Roy of the Rovers – Total Football

Part 6

* * *

Johan Seegrun was fuming, four Premier League games and still no goals. The away dressing room was silent, apart from the clicking of studs, until the Dutchman stormed in. “No way is that good enough! You are not working hard enough; Powell, Cheetham, if you will not track back, then you will not play! Simple!” Drew Powell was amazed, he twitched alarmingly as he heard his manager’s direct attack on his performance. Jake Cheetham squeezed his friend’s knee, as if to remind the fiery Welshman to keep his mouth shut. While Powell kept his emotions in check, Richie Lyons had flipped, “What the heck was that!” he yelled, flinging his boots into the tiled walls, “Are you lot ever gonna give me the ball? I’ve had about two shots all season. Just pass me the chuffin’ thing!”

“Sit down Lyons!” the manager ordered. The striker ignored, tore off his kit and barged his way into the showers. Powell and Harry Jacobs did the same. Seegrun was stunned, he had intended to begin his analysis then and there, as was his routine. The players knew this, Nathan Daniels and the two Dutch signings were sitting patiently, waiting for their manager to begin. Cheetham, the captain, who had been substituted again stood, “I’ll get them in here, boss.”

“No! If they cannot follow instructions then they will not play. Total Football does not work unless the team is willing to work for the system and work for each other. We will do the review now and those players who do not take part will not be in the side against Rotherton next week.”

Seegun always kept his post-match analysis short, which was why he insisted on addressing his players as soon as they were all gathered in the dressing room. It was an unusual practice and one that most of the Melchester Rovers players were still adjusting too. But Seegun is a disciplinarian and everyone in that match-day squad was aware of the expectations and that there would certainly be repercussions for ignoring protocol.

“I will start again. The weakness today was obvious, in Total Football, there should be no gaps, each man must work extra hard to slot into any space his team-mate leaves. Today, that did not happen enough. The space between the centre-backs and the wing-backs was too great. Burgess, you must slide across when Piedra attacks and trust that the other two centre-backs will split and cover you. We do this in training very well. Luik, you do this well, that is why all the goals, they came through the right of our defence. I have already decided, Burgess, you will not play next week.”

Mike Burgess, the sensitive Irish defender, looked distraught. He was tough on the pitch, but was the definition of a ‘confidence player.’ Jake Cheetham knew instantly that it would be some time before Mike was back in the first-team. In one minute Johan Seegrun, one of football’s greatest thinkers had destroyed his confidence. It was another example of the poor man-management skills of one of the most decorated managers in the game. Roy Race would have tried to lift the team, Seegrun seemed intent on breaking their spirit first. Cheetham thought, this style might work in Holland where Johan was a legend, but at Rovers only time would tell, it was not working now. But the captain of Melchester Rovers was on the verge of resigning, he had been shamed in public again, only his loyalty to the club was preventing him from speaking up. Training on Monday would be the acid test, if there was open rebellion, Jake would have to be the unifying force. But if things had settled down, which would only occur if the dissenting players apologised, then he would ask the manager to hand the armband to someone else.

Right now Jake needed strong advice and only one man could offer that. So in the privacy of his room at the Marine Hotel on Kingsbay’s seafront, the current captain of Melchester Rovers sat in deep discussion with the most legendary captain of them all, Roy Race. “I knew Johan would stir things up, but I never thought he was so authoritarian!” Roy’s old friend had a very different management style to the player full of skill and flair that had dominated European football in the 70s. “I think you’re right though, Jake. Being captain of Melchester Rovers is the biggest honour,

under captaining England, in our game; it will be tough giving it up. But if you have no confidence in your leader and his tactics, then you are not going to be a very good captain. My concern is that Seegrun will make Danny Luik skipper and that would be so wrong. You earned that armband, as did those before you, Steve Daley, Nobby Wootten, Terry Spring, even Johnny Dexter. Those men had proven themselves as leaders over hundreds of appearances for our club.”

Jake saw no other contender, “What about Nathan Daniels, he’s a Rovers man through and through?” Roy shook his head, “No, Johan would never make a goalie captain. Total Football has to have a leader at its heart. He models the system on his Alkhoven side from 1978, you are the Seegrun of 2015. That’s why he took you off, because you could never be as effective as Johan was in that team. No-one could!”

“Not even you?” Jake asked politely, “No way! Johan was a better player than me then. Over the years perhaps he was not as consistent, but in 1978 he was by far the best player in the world! In fact, Jake, that gives me an idea. Pass me the remote, we should watch that European Cup Final together, see if we can learn a bit more about Johan’s masterplan!”

“Just as Kingsbay did today, I planned to attack with width, get into the space between the wing-back and the centre-back. It worked early on. We went all-out-attack to combat the passing game of the Dutch. Vernon got in behind on their left and crossed, hard and low, I flicked it on, to Jimmy Slade who arrived late in the box, as planned. He scored a great goal!”

Roy continued with his own commentary, “But Alkhoven fought back immediately. Johan powered through the middle. I expected their passing to be slow, but it was anything but. They shifted

possession so quickly, everyone comfortable on the ball. Your assistant manager scored the equaliser, Johan sold us a dummy.”

“They were the Blackie and Racey of Dutch football, weren’t they Roy?” Jake had watched plenty of clips of the pair on the internet, “I suppose so, but they were trickier than us. Valker wasn’t as powerful as Blackie and Johan played a lot deeper than me. I reckon the Jake and Drew partnership is a better comparison! That’s it!” Roy exclaimed excitedly, “To make Total Football work at Melchester Rovers, you’ve got to get Drew to match up to Valker!” Jake was excited too, “And I’ve got to be Johan Seegrun. That’s some task, Roy, only five minutes ago, you said that even you couldn’t match up to him!”

“Ah! But the 1978 versions of Alkhoven and Melchester Rovers would absolutely destroy any team of today! The Premier League of 2015/16 is a poor imitation of the First Division of the late 70s. Back then we were more physical, better technically and better tactically. We had more motivation, more pride in the shirt we wore and the fans we were representing! The only edge today’s players have is in fitness, but fitness is soon lost chasing the ball around the park!”

Jake was sceptical, but Roy Race knew more about football than anyone, if he believed the footballers of the late 70s to be superior to those of today, then they probably were. “Anyway let’s continue with one of the greatest matches of all time! Alkhoven had found our weakness; we were playing to them, trying to change our natural game to suit. I’d asked Slade and Giles to push up, that meant they had to do a lot of running. Unfortunately, the Dutch passed us off the park!

“Their internationals, Seegrun, Valker, Roff and Keppel were the key to the system. All able to interchange positions, all able to pass and shoot and tackle, and run, by heck could they run! Valker, in a way like Blackie with me, seemed to sense where Seegrun was. It was his cross that gave Johan

to chance to put his side ahead. It was a peach of a first-time shot. Charlie Carter didn’t stand a chance. But ‘The Cat’ would keep us in touch with a string of fine saves. Alkhoven were all over us!

“So, at half-time, I changed tactics; I ditched the all-out-attack and went for a more patient style. We sat back and let Alkhoven play, it worked, we soaked up the pressure. Then when the time was right, we explode from the back, speed and power, the Rovers way. Geoff Giles nearly scored, denied by a great save, but I buried the rebound. If it wasn’t for bad luck we’d have taken the lead. Mervyn Wallace blocked a certain goal. I’m convinced we’d have gone on to win had my shot gone in!”

Jake was so appreciative of Roy’s willingness to help him out during this difficult time, and the great man’s reflections on his past glories, or near misses, were always a welcome distraction. But this session, the analysis of Total Football, was of even greater significance to the young Rovers captain. “So, Roy, I know we lost and that Johan got the winner. But what did you learn about Total Football?” Roy took a deep breath, “I tell you what, Total Football is a phenomenal system, so difficult to play against. But it is a philosophy, almost a religion, you have to grow up with it, trust in its leaders. Johan is the high-priest of Total Football, he tolerates non-believers, but he does not understand their lack of faith. Jake, you can play in the system and the system will work in the Premier League. Right now you have to give yourself over to Total Football!”

“But I have my football religion already, the ‘Rovers Way’, your way, how can I throw away that?” Roy did not usually like to think too hard about the philosophical side of the game, but as Johan Seegrun did, he had to right now, “Last season I dumped the Rovers way, if I can do it then so can you!

“There’s Johan’s winner it looked spectacular, didn’t it? But look carefully at the replay, you can see the ball take a wicked deflection off Noel Baxter. Even the greats need luck!”

* * *

Paco, the owner of the only bar in Salares, brought John Rogers his beer, “Tapito?” he asked, the Englishman nodded, taking a swig from the glass. The last few weeks had been superb, his mind was rested, the weather spectacular and he had not heard an English voice. John lit a cigarette, as Paco placed a small ceramic dish of carne con tomate on the table in front of him and returned inside. The Spanish lifestyle was beginning to suit John Rogers, the sunshine, the beer, the food, it was all wonderful. Perhaps he would not return to England, nothing he left behind had been resolved. A move back would only bring strife and the risk of a lengthy prison sentence. He closed his eyes and leant back in the plastic chair, letting the midday sun warm his face.

Then, as if waiting for that exact moment, a figure pulled a chair alongside, “Hello John, how’s it going?” he whispered. “Nice set up you’ve got here, chuffing hard to find too!” Beads of sweat ran down Rogers’ face, his hands shaking he lit another cigarette. “Bleeding heck, Geoff, what are you doing here? How did you find me?” The average looking gentleman, in his mid-forties, smiled, “You’re not quite as hidden as you’d think, that internet is really useful you know! Is it safe to talk here?” John said that it was and listened intently to Geoff Miles P.I. explain how he found him. “It wasn’t that hard, you were bound to search for yourself on in the internet, obvious, no? You know that website you check at least three times a week, sometimes four or five times a day?” Rogers could not believe that he had been so stupid, not disguising his IP address was a rookie mistake. “Well, it’s my site, I set it up to find you. Using Google Analytics, like any webmaster does, I checked the locations of my regular visitors. You know where my most regular visitor lives, don’t you?”

John stood up, dismayed, Miles continued, “And here I am. Don’t worry the police wouldn’t have even thought of using such a tactic, they don’t know you. But I do and I also know what else you did, about a month ago, on that road I drove in on this morning.” Miles laughed, “You must have checked

my site a thousand times the next day!” John had finished his beer, “How about another couple? We’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Miles suggested. So John raised his hand coyly, caught Paco’s eye and signalled for two more beers. He would be more than interested in what Geoff Miles, the private investigator had to tell him.

“So, John Rogers, hey, how’s life in Spain? I thought you were going to the Caribbean when it went pear-shaped.” Rogers told his story, “I went a bit nuts and did something daft, I stopped taking my pills and went after him. If any of the cleaners had found him, the police would obviously have wanted to talk to the owner of the firm, me. I wasn’t careful, forensics would’ve had me. Guilty! I went to Kingsbay, paid a Mulvarian lorry driver to hide me and get me on board the boat to San Marco. So Spain and the Costa del Crime it was. Everyone in Monbella loved the old footballer, they must’ve known I’d done something dodgy, but they loved that too, it’s like a secret society, Geoff!”

John went on to describe how much he was enjoying Spain, “I don’t think I need to go back now. I love it here!” Miles laughed, “Listen chum, what if I was to tell you that you’ve no need to hide, that you’re in the clear, that you’re not wanted, not on any list, would that change your mind?” Rogers could not believe what he was hearing, “It’s true; I knew you’d go off the rails, so I was following you. I found the bloke first, cleaned up the scene, he wasn’t dead, just a bit battered. That money you gave me for emergencies, I paid him off, sent him on a flight home as soon as his wounds had healed. He told the doctors that he was a junkie, he and his pals did stupid things when they were stoned. They bought it, he’s gone.”

That made sense, he had found nothing relating to the crime online. “What about the journo, what’s happening with him?” Miles laughed again, “That must be the only thing you’ve not looked up! He’s in the nick, part of the phone hacking scandal at the Gazette. He’ll never write again, all the big-wigs at Inter-News went down. The new lot haven’t a clue, without the old dodgy techniques they’re stuck with Celebrity Big Brother exclusives!”

The pair finished off their beers, paid and walked slowly up the hill to John’s house. Miles scanned the village as they walked, there was nothing alarming. “So you used the folder then?” Geoff asked, “I’ve seen your living room, very nice, the Eastgate shirt on the wall, it looks great!” As they approached, the three cats appeared, mewing for their afternoon meals. Miles looked at Rogers expecting an introduction, “Blackie, Racey and Tubby; meet Geoff Miles!” The private detective shook his head, “Not very Eastgate names are they? A bit too Melchester Rovers for an Eastgate legend!”

“So are you going to come home with me?” Miles asked waving a printed boarding pass in the air. “You know what? I think I will, but first I need to tie up a few loose ends here. Some people out here have been good to me, I have to pay them back. I love it here and I want to be welcome back any time. With my record, I’m bound to stuff up again, sooner or later I’ll do something daft and there’s nowhere I’d rather spend the rest of my days! Viva Salares! Viva John Rogers!”

Storky Knight

NEXT – Mutiny at Mel Park?