Diamond Geezers, Episode 12: Our Cups Spilleth Over — The Quadruple Is On
Right, let’s get down to business. I’ve just about come back down from the cloud I was floating around on after the Fulham result, but CM01/02 waits for no man, and we have to make sure we don’t get distracted by famous cup victories and take our foot off the gas in the league. We’ve got two Division 3 games against Macclesfield and Bristol Rovers before we face three away cup fixtures in a row: Preston in the League Cup quarter final, QPR in the FA Cup second round, and then the mighty Brentford at Griffin Park in the first round of the Vans Trophy.
I’m prioritising the League Cup and FA Cup from now on because I feel my changed team is capable of keeping up the win ratio in Division 3. We’re eight points clear at the top and cruising, so I’ll play these two games quickly and spare you the details. Let’s hope we win them both and I don’t end up looking like an absolute knobhead. Here we go:
A routine win followed by a frankly wild game against Rovers, though the true story of it was that Hugo Pinheiro was appalling and let three shots on target all go in. Otherwise, we were dominant in both fixtures, and to be honest, the league looks like it’s in the bag.
The only downside was that Gentle Les picked up a booking against Macclesfield, which rules him out of the QPR game. It might be poetic for him not to have to bludgeon his old club, but poetry can get in the bin. He’s been our best player this season and we could really do with him. However, I have faith in CR7. We can get through this.
Right. First up in our trio of cup escapades is David Moyes’s Preston North End. Somehow having climbed to 7th in Division One, they are about as organised, efficient and charismatic as their manager. This is a team featuring hard-working and honest players like Jon Macken, David Healy and Sean Gregan. They are the footballing equivalent of the colour beige and it’s fair to say they’re not an exciting, cut-and-thrust team. But they’re about to come face to face with one.
Our only headache is that Mad Dog McKinlay is suspended, so Kah will step into DMC and Convery will partner Risp at centre-half. Having nothing to fear from their basic 4–4–2, I stick with my trusty tactics and arrange my strongest available team. We just need to keep our heads through this game, and we’re in the Semi Finals of the League Cup.
I don’t feel nerves any more. I’m ready. The players are ready. Deepdale lets out an almighty shrug. Let’s get exciting.
We set out a solid stall in the first half and match Preston in the early stages. However, they have the first couple of chances in the game and it makes me nervous. I edge around in my seat. My players notice and react accordingly. A few hundred miles away, my manager of the month awards gleam inside our Ikea trophy cabinet.
Møller flicks a ball outside to Pflipsen, who finds Ferdinand’s feet. Sir Les feeds the ball right to Kah, he fires a ball at Bubb, who flicks the ball out wide to Underwood on the left, he whips a first-time ball into the area — Pflipsen loses his man! 1–0 RUSHDEN! What a team goal! The home fans’ eyes are bleeding! They’ve never seen football quite like it!
It’s a fantastic start, but a David Moyes team won’t rest on their laurels — and ten minutes later, Preston score a classic equaliser. They pass the ball around in midfield, Jenkins plays it into the box, nobody really goes for it, it bobbles around, Sean Gregan staggers in and wallops the ball past Pinheiro for 1–1. That’s more like it, lads.
Karlheinz Pflipsen, personally affronted that his goal no longer separates the teams, sets about redressing the balance — and with 27 minutes on the clock, he collects a loose ball on the edge of the box (caused by Bubb running into Rankine and falling over — textbook) and rifles home a shot from 20 yards! It’s 2–1, and we lead once more! We share a few chances in the remainder of the half, mostly off-target, and we go in ahead at half time. We look good. I give each player an orange wedge (two for Pflipsen) and send them back out to finish the job.
The second half is played the Preston way: drab, boring, and seemingly going on forever. We hit a few more shots on target and David Lucas moves from a 5 to an 8, which upsets me enormously. However, Preston have been completely neutered by superb performances from Kah, Risp and Convery, who take their respective markers and pocket them for the rest of the half. They don’t manage a further shot on target, and the final whistle arrives! We’ve won again! We’re into the League Cup semi-finals!!
There’s huge news elsewhere as Wycombe Wanderers, 19th in Division 2, overcome Premier League Everton in their League Cup game. However, we won’t be playing them: the semi-final draw is made, and we have finally met our fate. We’ve got Manchester United or Liverpool, first leg away.
There’s no time to worry about which one of them we’ll need to beat though, because we’ve got to get to London to square up against QPR at Loftus Road in the second round of the FA Cup. I’m loathed to change a winning team, but we are a little tired, so I freshen some legs. Plummer comes in for Convery with his Former Club Bonus active (that’s not a real thing but I’m going to pretend) and Farnerud is in for Bubb. Pflipsen could do with a rest but he was emphatic against Preston so I leave him in to see which of his party tricks he pulls out this time — score a brace, or go off injured after ten minutes. Also, Les Ferdinand has to serve his suspension, so I plump for Ronaldo over Duane Darby to start.
Rangers also play a 4–4–2 and are second in Division 2, doing well in the league, but we’ve beaten better teams already this season. I am aware of the threat they pose in Andy Thomson and Leroy Griffiths up top, but in excellent news, they have some juicy injuries that will serve us very well. Star players Richard Langley and Clarke Carlisle are definitely out, as is highly endangered French forward Doudou.
As a Brentford fan, I do love seeing QPR lose, so I have double motivation here. Our yellow away kits are really starting to pong — I tell the players to mark tightly and keep their arms over their heads as much as possible.
We make a blistering start, Ronaldo tearing through the QPR back line from the very first whistle — and before we even reach 60 seconds, he spots a run from Farnerud, finds the young Swede in the box, and he fires home our first goal of the day. It’s 1–0 with just a minute gone!
On 15 minutes, things get even better. Ronaldo finds Mustafa wide on the right, and he swings in a near post cross that Møller pumps past Chris Day for two! We’re making mincemeat out of teams in higher divisions so regularly that it’s hardly even surprising when, in the second half, Underwood destroys the net with a free kick to put us 3–0 ahead. We even manage to survive a Ronaldo missed penalty and a late Griffiths consolation goal. Karl Connolly wins man of the match for them in what can only be a token gesture from whoever decides these things in 2001. My enemies are vanquished, the ship is steady, the players believe in themselves, and we are sweeping all before us. The only question now is, who’s going to stop us?
We’re handed yet another away draw in the third round of the FA Cup against Rotherham. I remember feeling like the game was skewed towards away draws when I first played it 18 years ago, and it’s no different now. Chugger, the team bus, is worth every penny of the £300 we paid for him on eBay.
It’s time to put my beloved Brentford to the sword in the Vans Trophy. I should point out that I’m not bothered about this tournament at all, but since we’ve got a week off after this and then a run of league games, we might as well try to win it. Farnerud needs a rest and Ferdinand is back from his suspension, so I move a few things around, shuffling Jamie Davies back onto the bench. Let’s make this quick and painless. The hallowed turf of Griffin Park awaits.
The Bees, considered by many to be by far the greatest team the world has ever seen (there’s a song about it and everything), are abject and we blow them away with two goals in each half, while they fail to have any shots — even off target. Pflipsen decides that it feels like a “brace of goals” kind of day, and he gets them, along with a Møller solo effort and an Underwood penalty. Brentford’s only shining lights are Michael Dobson (shortlisted for the summer) and Ollie Gottskalksson, the big man in nets who vaguely keeps us at bay with the length of his surname alone, but overall, it’s a battering. I leave a single rose in my technical area and disappear back onto the bus.
We’re immediately drawn against Bournemouth in the next round, away of course. It’s yet another Division 2 team for us to squash. Then, we receive news about a fixture that might not be so straightforward. The League Cup semi-final gods have spoken. Little Rushden and Diamonds are going to Old Trafford to play Sir Alex Ferguson’s mighty Manchester United.
In the meantime, Swansea City are right up our chuffs in Division 3. We have a game in hand, but our lead is only six points. And our next game? Swansea at Nene Park. The pressure is on.
