Strikers Instinct
Page 33
The back pages of the papers tried to deal with the multi-million pound game between Bolton and Wishton but obvious the QGNews story had a big effect in that area too. Several pundits speculated that the whole upheaval may have a detrimental effect on Wishton – but others say that it may have the opposite effect – Wishton and Luke Linden had been cleared so it should be a weight off their shoulders.
A lot of the stories continued inside the newspapers – mainly concerning themselves with Basil Jeffers. Basil was probably the biggest loser in the whole affair. In addition to the slanderous comments thrown at the Linden family, the bank statement had shown that Jeffers had been paid to lie in public by QGNews. Jeffers complained that either his bank account had been hacked or someone had illegally leaked the account information but no-one cared – the proof had been produced for all to see and no-one was really interested in where it came from. To make matters worse, a few of the more eagle-eyed members of the press had noticed some other payments on Basil Jeffers leaked statement. It seemed that he was receiving payments from all sorts of companies that he hadn’t revealed to the government or the taxman. Jeffers had gone into hiding – he was a broken man. Everyone expected a resignation in the very near future.
Luke’s thoughts were gradually interrupted by other players who were starting to appear from the restaurant. Most were in high spirits but one or two, Rae amongst them, seemed in more contemplative mood.
“Morning Rae,” said Luke cheerfully, “sleep well?”
“Not really.” Rae admitted. “I think the occasion has finally got to me.”
“Rubbish.” Luke snorted. “It’s just another game. Have you had any breakfast?”
Rae shook his head. “Couldn’t eat a thing.” he said mournfully.
“Come on,” said Luke as he rose from the table, “I can’t have my daughter’s favourite player having a bad game because he didn’t eat his breakfast!”
Rae grinned and reluctantly followed Luke back into the restaurant. Sandy had been watching and smiled to Craig.
“Luke knows how to handle people – it’s a rare gift.”
“I hope he’s still smiling tonight!” said Craig.
“I think that’s what I admire most about him.” Sandy replied. “Because it won’t matter if we win or lose – Luke will still be smiling tonight. He’s seen a lot in his life and he knows that when we strip away all the rubbish – at the end of the day it really is only a game, despite what Bill Shankly said!”
Craig thought that Sandy had lost his mind but decided to keep his thoughts to himself.
“Give them another 15 minutes Craig and then have a warm-up – a few laps of the hotel grounds. Then we need to get ready for the coach.” Sandy instructed.
Soon the players were ready to get on the coach – all dressed in smart, matching club suits. Insults flew thick and fast.
“Did they have to get an expandable waist for those trousers Nobby?” some wag shouted from the back of the coach.
“No but I was told that they had to find some slip-on shoes for you because you still can’t tie your laces!” Nobby retorted.
Sandy was happy to hear the banter. It seemed that the team was in good spirits. They may just pull this off after all! As they got closer to the ground they were amazed how many people from Lancashire were thronging the streets. Both clubs had been given 40,000 tickets for the game and both clubs had completely sold out. There had been an article on the news that morning that some joker had put a banner on the M6 motorway, just before the Thelwall Viaduct.
“Good luck to Wishton Clough and Bolton Wanderers – will the last one to leave please make sure that the door is locked!”
This was a jokey reference to the fact that both towns would be deserted. Those who couldn’t get a ticket would be watching the game on TV. Some people had started travelling down to London a couple of days before the game but the vast majority had left in a mass exodus on the morning of the game. They had already been rewarding with sunny conditions but everyone knew that only half of them would be returning home happy.
The Wishton players arrived at the national stadium and were immediately taken out to have a look at the pitch. Both teams had actually been allowed to train on the pitch for an hour each – at separate times – on the previous day but the atmosphere seemed totally different today. As they walked around the ground, Luke took the opportunity to speak with Sandy.
“Listen boss,” he began “I don’t know if you are planning to name me in the squad or not today but if possible I don’t want to play.”
Sandy stood back in shock. “What the hell do you mean?”
“I keep saying that I don’t want to turn this into a circus – for you and the team,” said Luke, “and today would be a great time to prove that this team doesn’t need me in order to win this game.”
Sandy thought for a moment. “There’s some merit in what you say son,” he agreed, “but there’s also another way of looking at it. If we don’t name you in the squad then QGNews and Basil Jeffers have won – they have robbed you of the biggest day in your life. And then there’s also another matter to consider.”
Luke waited for Sandy to continue.
“This team needs you Luke.” he said simply. “You’ve all been through too much together this year – they want you with them. Even if you are only sat upon the bench it helps the team. So this is what I’m going to do. I’m naming you as one of the substitutes but if we can get comfortably in front then I’ll keep you on the bench. Is that fair?”
Luke nodded and the two men shook hands. Luke had taken Harry’s news about being in the placebo group in his stride. There was nothing he could do about the situation – if he had to play then he would simply give 100% and hope for the best.
All too soon the players were getting changed for the game and for some the nerves began to bite. Luke, as always sat in silent contemplation – to all around him he seemed an oasis of calm in a desert of nerves. As the players were making their final preparations, Andy called a halt to all conversation.
“Lads, quiet for a minute,” he shouted, “I just wanted to tell you all before we go out there how proud I am of you and I expect to be even prouder in a couple of hours when we win.”
The players began to cheer but Andy again asked for quiet.
“I know this is unusual – I know we have different faiths and creeds here today – and I also know that some of you don’t actually follow any religion but I want to ask someone to lead us in a prayer before we go out. Luke – would you do the honours please.”
Luke was very surprised but as usual his face gave nothing away. He rose.
“We live in a troubled world but we are all lucky enough to have food to eat each day and a roof over our heads at night. For a few hours today we can help people in Wishton – and beyond – forget their problems. We are the fortunate few. I pray that we play with honesty and dignity, with pride and strength. I pray that we play like men.”
For a few seconds there was a hushed silence throughout the room then the place erupted in a guttural roar that could be heard in the Bolton changing room. Sandy had tears in his eyes as he turned to the team and said simply.
“I have nothing further to add. Captain – lead your team out.”
CHAPTER 55
The players walked out of the tunnel and into a sea of noise that few, if any of them would ever face again in their lifetime. Almost 90,000 people screaming, chanting, and singing – the stadium awash with banners and the colours of both teams. The starting eleven of both teams were presented to the Guest of Honour and then the crowd prepared for the first of the two communal offerings. First up was the FA Cup Final Hymn – Abide With Me. This seemed to have been adopted also for the Championship play-off final as well and as the band of the Coldstream Guards began to play – the crowd began to stir. Almost 90,000 northern voices raised in unison.
“Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lo
rd, with me abide;
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.”
Luke felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise – looking around the touchline he could see grown men with tears in their eyes as the powerful words resonated around the stadium. Then it was time for the National Anthem which was respectfully observed but perhaps not as powerfully sung as the previous hymn. The referee called the two captains together and then – within seconds – the biggest game in world domestic football was underway. The winners could expect a multi-million pound windfall, the losers, well they would just be forgotten.
The first half ebbed and flowed with neither side getting on top. Wishton probably had the better chances but Rae had put both of his efforts wide and Luke was hoping that the youngster wasn’t letting his nerves get the better of him. It seemed they had only been playing for a few minutes when the referee blew the whistle for half-time and the players ran down the tunnel towards the changing rooms.
Sandy was waiting to address his team.
“Not bad lads, not bad.” he began. “I think we’ve taken all they can throw at us so that’s a good sign. However, we need to start creating more chances – and when we get those chances we need to start taking them. Now I’m not just looking at Rae here – he’s doing as good a job as anyone but he needs support. You attacking midfield players need to move forward and shoot whenever you get the chance.”
Sandy finished his pep talk and wandered among the players, offering individual words of comfort. Luke took the opportunity to talk to Rae.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
“A bit better now.” Rae grinned. “I was a touch nervous to start with but it’s not as bad now.”
Luke laughed. “Not as bad? You shouldn’t be looking at it that way. You need to enjoy this – hopefully it’s the first of many big games for you but you can’t take that for granted – it could also be the last big game you play in! You need to focus!”
Rae nodded. Luke continued.
“Plus – there’s an even bigger reason that you need to score!”
“What’s that?” Rae asked anxiously.
“If you don’t score the gaffer has said that I may have to come on and help – and there’s no way I want to have to stand in front of that crowd – they’re all mad!” Luke pretended to shake, “I want to stay on the bench where it’s nice and safe!”
Rae laughed heartily and Luke hoped that the tension had been broken. Within seconds the referee’s assistant was calling them back outside for the second half.
“Good luck son.” Luke smiled.
“Thanks.” Rae whispered.
The second half seemed to start with a bit more urgency from Wishton – it seemed that Sandy’s comments had sunk in. Slowly they began to increase pressure until they seemed to be virtually camped in the Wanderers half. Finally the pressure told and Rae rounded off a great move with a fantastic volley that gave the goalkeeper no chance. It seemed that would be the turning point and Wishton continued to press forward for another goal. Sandy began to worry – they were in total control but they only had a slim lead and he knew that anything could still happen.
Unfortunately his worries came back to haunt him. Bolton were now smashing the ball anywhere to relieve the pressure and once again their beleaguered defence hoofed a speculative ball high into the air toward the Wishton goal. Andy and his defensive partner were covering the Bolton centre forward and both Andy and the Wishton goalkeeper left the ball to Jez. He jumped high with the centre forward, won the ball and then both players fell to a heap on the ground. Andy cleared the loose ball as both players were rising – then the referee blew his whistle. Andy threw the ball back to the goalkeeper – assuming that the referee had given a soft free kick to Wishton. He was amazed to see the referee pointing to the spot – he had awarded a penalty kick against Jez. Then things got even worse – the referee adjudged Jez to be the last line of defence so he produced a red card and ordered Jez off the pitch!
Jez was distraught – almost in tears as he trudged from the pitch – he hadn’t touched the other player! This was just like the Fulham game all over again! Sandy put a comforting arm around him and then turned to shout and curse towards the referee. On the pitch Andy led a chorus of appeals to the referee – how could that have been a penalty? No-one else on the ground had spotted a thing. The Wishton fans were enraged and the Bolton fans were ecstatic – they couldn’t believe their luck.
The referee’s attention was drawn to the touchline where a furious Sandy was arguing with the fourth official. The referee raced across the pitch – straight into a torrent of abuse from a very upset Wishton manager. The official listened for only a few seconds before he had heard enough. He produced another red card and ordered Sandy to be removed to the stands!
It took another few minutes before things calmed down enough that the Bolton player could place the ball on the penalty spot. 90,000 held their breath as he strode up to the ball – seconds later the ball nestled in the corner of the net and the Bolton half of the ground was celebrating in style.
Sandy relayed messages from the stand to the Wishton bench and he urged the team to hold on for a few more minutes until the end of the game. If the score remained 1-1 then there would be two periods of 15 minutes of extra time. Andy marshalled his forces and despite a spirited response from Bolton the score remained 1-1 after 90 minutes.
The players remained on the pitch – they were allowed just a couple of minutes to have a drink and change ends. Sandy wasn’t allowed back out onto the pitch so Craig had to relay his messages. Sandy had taken the decision to take off a midfield player and to bring on Luke alongside Andy in the heart of defence. As the game had slipped into the last couple of minutes, Luke had rushed into the tunnel to speak with Sandy.
“You’ve got to go on lad.” he said. “It’s more for a calming influence than anything – I need you to help Andy. We have to stop them scoring again and then we have a chance with penalties.”
If the game was still a draw after a further 30 minutes then both sides would take five penalties to decide the winner.
“Don’t worry boss,” Luke had replied, “leave it with me!”
As the players prepared for the first period of extra time, the Wishton substitution was made and Luke ran to take his place at the side of Andy in the centre of the defence. His appearance seemed to lift the fans who in turn did their best to raise their team. Chants of “Lucky, Lucky Linden” boomed around the ground. Luke pushed the noise out of his mind as he tried to concentrate on the next 30 minutes.
The first half was like a chess game – Bolton had superior numbers and prodded and poked at the Wishton defence. Andy marshalled his forces superbly and Rae worked like a Trojan running up and downfield to help relieve pressure. Half time arrived and the score was still 1-1. Most people on the ground were mentally preparing for the penalties. The second fifteen minute period seemed to be going the same way as the first half – Bolton were on top but couldn’t pry open the Wishton defence. Finally, with only five minutes remaining, Bolton managed to win a corner – it looked like this could be the last chance for either team to achieve an outright win. The ball was crossed into the box and the Wishton supporters breathed a sigh of relief as the keeper punched the ball to comparative safety – most of the players surged out of the box but for some reason Luke stayed on the goal line. The ball dropped to a Bolton player standing fully 35 yards away from goal – he suddenly hit the ball as sweetly as anyone had hit it all day. The ball flew like an arrow past the goalkeeper towards the Wishton goal and the Bolton fans were already rising to their feet as a tall figure threw himself across the goal. Luke headed the ball clear with inches to spare and even some of the Bolton fans applauded his amazing effort. The ball went out of play for a Bolton throw-in but no-one hurried to take it – that had been the big chance of the game and now everyone seemed resigned to penalties.
Finally the referee called the players forward to explain how the penalties would be taken. He then called out the first name.
“Linden”
Luke strode forward, whistling and smiling. Players from both sides were amazed. He made the long walk from the centre circle to the goal waving to the fans as if he hadn’t got a care in the world. In the stand Sue watched nervously – she knew that Luke was trying to bolster his team mates and if he managed to score then his gamble would have worked – but if he missed…..
Sue had nothing to worry about. Luke placed the ball on the penalty spot, shared a quick joke with the referee, then coolly sent the goalkeeper the wrong way, placing the ball perfectly in the corner of the goal. It was as if he knew which way the goalkeeper was going to go. Luke turned in triumph and spent the long walk back to the centre circle waving his arms and encouraging the Wishton fans to keep shouting for their team. Back in the centre circle the players crowded around him and he spoke urgently .
“He’ll dive a different way each time,” he whispered urgently, “so whoever follows me needs to hit the ball to his right – trust me!”
Luke’s instructions were exactly right – each of the Wishton penalty-takers remained cool and hit the ball smoothly into the net. Unfortunately – so did the Bolton team. Their penalties had an element of luck – one hit the post and bounced in – but at the end of the day they all counted. During the fourth round of penalties the Wishton player stroked the ball into the net to make the score 4-3 with the Bolton player still to walk forward. A few seconds later it was the turn of the opposition but as soon as he kicked the ball, the Bolton player knew he hadn’t hit it hard enough and the Wishton goalkeeper sniffed a chance to be a hero – he flung himself full length but was a fraction slow. He managed to get one hand to the ball but couldn’t keep it out – instead he slammed into the goalpost with his outstretched hand.