straight back and won our next four games. Even more pleasing for me was, even though I lost my place for one game through injury, the manager was desperate to get me fit and put me straight back in the side. No manager had ever been so eager for me to play and it made me feel great.

What I really liked about David Webb was that he simplified the game. Training took the same pattern most days: a warm-up and then some sort of possession or small-sided game mixed in with some organisational work when we got closer to a match day. Even though the pattern of the sessions was repetitive, they were never boring. In fact, I’m not sure I’d ever enjoyed training so much. It wasn’t anything revolutionary, but the difference was in the intensity. The manager didn’t let anyone slack off, irrespective of how well we were playing.

He made it clear what your job was as an individual and did not ask any player to do something they were not capable of. My job in his team as a central midfielder was to go from box to box: when we had the ball I had to always be available to receive a pass; when we were out of possession I had to compete with my opposite number to win it back. I also had to take all the set plays.

No grey areas.

If you were not doing what he asked of you, he told you what he thought in no uncertain terms. I got my first real taste of that treatment after a sloppy performance at home against Chester in early September.
We won 2–1 but I had not put in one of my best displays and had generally been guilty of wasting possession. In injury time I had tried to keep the ball in the opposition’s corner to try to wind the clock down. Unfortunately they’d managed to nick the ball off me, break up the other end and hit the crossbar. We’d got away with it but the gaffer was not happy. In the dressing room after the game he began to have a go at me. I raised my hand, acknowledged that it was my fault and apologised, but, in his very matter-of-fact way, he said: ‘Don’t fucking apologise, just don’t fucking do it again!’ That may not seem like much, but the way he delivered it was enough to focus my mind and ensure I raised my level of performance.

After that game we were top of the League, which was quite a sight considering the low expectations held at the start of the season.

A spanking away to Boston United aside, we continued our excellent form until the club was hit by a big blow at the end of September.

We’d laboured to a 3–2 victory at home to Morecambe and had been working with the manager long enough to know that he would not be happy. We were expecting a rocket – except the rocket never materialised. Instead the manager told us how proud he was of all of us but he was resigning with immediate effect.

The silence was deafening.

I, for one, was devastated. My career finally looked like it was going somewhere, but the man making it happen was leaving.

It transpired that Southend United, where the manager was a legend after taking them to what is now the Championship in a previous spell, wanted to give him an opportunity to manage back in the Football League. To me it did not seem like that much of a forward step as we were arguably in better shape at the time, but David had made his mind up. He left us in a great position – second in the League and only two points behind big-spending Rushden & Diamonds – but that was not much of a consolation. I am still convinced that if he had stayed we would have won the title.

The manager leaving had no effect on us on initially. Steve Thompson took his default position as caretaker manager and we continued with the same form. We spanked Dover Athletic 4–0 at home (a game in which I scored) and then grabbed a good point away against a strong Hereford United team at Edgar Street.

The rumour mill had identified our new manager correctly and everything was confirmed after the Hereford game, where he had been watching in the stands.

Colin Addison strode into the club with the attitude and look of someone a lot younger than his sixty years. His style was a lot different to David Webb’s – he was a lot more laid-back – but I instantly liked him. Being the experienced and intelligent football man he was, Colin quickly identified that very little needed changing and he ensured that we continued as we had done.

His match-day style was very different to the previous manager’s as well. David Webb was very detached before a game, saying nothing about the opposition and just letting us get on with it. Colin, on the other hand, was very thorough. I guessed this was from his European background as he had previously managed both Celta Vigo and Atlético Madrid.

Before our first game under his stewardship, away to Northwich Victoria, we had a lengthy meeting to discuss the strengths of the opposition. I finished the meeting a nervous wreck – Colin had talked one of their players up so much I thought he was Zinedine Zidane! Turned out I needn’t have worried because we won 2–1 and I scored our equaliser with an acrobatic volley.

During the early part of Colin’s reign there was plenty of speculation in the local press that David Webb wanted to sign a host of Yeovil players. The morning after that Northwich win I was in bed nursing my customary post-game hangover and scanning the papers when I had a phone call from Mr Webb. He politely enquired how I was doing and then said he was interested in signing up six Yeovil players. I was one of them.

I was really flattered. Only six months earlier he hadn’t been sure whether or not to offer me a contract and now he was willing to pay money for me. I told him I would definitely consider it and he said he would be in touch. I’m guessing he got short shrift from Yeovil, though, as that was the last I heard of it.

Despite this distraction, both the team and my own impressive form continued. It seemed I was finally achieving the level of consistency I had been lacking in my career to date.

We suffered a slight hiccup by needing a replay to dispose of Horsham in the FA Cup after a stuttering draw at home in the first game, but other than that everything was going swimmingly.

Our first big test came at the start of November when we played our big rivals Rushden & Diamonds away. We won the game 2–1 in front of over 5,000 fans, the ever-reliable Warren Patmore giving us the lead before Darren Way calmly converted a penalty with five minutes to go (Darren had assumed penalty-taking duties from me after I had fluffed my lines in the first game against Kettering). This result sent out a message to every team in the League that Yeovil were serious title contenders. The result put us four points clear at the top with a game in hand.

We then faced Colchester United at home. This was a great draw as far as I was concerned because I had been born and brought up just fifteen minutes from our opponents. Before the game Colin had decided to take us down to Bournemouth for a team bonding exercise. Translated, it meant we went on a three-day piss-up – not something recommended by the modern-day sports scientists, although it was a great trip. As I alluded to earlier we had a brilliant team spirit where everyone socialised together. Normally you get a few players who do not like socialising with the group but not in this team. Everyone got on like a house on fire. I have been a part of some really strong groups and this compared favourably to any of them.

But, despite not really needing it, Colin was brilliant at pulling everyone
together and, even at his age was in the thick of the action. I would not say I came back from that trip refreshed but it definitely had the desired effect.

Not only did we beat Colchester, we thrashed them out of sight 5–1. As you would expect, with a result like that, the whole team was in imperious form. Warren and Barrington Belgrave ran them ragged up front, Darren Way and I dominated the midfield and Skivo marshalled the back line expertly. A new, tougher tackling style led to me ending ex-Ipswich Town man Jason Dozzell’s participation in the game early – although fairly, I should add – and the scoreline flattered Colchester if anything. I was delighted with my own performance as I assisted three of the goals.

My form was starting to attract some attention and I got called up for trial games used to select players for the England non-League team (England C as it is currently known). Warren had played in it a few times and I was keen to get at least one cap. Every time he came back from a trip I questioned him about it, asking him everything from what the other England players were like to the standard of the opposition. Unfortunately for me, my game got cancelled and was never rearranged – that was the closest I ever got to a call-up.