Adi-dazzler and the Wild Vardy Lunch

- Stars and Stripes

- Managers past and present with the FA Trophy

- The amended 1864 date

- The Holy Grail
April 10, 2012.
Today is one of excitement mixed with anticipation.
Wrexham travel to high-flying Fleetwood Town tonight, the Cod Army are unbeaten in 27 matches — 23 ending in triumph — and are one win away from securing the title and with it league football for the first time.
On the way I will be popping into Adidas UK business headquarters to help tie up a deal between one of the largest global sportswear companies and the third oldest professional football club on Planet Earth.
Somewhere inbetween I need to call a prospective employer about a job I applied for.
I feel pretty privileged to play a small but significant part in getting the Wrexham badge on the same fabric as the famous Three Stripes for the first time in over three decades.
One afternoon in the underbelly of the Racecourse Ground Dave Roberts, the genial chief executive picked my brains about which kit supplier the club should next choose.
Several names are mentioned from Nike to the lesser-known Jako (no not that Jacko). I still have a picture somewhere of the Nike sample. It was CLARET with half white cuffs.
“Nike didn’t have our shade of red”, muses a bewildered Dave. They later would, however with the sublime 150th anniversary hooped shirt.
Anyway, Adidas. It has be Adidas. The late 1970s kit was adorned by the god-like figures of McNeil, Shinton, Thomas and George Best (Gareth Davies’ testimonial), to name a few.
Arfon Griffiths’ all-star cast captured the Third Division crown wearing it in front of capacity home crowds. The trefoil logo, unbroken Three Stripes and that glam-rock oversized collar. A thing of beauty.
Adidas is a prominent part of terrace culture, so imagine if we could get the older fans on board who’ve favoured Rockport over replica, Stone Island over strip as well as the younger generation purchasing their Adidas wares from JJB.
Dave Roberts is an affable guy and has won many friends in his tenure as the club’s CEO.
He knows that the son of one of the bigwigs at Forest Green Rovers works for Adidas. After a few pow-wows the FGR man brokers a meeting between Adidas bods and our three-man team heading to Fleetwood via Stockport — Dave, treasurer Mark Williams and me. Two are successful in their fields whilst I had recently jacked my sports editor job in after four hellish years in London and was awaiting that call I mentioned earlier.
The Adidas UK business headquarters is based in a leafy Stockport suburb, tucked away behind a row of semis.
The inner sanctum is wondrous — Crystal Maze meets Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Staff are dotted around cradling iPads and sipping future hipster coffee.
Our man greets us and we huddle around a table in a meeting room.
We’re shown the samples. They are not bespoke but who cares.
A deal is swifty agreed. Adidas will kit out the team, staff and fans for the next two seasons. Result.
It will also be the first shirt to adorn the club crest with the amended date of formation — 1864 which will make it a nailed-on collectors item. EBay gold from 2030 onwards.
We emerge from the building triumphant and excited. The ghost of that god-awful Puma shirt with the rule-contravening giant Greene King sponsor is about to be busted.
My thoughts of how the finished shirt will look are cut short by the realisation that my future employer has not called me.
I call them. I am told by some lady that if I have not received an offer of employment letter by now then I have missed out. “How? I’ve passed all the tests and was told I would be informed when training starts”. More protests follow. I get a second opinion and it is confirmed — “you start in two weeks Mr Edwards. “Didn’t you get the letter?” Clearly not.
Moral of this in-story? Don’t rely on letters, especially those prised open by a microphone-wielding Stephanie Booth…but that’s a story for another time.
I’m landed. My mates and I are going to be wearing Adidas next season and I’ll have a new job to be able to afford loads of the training gear.
A win in front of the Cod Army would cap a pretty decent day and spoil their title party.
Four points from a possible 12 means we are almost certain to contest the playoffs.
Highbury is packed, just a quartet short of 5k on the nose.
I take my place amongst the press corps ready to do my usual match report/Twitter gig for the club.
After an even first-half Jake Speight’s deflected shot from 15 yards finds the net. That’s his 20th goal of the season.
Then, a flashpoint. Jamie Vardy is high and late with an awful challenge on Nat Knight-Percival. Surely he has to go ref? No. Not even a free-kick? Absolute bollocks.

- Beast 1 Vardy 0
With that injustice seething in the minds of our lads we concede the equaliser seven minutes later.
The Beast heads past Mayebi from Gareth Seddon’s header.
It goes from bad to worse — Joe Clarke picks up a second yellow card.
We might be down to ten but Keates and Pogba test their keeper.
The final whistle goes. Mellon is happy whilst Morrell laments Vardy’s two-footed tackle.
In the car on the way hope I check to see if Reds secretary/Does Everything Man Geraint Parry has uploaded my match report to the official website.
I read through, the lap-top illuminating the car like some sort of mystical orb. “Ah shit” I shout, followed by a chuckle. Dave asks me what’s up. “I’ve made a boo-boo in the report. Instead of describing that tackle as a ‘wild Vardy lunge’ I’ve put ‘wild Vardy lunch’.” Cue much hilarity.
Autocorrect or awfully incorrect, it matters not as we head home toasting a productive day on and off the pitch.
***whilst researching for this article I discovered that Geraint Parry royally mocked my Vardy faux pas — see screen grab below!***

Thanks to Google/Getty/WSC for the use of the images. Diolch.
