Back to the Foot-Ture: E10

Well its fair to say that we’ve hit the ground running.

Other than defeat to Celtic via a red card and tactical ineptitude its all positive down in Ayrshire. It would be foolish of me to think that we would challenge at the top, but I certainly think that we can make the top 6 and ideally get something European on the go. Given how our last campaign ended, I am eager to draw someone Welsh and set about them with something leek shaped.

As the transfer deadline draws near, I finalise deals to send Liam Donnelly to Gillingham and Stevie Lawless to Accrington. They both say that their departures are down to fall-outs with me, which saddens me as I actually bear them no ill will. They will forever be entrenched in our promotion lore. Or they would be if I didn’t immediately order their names to be removed from all records at the club. They will not be welcomed back. Ever.

Euan Murray goes on a free to newly promoted Brechin — and I wave him goodbye whilst on the phone to 3 different agents at once. I implore them to tell their clients to accept my fucking trial offers so that I can then rinse 75% of their wage demands and find a way to sign them. All the agents give me relatively muted negativity — or at least that’s what it seems like — as they all appear to be getting massaged in the same Thai parlour.

I have to hastily withdraw a trial bid for a goalkeeper and submit a very speculative contract offer with an eye-watering signing on fee when Milwall get involved. As the deadline expires, I switch my phone off and throw tomatoes at a cardboard cutout of Craig Levein whilst listening to the horrendous music of Snow Patrol. Its what the dull bastard would want. All of our free agent deals fall through…but now its out of window I rub my hands with glee at the prospect of lowballing every single one of them.

After an international break of rejection and watching Aapo Halme try and repel Scotland in a 4–0 defeat for Finland at Hampden, we rock up to face Motherwell at Rugby Park. Rejection from Andrey Lunin (Sociedad) and Cyle Larin (Canadian) have annoyed me significantly, but other than Palaversa we have a fully fit squad to choose from. Melker comes in for Lewis and Daniel Sinani gets a spot on the bench, with Enzo taking his spot up front in place of the exciting but frustratingly non-finishing Dembele.

The first half is a pretty dull affair. Enzo looks lively and has a couple of shots and bang on half-time Scotty Fraser hits the bar. It’s still not great though and I push the wingers up for the second half, telling Sinani to get ready. I also realise that I forgot to swap Melker and Lewis so I do it on the 45 minute mark- as Ferguson has been about as effective as a pair of fishnets are for warmth in Aberdeen.

Robbo comes off for Sinani on the hour and I move Charly Musonda to the centre of the park, and follow this by bringing on Byers for Big Kev and telling the boys to get it done in the last 20 minutes. Crivelli has another effort but we are thwarted by a Motherwell side that makes the management style of John Beck look like Tiki-Taka. A point it is.

I tell Graham Alexander what I think of his style as I shake his hand and this escalates into a 25 man brawl which carries on down the tunnel and into the post-match buffet. I throw 14 brown bread rolls at him to demonstrate what facing his attack was like and at this point he leaves. Good. Motherwell are the new Hamilton in my book.

Following this we face a tricky looking game against Aberdeen. Despite the fact that most of their squad had handed in transfer requests in the summer or were mysteriously very available, there is no doubt that they are strong. Well at least I think that til I see that they spunked 120k on David Goodwillie in the summer. In better news, I agree a deal with a young right-sided player for January and another for a central midfielder, along with a trial for the biggest ego seen this side of Charles Green.

I’m never signing him in a million years as he’s about as mobile as a fridge and wants to be my top earner, but our two weeks with him will be invaluable for our strikers to learn. Mostly how to fucking score a goal.

Pittodrie is our destination and the night before we spend some time down the amusements, getting on the coins and generally winding up any home supporters that spot us. Malaly wins a giant teddy bear and I assume his celebration at that will be something close to his goal celebration when he eventually scores. He remains on the bench as we DEFINITELY change Melker for Lewis for this game, and Ante makes his debut in place of Big Kev, who sits next to me in the dugout.

Kenny Dougall roams forwards early doors and slips a ball into the left channel for Charly to run onto and hit first time, his effort narrowly drifting wide of the far post. We don’t need to wait long for an opener though as another ball in by Charly is deflected past his own keeper by Nathan Byrne. Well if your strikers can’t score, just get the opposition to. And a minute later its two as lovely, lovely Melker strides onto a loose ball in the usual fashion and batters it home.

Tom Glover makes a smart save from Ramirez and we have further shots denied by a combination of woodwork, ineptitude and Lee fucking Grant in the home goal. We should make it 3 on half-time from ‘Mr 45 Minutes’ Scotty Fraser — but his effort from a Crivelli cutback goes agonisingly wide.

Aberdeen have more of the ball in the second half and we bring on Sinani and Kongolo for some fresh legs and ideas just after the hour. This steadies the tide a little and the Luxembourger has a shot wide which would seal it, but the Sheep-vil empire striker back through Thompson 10 minutes from the end. The last 10 minutes takes an eternity, but its relatively trouble free and we close out an excellent 2–1 away win.

I notice with interest on the Sunday that John Terry’s Hearts get gubbed 6–1 by Celtic. I list one of my reserves for £10m and wait for the inevitible bite. Whilst this doesn’t come, what does is a League Cup tie on the Wednesday against Dundee, which sees Grant in for Halme and Sinani for Musonda. And hopefully, some fucking goals.

FINALLY!

Robbo and Crivelli both get goals and Ante Palaversa looks like a young Zvonimir Boban in midfield. Not that he ever had to come up against Charlie Adam and Paul McGowan…It’s dicey at 2–1 til we get an equaliser and Byrne gets sent off. Palaversa scores just after the hour and we progress to the last 8.

3 days later and its exactly the same fixture. Dundee trek back to Rugby Park to face us in the league and it’s fair to say that Dundee boss Alan Stubbs is not happy about this. He gives me an absolute death stare on arrival and refuses to engage anyone, ever the security guard holding the door to the ground open for him, meaning that he lets go and Stubbsy goes crashing into a reinforced door in a howl of Scouse and Claret. What a start to the day!

Unfortunately Ante and Kenny are both struggling for fitness, so Rodney and Big Kev supplant them in the engine room. I bring Charly back in for Daniel Sinani and Aapo back as well. It’s a very strong unit.

Having opened his account, Enzo takes no time in adding to it with a great run and cool finish in the 15th minute after a slighty iffy start from us. Annoyingly, Shaun Byrne equalises 3 minutes later, with Ashley pissing Young instrumental. However Enzo is not to be outdone, and another great pass from Big Kev finds him just before half-time to give us a 2–1 lead at the break.

We nearly extend our lead through Musonda, only for the flag of doom to be raised for a mythical offside. Rory Mckenzie (Club legend — Fucking Turncoat) starts to cause us problems so I bring on Ante and Dembele for Scotty and Kongolo. They’ve also got Shane Long and Jose Fonte in the lineup and I turn round to ask a bloodied Stubbs if he’s running a retirement home for the terminally average. He pretends he doesn’t hear me but I know he does.

10 minutes from the end, we finally get the ball and Ferguson spreads the play wide to Big Kev, who is inexplicably on the right wing. He looks up and curls in a pearler to a leaping Crivelli….GOAL! 3–1. GET IT RIGHT FUCKING UP YE!

They actually win the shot count 9–6, but Harry Sharp in the Dundee goal has a performance akin to Tommy Wiseau. I hand Enzo the match ball and give the boys a pat on the back. Other than Big Kev who is down receiving oxygen after a sensational 3 assist performance. A real club legend.

Annoyingly, I miss out on signing Sam Greenwood from Leeds, who is extremely highly rated. He agrees to join the Land of Sheep and Oil for £1.6 million which I am incredibly pissed off about until I remember how immaculately chiselled Enzo is. The man is a god. We do manage to convince Aapo to a new deal on the same wage but removing his ludicrously low release clause I neglected when signing him. He is an absolute model of consistency — gets more 7s than a clapped out blackjack player. Jay does the same and says he believes I can help his career flourish. I review his performances so far and it’s fair to say I’ve neglected how poor he has been so far and resolve to drop him to celebrate him signing on the dotted line. MANAGEMENT!

We welcome the 24 Hour Pasta People to Rugby Park next, and its the grizzled face of Neil Harris that gets out off the bus to greet me. He headbutts me and slashes my cheekbone with a hidden razor, and we laugh. Milwall eh. They;ve had a decent start to the season and their transfer policy of signing Scottish players is a lot more in keeping with reality than Stubbsy’s home for the criminally over-appreciated. Peter Grant comes in and we rotate the engine room as we look to continue our good form.

Its an even first half but we are far more clinical than the profligate penne pricks, with Enzo opening the scoring and Robbo finally getting a league goal in the 32nd minute. Mr 45 Scotty Fraser ruins his reputation by scoring midway through the second half and we even have the luxury of Robbo missing a penalty in the second half as we score a well-deserved 3–0 win, with another Malaly Dembele cameo full of action and missed sitters. For a man with 20 decision making, his composure is true zero.

Curiously, despite the fact we’ve played 9 games in a 12 team league, we have the joys of another game against Dundee United after the international break — delaying our much anticipated clashes against League leaders Rangers and John Terry’s Hedge Fund. Aapo gets a niggle with Finland and is ruled out, So Jay comes back in after his celebratory dropping and Peter Grant shifts to central defence. I decide to give Daniel Sinani a run in place of Scotty Fraser as well after he starts in a surprise 2–0 win for Luxembourg over Austria, and shift Scotty left in place of Charly.

Enzo has the ball in the back of the net in the 4th minute but yet again, we are being refereed by a man with severe sight difficulties who flags him offside despite being at least 2 yards onside and too handsome for the rules. There’s no flag when he puts it in 10 minutes later when a loose ball falls to him inside the box and he smashes it past Siegrist. And our follow up is a belter, as a free kick on the edge of the D is sent arching beyond Siegrist into the top corner by Scotty. Dundee United do the phrase “being at sixes and sevens” a disservice,and there’s 8s, 12s and 19s being thrown about with their level of disorganisation.

The second half starts strongly, and a marauding Jay gets brought down in the box giving Robbo mere formalities in making it 3–0. This does sting the previously inept United into action, and star man Ilmari Niskanen sets up Clark to pull a goal back then Harkes…but Tom Glover makes an excellent save.

I bring on Malaly and George for a bit of chaos and they nearly deliver when Dembele’s 14th shot of the season without a goal is tipped wide. No problems though, as 5 minutes from the end Jay rises majestically like a salmon to nod home our 4th from George’s corner and in the final minute Malaly gets a long punt out of defence, outpaces Mulgrew, dummies McMann and shoots low beyond Siegrist before sprinting off like he;s won the World Cup, Grand National and Deal or No Deal all at once. 5–1!

As I sit in my office in the wee hours of the morning, still buzzing from the performance, I survey the day’s action with interest. Malky “Defo No Racist” McKay’s mob are rock bottom after a heavy loss and Ange Postocoglou seems to be on a very shoogly peg as they get dunted 4–0 by Mr Charisma’s funtime XI. And remarkably (granted Rangers have a game in hand)…

We are top…