Journeyman

by Ben Smith

  It was late into May when I agreed the deal and I took great pleasure in calling Southend United on the way home to say I was not accepting their offer. Unfortunately I could not get through to Rob Newman, so I left a message with Steve Tilson. I didn’t hear anything from Rob but was not bothered in the slightest.

  As with most football clubs, pre-season training started on the first day of July. Hereford had disappointingly finished seventeenth in the previous season and, as a result, there had been a large playing staff turnover. I believe only five or six players were left from the year before’s squad. Not great for team spirit, admittedly, but it did make it easier for new players to settle in as everyone was in the same boat.

  I initially stayed in digs with Michael Rose – another new player – and Matt Baker. We were lodging with John and Joan Criasia, who were very hospitable and made me feel welcome. Michael enjoyed the hospitality so much that he eventually married their daughter!

  Matt Baker then bought his own house. So, after about six weeks, I moved in with him in Credenhill, just outside Hereford, which incidentally is where the SAS are based.

  For some reason I seemed to attract big, ginger roommates – firstly Skivo at Yeovil and now Matt. I quickly took up the role of ‘unskilled labourer’ within the house. I got a pretty good deal because in exchange for whipping the Hoover around the house a couple of times a week and doing the washing up, Matt knocked up a gourmet meal for us every night.

  Even though Matt was a year or two younger than me, maturity-wise he was streets ahead – which made us an odd couple. He would do or say things that I would just ignore or laugh at, but then started doing myself a year or so later. For example, who in their twenties reads the Sunday Times? Matt did. He was not a typical footballer and got plenty of stick about it, although he didn’t seem to care.

  If I were to look up ‘stubborn Yorkshireman’ in the dictionary I would expect to see a picture of Geoffrey Boycott, closely followed by one of Matt Baker. Matt revelled in the fact that a scout from Manchester City once said of him that he ‘exuded confidence, which bordered on arrogance’. I think he would like this on his gravestone!

  His more sophisticated and professional approach was good for me as, while he couldn’t totally eradicate my more laddish side, Matt did help suppress it. He was teetotal, for one, so I didn’t have him egging me on to go out drinking every few days. I still had regular Saturday night blasts on the town with the boys, but my midweek sessions were now few and far between.

  Joining Hereford also put me in contact with Richard O’Kelly, who had joined the club over the summer as assistant manager/physio/kit man – basically anything that needed doing – and I loved everything about him straight away. He had no ego whatsoever and was a brilliant coach – the best I had ever come across. He was so enthusiastic and loved football more than anyone I’d met. Even now when I’m coaching, I try to base my style on Richard’s. I’ll be delighted if I turn out to be half the coach or man he is.

  I had done some work over the summer and came back to training feeling sharp. I must have impressed as, during one of our breaks, GT said he knew I was good, but didn’t realise just how good. Now, anyone who has worked for him will know these compliments are rare. During my four and a half years with GT I think I heard maybe two more ‘well done’s. He was very old-school and reminded me of David Webb in that you normally knew you had played well when he said nothing at all.

  I was well off the pace in our first friendly against Tranmere Rovers, but I suppose that was to be expected after not playing for nearly eighteen months. We had another game against Swindon a few days later and I felt a lot better in that one. It was also the first time I played with a striker by the name of Steve Guinan – we instantly built up a good relationship both on and off the pitch.

  But then disaster struck…

  We had an away game at Bromsgrove Rovers. I was on the bench but came on for the last thirty minutes. During this time the ball fell to me in the opposition’s 18-yard box but I could see an opponent coming towards me at the same time. My plan was to nudge the ball away from the oncoming defender, anticipate the contact and, once I felt it, go to ground and win a penalty. This was something plenty of players do time and again.

  Unfortunately the contact was heavier than I anticipated and it sent me high in the air. I landed on my elbow, which took the full force of the landing and levered my right shoulder out of its socket.

  The pain was instant and unbearable and I was rapidly taken to hospital. The journey was more painful than I envisaged as, when the ambulance approached the hospital, we had to go over speed bumps and my damaged shoulder was moving all over the place.

  In casualty, I was injected with a horse tranquilliser to help put the shoulder back into place. I remained conscious but have no recollection of it being done – only coming around with my arm in a sling.

  Unfortunately I had not suffered a straightforward dislocation. Not only had the shoulder fully come out of the socket, but I had also severely damaged the nerve in the right deltoid. For the next six months I had no feeling in that muscle, and yet a specialist decided I didn’t need an operation. He also told me there was a very good chance the shoulder would dislocate again, which didn’t exactly fill me with confidence.

  It was a huge blow after missing so much football the previous season. I seemed to be changing my reputation from ‘good-time guy who goes out too much’ to ‘injury prone’. I didn’t want to be perceived as either of these, let alone both, so I decided I could either whinge about the situation or I could just get on with it. In some ways I was lucky it was an upper-body injury as I could continue working on my fitness throughout the recuperation period. I was determined to be physically better than I’d been before and ready to play as soon as the physio gave me the all clear.

  During the rehabilitation period I did lots of work in the gym and with the physiotherapists at Lilleshall, which, at that time, was the national sports centre.

  A couple called Phil and Pauline had, in conjunction with the Professional Footballers Association, created a centre where professional sportspeople could go to recover from long-term injuries. Recovering from such injuries can not only be a long process but a rather lonely one too, so it was nice to get a change of scenery and work alongside other players in the same situation. As well as other footballers, there but also some top cricketers there like Mark Butcher and Andrew Flintoff, who were also on the way back from long-term injuries.

  My recovery went well and, by the beginning of November, I was back in training with Hereford. I eventually made my full League debut against Barnet at Edgar Street on 30 November 2002. Steve Guinan stole the show by scoring a hat-trick but I also managed to get on the score sheet in a 4–0 win. I was running on adrenalin and delighted to play my first senior game in eighteen months. Scoring made all the hard work even more worthwhile.

  I kept up my personal promise of hitting the ground running and went on to score two goals in my next game – a 5–0 hammering of Woking at home. I was really enjoying my football and was playing with some really good players. Matt was nearly as good a goalkeeper as he thought he was, while in defence we had Matt Clarke, Michael Rose, Tony James and Andy Tretton. I built up a good relationship with Jamie Pitman in midfield – he carried the piano and I played it! Left winger Paul Parry was clearly going on to big things and Steve Guinan was my type of centre forward, intelligent and a good finisher.

  My recovery took a bit of a setback in my third game, though. We beat Chester 1–0 away but I caught tonsillitis leading up to it and, as a result, put in a crap performance. A combination of the tonsillitis and my initial adrenalin surge subsiding meant my performances tailed off after that; I found myself struggling to complete games and was regularly substituted.

  That pattern looked set to continue when we played Telford at home on New Year’s Day, however, in the sixty-third minute – around the time I was normally being replaced – I somehow ghosted pas
t a Telford defender and smashed a right-foot shot into the top corner of the goal from just inside the box. That goal prevented my substitution and went a long way to helping recapture my form.

  I scored again in a 2–1 defeat against Yeovil in the FA Trophy. I received plenty of stick from the travelling fans for being – how can I put it? – ‘cuddly’ (a fair comment a couple of years previously maybe, but not at that point!).

  My place was now cemented in central midfield playing alongside Jamie Pitman. Our qualities complemented each other well: his discipline allowed me to break forward into the box regularly and his defensive strengths covered up my frailties.

  The team was playing well and we were making a late push for the play-offs in the process. The goals mostly dried up for me after that one against Yeovil – I only scored one more against Kettering – but I was pleased with my overall form.

  I loved going into training every day too. The combination of a great set of lads – all around my age – and brilliant training sessions with Richard meant we were really improving as a team. We were only a couple of additional players away from being a very good team.

  Unfortunately we didn’t quite make the play-offs but we were involved in a few eventful games before the end of the season. We got spanked 4–0 away to Yeovil at the start of March – a game that also saw us have two players sent off. Yeovil dominated us all over the pitch and Skivo took great pleasure in giving me lots of stick for it, both during and after the game.

  We played Doncaster Rovers at home for the last game of the season. They had already secured a place in the play-offs and asked if they could play their chairman Jim Ryan at some point. Jim was named as a substitute and came on for the last five minutes. I do not think he touched the ball and it was a good job for him that he didn’t. Apparently it had always been his dream to play for Doncaster but a few of our players, myself included, found it disrespectful that he thought he could come and play against professionals. I’m sure he wouldn’t have liked it if we’d gone it to his boardroom and started working with senior industry professionals.

  Jim could sense our hostility because he kept saying on the pitch how he would buy us drinks in the bar afterwards. We did not care about that; we were more interested in ‘welcoming’ him to the game. Unfortunately none of us managed to and he negotiated those few minutes unscathed. To top it all off we lost the game 4–2 and did not receive any drinks either.

  We ended up finishing the season in sixth place on sixty-four points – a little disappointing after flirting with the play-offs during the latter part of the season, but a massive improvement on the previous season’s seventeenth. I’d ended up playing twenty-five games and grabbed six goals. Considering I hadn’t made my debut until the end of November, I felt it wasn’t a bad return.

  GT then had individual meetings with each player to discuss the future. I was apprehensive because, although I had done OK, I often drifted in and out of games. I was confident I would be a lot better next season if given the opportunity. Thankfully GT agreed, but an indication of how tight the finances were was the way he haggled over £50.

  As I mentioned earlier, you only got paid through the summer if a new contract was agreed with the club. GT explained, however, that a lot of pressure was being put on the cash flow as there was little money coming into the club. He was willing to offer me a new one-year contract on the same money as before (£450 per week), but I would only receive £400 during the close season. I agreed the offer was fair considering I’d been injured for half the season, but I was not keen on the pay cut through the summer.

  We eventually settled on £425 over the close season, with my wages going back to £450 on 1 July when we pre-season training began. I was also to receive £50 an appearance, which was again paid weekly not per performance, and £50 for each goal I scored.

  In hindsight it seems strange that we were haggling over such small amounts of money but, particularly in lower-league football clubs, these seemingly insignificant sums can make a difference. Most important to me was the fact I had been signed on for another year, though. I was delighted and genuinely felt that Hereford had potential to improve.

  I was not expecting what happened next.

  CHAPTER 10

  WE HAVE LIFT-OFF!

  SEASON: 2003/04

  CLUB: HEREFORD UNITED

  LEAGUE: CONFERENCE PREMIER

  MANAGER: GRAHAM TURNER (GT)

  IT FINALLY DAWNED on me that, while I needed some rest and relaxation over the summer break, it was also a great time to give myself an advantage over opponents and fellow teammates. So I began a pattern that I continued for the rest of my career: I had some time off as soon as the season ended, plus a week or two later in the summer when I relaxed again and went on holiday, but for the other four or five weeks I worked hard on my fitness and strength at the gym by myself.

  I was really looking forward to the 2003/04 season. I had managed to play twenty-five consecutive games in the previous one and was confident that, if fit, I could be a pivotal part of the team. Not only that, but I knew if I could stay fit then my performances would only get better.

  Being the shrewd man he was, GT had managed to keep almost every player he wanted, as well as making a few new additions to the squad. Those that made a real impact on the first team were David Brown, a centre forward from Telford, Danny Carey Bertram, a striker from West Bromwich Albion and Ryan Green who, at the time, was the youngest ever player to appear for Wales.

  Ryan’s record may seem quite impressive but I have always compared playing for a minor country like Northern Ireland or Wales to me playing for my district team! Although that is not always the view shared by my Celtic counterparts!

  This was the first time I witnessed how giving a squad of players time to evolve, really learning each others strengths and weaknesses, could lead to a huge improvement in both individual and team performance.

  I picked up an ankle injury in the second of week of pre-season so I missed the first couple of friendlies, but other than that preparation was going really well. I came on as a sub against a youthful West Bromwich Albion team and immediately scored two goals. I also went on to play in the rest of the friendlies.

  I was still liable to go off on the odd bender, as illustrated by the ‘few quiet drinks’ I went for with Matt the weekend before the season started – I cannot recall anything from that night past 10 p.m. and we christened it the lost weekend – but, as a rule, I had calmed down and was living my life a lot more professionally.

  Our first game of the season was away to newly promoted Tamworth. It was a scorching hot day, as often seems to be the case on opening day. The temperature at kick-off was measured as 37°C. I am definitely not made for such heat and found myself seriously labouring as the first half wore on. I was not the only one: Tamworth have permanent portacabins (if that isn’t too much of a contradiction) as their changing room and, at half-time, their ‘thick-set’ centre half was overheating in there like an old Ford Mondeo. He didn’t make it out for the second half!

  I managed to shake off my lethargy, however, and scored twice. One was a stooping header from 6 yards and the other a tap-in as I followed up a Steve Guinan shot. It is amazing what a combination of adrenalin and confidence can do, even in such stifling heat. I went from ambling around to suddenly feeling like I had an infinite amount of energy.

  We went on to win the game 3–1 and followed that up with a comfortable 5–1 win at home against Forest Green Rovers. We then beat Morecambe 3–0 at home, where I bagged another two goals (a sliding left-footed shot into the top corner and a tap-in at the far post). Morecambe had finished second in the Conference the previous season and we dispatched them easily. My form was continuing on an upward trajectory.

  We got a positive draw 1–1 away to Barnet, but the next game at home to Aldershot turned out to be one of the best games I was ever a part of with Hereford. We went 2–0 down in the first half but pulled it back to 2–2 shortly after the b
reak. We dropped behind once more before eventually winning 4–3, with an acrobatic injury-time volley from David Brown. The goal was celebrated by players and fans as if we had won a cup final. I even found myself intensely embracing an unknown pitch invader!

  It is impossible to describe the buzz of winning such a game in the last minute. People often ask which is better: scoring a goal or sex? For me I would go with the goal every time, although that may have more to do with my performance in the bedroom!

  Our next game was away to Stevenage and we beat them 2–0 with Steve Guinan and myself scoring. We had both scored five goals in six matches at this point and I felt I was improving with every game. In those first six outings I, without a doubt, put in the most consistent run of quality performances of my career. I had a constant rush – before games, after games, during the week – and I could not wait to play or train. Our daily training did not really differ from a regime of warm up, possession practice, a small-sided game and some finishing, but this seemed to suit me. I was getting lots of touches of the ball and it helped keep my brain sharp. As someone who never had pace, I felt it was really important that my mind was working quickly so I could perform at my best. I was seeing the football like a beach ball and regularly scored in both the small-sided games and the finishing practices.

  The training sessions seemed to suit the whole team, in fact, as we took sixteen from a possible eighteen points in those first six games, scoring eighteen goals. I got a personal reward when I was named August ‘Player of the Month’ – a great honour.

  We went into September full of confidence and continued our great run by winning 5–0 away to Farnborough, before beating Scarborough at home. This ridiculous run of form could not continue, however, and it came to a halt when we got spanked 4–1 away to Burton. Any successful team I played in very rarely lost two games in a row, though, and this was no different: we recovered swiftly by winning at home to Telford and followed this up with two home draws to Gravesend (where I scored but played like crap) and Dagenham & Redbridge. I was on the scoresheet in the latter match as well after slamming home a great strike from just inside the box, latching onto a clever pass from David Brown. My performance, however, was overshadowed by my post-match interview. After scoring, I spent the majority of the second half preparing – TV people always choose the goalscorers after all!