Journeyman (19 page)

We were now in the third automatic promotion place. At the start of the season, just reaching the play-offs would’ve been a great achievement,
but, at this point, anything less than automatic promotion would be a disappointment. Easter was coming up and we knew a good points haul would put us in a commanding position, although we suffered a blow as we were unable to extend Sherjill’s loan.

We suffered a wobble when we sacrificed a two-goal lead at home to Chester City to draw 2–2, which left GT fuming. As with any poor result, we had a post-match debrief that involved going into the board room and watching all our mistakes in super-slow motion. This was especially painful for someone like me, who was slow in real time let alone in any other. GT was especially scathing about our lack of professionalism in the second goal we conceded. He felt we should’ve been smarter in closing the game out. The ball had gone out for a goal kick to Chester with one minute left and Toumani threw the ball back to their keeper, who duly launched it up the pitch. The gaffer told us in slightly more industrial language that the ball should have been in the Meadow End.

The gaffer did make us all laugh as well, however, when he told us that Simon Johnson had been overtaken by the referee when attempting to track back. In Simon’s defence he was running up the Edgar Street hill!

We now entered a ridiculously hard run of fixtures: Darlington away, MK Dons away and Peterborough at home. The latter two were above us at that point and Darlington were hot on our heels.

We arrived at Darlington’s impressive new ground and I commented that the huge TV screen in the corner – much like the ones you see at Premier League stadiums – probably cost more to maintain than the whole of Edgar Street. The ground was worthy of the top leagues in Europe so it seemed a strange decision for a club marooned in the basement of English football. Clearly the club had not learnt from its previous overindulgences and periods of financial turmoil.

The game itself had a strange atmosphere. It was a big game for both teams but, even though 4,331 fans were watching (a good crowd by Darlington’s
standards), they did not have much of an impact when spread across a 25,000-seater stadium. The game was, as I’d expected, a tense affair. The team that scored first was probably going to win and that turned out to be the case.

Midway through the second half Simon Johnson fed to Gary Hooper, who, after having his first shot blocked, coolly rounded the keeper, put a defender on his backside and then just rolled the ball into the net…

What a cool bastard!

We were all buzzing after that win but knew we had two massive games to come. I’d never been so desperate to get promoted. We’d pretty much taken Darlington out of the equation but Stockport had beaten Peterborough away to become our main rival.

We went to Stadium mk full of confidence and promptly got absolutely battered, although we somehow managed to hold out for a 0–0 draw. It was not a good performance, especially from an attacking perspective, but we earned a valuable point.

The final game of the trilogy was at home to Peterborough United but we got well beaten. It hurt to see them celebrating their own promotion on our pitch but the gaffer and John used it as motivation, saying we could be doing it ourselves in a couple of weeks.

We had three very winnable games lined up to clinch promotion; three victories would guarantee it.

The first game was a derby of sorts against Wrexham – a club on the verge of relegation. After a couple of early scares, we took charge of the match and eased to a comfortable victory.

Two wins to go, then – but we were also aware we could clinch promotion in our next game away to Brentford if other results also went our way.

Normally when travelling the day before an away game, we’d stop off en route and use another club’s training ground or find somewhere suitable at the hotel or nearby. This was because most of the players didn’t live in
Hereford so it wasn’t feasible for everyone to travel to Hereford on a Friday morning before heading to the game.

There was usually a park near our hotel where we conducted a light training session, however, on this occasion, our hotel was right in the middle of west London so there wasn’t any green space available. This led to a surreal experience of preparing for the biggest game of our season by training in a car park. The ‘session’ was regularly interrupted by office staff, from the company whose car park we had commandeered, knocking off for the weekend.

It is quite a funny memory in hindsight, but I remember a few of us not being particularly impressed at the time. The management had emphasised all week the need for us to be professional when preparing for the game and then that happened.

While Hereford didn’t have a huge home support, fans always travelled in big numbers for away games and were typically vociferous – never more so than on this occasion. They filled up a stand behind one of the goals, and in the dressing room there was a great vibe between the players as we knew we were on the verge of getting the rewards for all our hard work.

Hoops, as usual, delivered the goods and got us an early goal. Theo missed a penalty but immediately redeemed himself by adding a second goal. Simon Johnson added a tap-in.

Our supporters started celebrating as if we had scored midway through the second half as it was also becoming apparent that Stockport were losing at Barnet. If the results stayed that way then we were promoted.

And they did.

What a feeling! Hereford, a club that had only a handful of players at the start of pre-season and had been tipped for relegation, had upset all the odds and won automatic promotion from League Two. When I joined the club the first time, they had nearly got relegated from the Conference, but now we were in League One, competing against the likes of Leicester City and Leeds United.

The combination of results had caught us out because we had all genuinely expected the promotion race to boil down to the last game of the season. A lot of the boys were from the south and had arranged to stay in the area after the final game so, instead of celebrating after the game we’d just played, we all went our separate ways. We still had time for the customary ‘sneak up and soak the manager with a bucket of water’ moment, though – the look on GT’s face was priceless.

Even though it was job done, we still had one more game to play. We beat Grimsby Town at Edgar Street so made up for the muted celebrations of the previous week by partying after the game and enjoying an open-top bus ride and civic reception on the Sunday. I was a bit wary of the bus ride as I didn’t believe many people would show, but there was an excellent turnout, particularly outside the town hall.

Surprisingly, considering our success, not one of our players made it into the annual PFA ‘Team of the Year’ even though we had some really consistent performers; Wayne Brown was as good a keeper as any in the League and I thought centre back Dean Beckwith had been superb. He defended brilliantly and was very good with the ball at his feet, something that was important considering the way we played. I also felt my midfield partnership with Toumani was comparable to any other combination in the League, although individually we may not have been as good as some of our peers.

Clint Easton had given us great balance on the left of midfield with his game intelligence and clever use of the ball. He was a man after my own heart, making up for what he lacked in physical qualities by being a couple of seconds ahead of everyone else in his head. Nobody could get near him in the small sided games in training other than on Monday mornings when he was the stiffest man in the world – he was typically still recovering from Saturday’s game and any post-match exertions!

At different stages during the season I believe we had the best player in
the League as well. Lionel was superb before he was sold to Watford and Gary Hooper was the main reason we got over the line during the run-in.

Hoops’ goals were important but the thing that differentiated him from other centre forwards was his movement, defenders at our level could not cope with it. Gary was definitely the best outfield player I ever played with and his career trajectory has not surprised me in the slightest. He fully deserves it as well – Gary was very humble, never got carried away with his success and worked very hard.

As frustrating as he could be to play with at times Theo Robinson had also had an excellent season. For a young man to make the kind of impact he did in his first proper season of senior football was impressive. His direct running and hard work without the ball caused teams a lot of problems. I have seen him play a few times in the ensuing years and he looks to have improved both his general hold-up play and finishing too.

I think the fact none of us made it into the PFA selection was down to the fact Hereford was such an unfashionable club and so probably did not get the recognition it deserved.

I did well out of the season financially. Winning promotion triggered a clause in my contract that entitled me to a payment of £5,000 and my basic wage was set to increase from £1,200 to £1,400 a week. We picked up additional win bonuses throughout the season and, on top of that, players shared a pot of £60,000 between us, which was divided pro rata based on how many games we’d played. I ended up getting around £5,000 from that pot.

As an extra reward, the club also paid for the whole squad to go to Ayia Napa, Cyprus for a week. All accommodation was paid for and we were given some spending money.

The trip didn’t quite go according to plan, however. We were booked into a nice all-inclusive hotel but I knew, almost as soon as we arrived, that it was unlikely we would make it through the whole week.

Our group of twenty excited young men checked in at around 11 p.m.
and quickly got ready to hit the town. We were buzzing around, borrowing each other’s hair straighteners and gel – you know, all the usual things a group of young men do (OK, maybe that was just me then!).

Straight away a lady came out of her room complaining in some foreign language about the noise. I remember thinking
blimey, she is not happy – and she hasn’t seen anything yet.

During the first couple of days, we got up to the normal shenanigans: coming in at all hours of the morning, slamming doors and generally being a bit boisterous. Then goalkeeper Ryan Esson managed to be sick in the hotel reception. All the lads began panicking after hotel management informed them they were being ejected, but since my name and room number weren’t linked to any complaints I felt secure I wouldn’t be thrown out of the hotel.

I discovered my confidence was slightly misplaced when I, along with the rest of the team, was wheeling my suitcase around Ayia Napa an hour later looking for new accommodation!

Luckily Simon Johnson had frequented a local establishment during a previous visit to Cyprus that was more suited to our basic needs of a toilet, bed and bar. Unfortunately it was not all-inclusive, but my rather large bonuses cushioned any financial blow.

Writing this now I realise how lucky we were to receive fully paid club holidays, but at the time those sorts of trips seemed to be the norm – something we deserved.

I’d always been told to strike when the iron was hot so, upon my return from Cyprus, I thought I would ask for an extension on my contract. I still had a year left but it didn’t feel unreasonable to ask for an extra year.

I rang up Joan Fennessy, who was club secretary and part owner, to ask for a meeting with GT. She told him while I was on the phone and I heard him shouting in the background ‘if it’s about a new contract he shouldn’t bother’.

I can only guess I wasn’t the only person who’d had that idea. However,
for me, that summer was the first time in my career I felt like I was getting somewhere – like I was on the cusp of actually being a ‘proper’ footballer.

I certainly holidayed like one! As well as the Cyprus trip, Emma and I had a week in Zante and two weeks across Orlando and New York. I worked really hard to maintain my fitness too, knowing a huge challenge awaited me when I returned.

I’m not sure how, but I’m close to completing a whole year at the school. There have been plenty of disastrous lessons but I finally feel like I’m getting the hang of it all – ironic really, because I’ve managed to secure myself a new job.

Remember the job I mentioned at Braintree Town? Well, I got it and I start in September. I will be tutoring sport every morning for two hours and then coaching football every afternoon.

I am delighted as it means I can continue my obsession with football. I want to make sure I never get myself in a position where I’m standing in front of a class attempting to teach ICT again.

I’ve also decided to play for Thurrock for another season. None of the jobs coaching in professional academies came to fruition so I’m going to continue playing with a view to working in an academy next season.

Things are never simple at Thurrock, however. After struggling all season and only securing our place in the Ryman Premier League three days before the end of the season, we have been retrospectively relegated. A guy called Joel Barnett played four games for us in August, one of which we won. It subsequently turned out he was banned from football, but that didn’t show up when the club and local FA registered him – indeed it didn’t come to light until well into the season.

So the club had three points deducted – enough to see us swap places with Carshalton Athletic and end up in the relegation zone. Thurrock appealed but the appeal was thrown out, so they have now begun the process of appealing to the European Court of Arbitration for Sport. This could have huge ramifications as none of the Ryman Premier or Division One North/South leagues will be allowed to start until the appeal has been heard. It could take up to 102 days.

This may seem an extreme course of action but for Tommy South, Thurrock’s owner, it is a matter of principle. From what he’s told me, the FA have a very flimsy case. It’s been alleged someone at the FA made a mistake and Thurrock have been made the scapegoat for it.