Journeyman

by Ben Smith

  This meant that Emma and our new addition, a Dalmatian called Oakley, were temporarily left in Dorset while I sorted us out somewhere to live. We could have gone back to the house I still owned in Shrewsbury but I didn’t particularly want to commute from Shropshire every day.

  On the same day I re-signed, my old partner in crime from our first spell, Steve Guinan, also re-joined on loan from Cheltenham for the rest of the season.

  I had not played since New Year’s Day due to my suspension and some postponed games, but I was thrown straight into the team against Notts County at home. Except for not scoring, my second debut couldn’t have gone much better, as I assisted two goals in a 3–2 win. I was given an attacking midfield role and was unlucky not to score within ten minutes after I slammed a shot against a post. I tired near the end, as expected, but thoroughly enjoyed myself and received a great reception from our supporters.

  We followed this up with a creditable 2–2 draw at Bury but Stockport County came to Edgar Street for our next game and brought us down to earth with a thud, comprehensively beating us and having the game wrapped up by half-time.

  After this we were at home against a strong Barnet team, but we won 2–0. They had the likes of Jason Puncheon, Nicky Bailey and Dean Sinclair in their side, all of whom went on to bigger and better things. I scored our opening goal via a fortuitous deflection and went on to win the ‘Man of the Match’ award.

  We consolidated with a great win away at Lincoln where Steve Guinan, who got a hat-trick, Alan Connell, who scored the other, and Andy Williams absolutely ran riot in a 4–1 victory. Steve even managed to score a header from the edge of the 18-yard box but when you have a head as big as his, that is not as much of an achievement as it sounds! We then remained unbeaten with two solid draws – one at home to Rochdale and the other away against Chester.

  I had been captain since the Barnet game because Tamika Mkandawire, our skipper and best player, had become injured, but I retained the captaincy after he returned. When I was in talks to sign and GT had mentioned me taking on the captaincy since it looked like Tamika was going to leave, I’d assumed that would all have transpired over the summer. I didn’t feel particularly comfortable with the current situation, though. Tam was a highly respected member of the squad and I was still settling in and trying to prove myself. However, I wasn’t going to turn the opportunity down so I just tried to lead the team in my own understated way.

  The point earned at Chester pretty much meant we were safe from relegation and, whether consciously or not, we seemed to knock off early for the season – winning once in our last eleven games and scoring only five goals. That meant we unfortunately set an unwanted club record for the amount of games played without scoring.

  There were a few incidents that stuck in my mind through this spell. One was away to Peterborough United where I was determined to put in a good performance after their interest in me in January. I should’ve known it was going to be a bad day when they scored after ten seconds. They went on to win 3–0. So much for me showing Barry Fry and Peterborough how good I was! We got totally overrun in midfield and I did not get near anyone. My opposite number Micah Hyde was replaced with five minutes to go and I think it must have been because he got sunstroke as I definitely did not get anywhere near kicking him.

  Peterborough played with a central midfield three against our two. Their attacking pair flew forward with such vigour, pushing us back, giving neither me nor Steve Jennings any chance of getting near Hyde who was playing in the deeper role and absolutely running the game.

  I bet the Peterborough hierarchy were devastated they did not secure my signature!

  Our gaffer was getting more and more agitated and angry as the bad run of games continued – everything we tried failed to get us out of the slump – and, one morning before training, we were called into the home dressing room for a meeting. GT came into the room absolutely fuming. The only other time I had see him go off on one was after that humiliating away defeat at Shrewsbury, but this time the catalyst was an off-the-field matter.

  Most days there would be footballs for us to sign in the dressing room that then went off to local schools and charities. On this occasion, some of the lads had, rather than sign their own name, put aliases such as ‘Bobby Robson’ and ‘Posh Spice’, and the manager had received a phone call from one of the recipients saying how disappointed they were – although I’d argue that if Posh Spice had signed the ball it would’ve been worth a lot more than one signed by us gaggle of goal-shy lower-league footballers.

  GT went mental and smashed one of the aforementioned balls against the dressing room wall, saying: ‘You cunts are taking the piss out of me and this club.’ He added that unless we got our act together and the culprits came forward, we would only get the bare minimum of one month off over the summer. Wayne Brown and Andy Ferrell, being the people they are, stepped forward straight away and admitted their guilt for causing ‘ball-gate’ and that was the end of it. While the actual incident itself was quite amusing, it was clearly not the main issue. GT was displeased and frustrated with our overall situation and this just gave him the opportunity to tell us what he really thought.

  The penultimate game of the season was against Shrewsbury at home. My old nemesis Gary Peters was still in charge at my former team and they needed a victory to secure a play-off place. We had nothing to play for but pride, but I was determined to scupper Shrewsbury’s chances.

  Like the majority of our back end of the season, things did not go to plan. We, unsurprisingly, did not score and Shrewsbury ground out a 1–0 win. Gary Peters ran on the pitch celebrating like a demented David Pleat and bounded over to me to compliment my performance. I felt like telling him where to go but instead settled on wishing him luck with about as much sincerity as he had displayed in his comment about my performance.

  The only good thing to come out of this period was finding a lovely house for Emma, Oakley and I in Worcester – only thirty minutes away from Hereford. This made it close enough for me to travel in every day but far enough for me to get away from football when I wanted to.

  GT was still in a bad mood leading up to the last game of the season (away at Torquay) and reiterated his threat about us training over the summer. He moved the goalposts slightly and said that if we didn’t get any kind of positive result at Plainmoor then we would be training throughout May. I was pretty sure this was a bluff as I didn’t think he wanted to be in over the summer either, but I wasn’t willing to put my theory to the test. I reckon neutral fans were a little surprised to see the whole Hereford team celebrating like a bunch of lunatics when our keeper pulled off a great save in the last five minutes to secure a draw in a seemingly meaningless end-of-season affair, though!

  My own form had been up and down during our poor spell and culminated in me being hauled off with about fifteen minutes to go at Torquay. My standards had dropped over those few weeks. Nothing was said, but I wondered if, at that time, GT was starting to regret the big outlay he had made on me.

  Much like when I’d joined Weymouth from Shrewsbury, I struggled to adapt to a mid-season move. I’d been absolutely flying at Weymouth but hadn’t transferred that form to Hereford – although, in my defence, there was a lot of stuff going on. Not only was I trying to adapt to a new team and style of play on the pitch, I was also commuting regularly from Weymouth and trying to sort out a new home.

  I finished the season with eighteen appearances and one goal for Hereford meaning, when combined with my Weymouth spell, I’d played in forty-eight games and hit eleven goals. I did wonder to myself how many goals I would have got at Weymouth if I’d stayed for the season. I’m confident it would have been at least fifteen.

  CHAPTER 18

  FINALLY GETTING SOMEWHERE

  SEASON: 2007/08

  CLUB: HEREFORD UNITED

  DIVISION: LEAGUE TWO

  MANAGER: GRAHAM TURNER (GT)

  EMMA AND I spent the summer making our new house a home and, b
efore I knew it, the next season was upon us. There had been a high turnover of players and, through a combination of letting players go and others rejecting new contracts, Hereford had only seven senior contracted players and three youngsters.

  This was not seen as too much of a problem by the management. GT knew the club couldn’t match the bigger teams in the League financially – and, geographically, the club wasn’t ideally placed – but he also knew that if he sat tight he could attract players of the requisite quality within the club’s wage structure.

  My pre-season was terrible personally. I’d worked hard physically during the summer break so was at the front of any running, especially long distance, but my touch and timing seemed to desert me and I was all over the place technically.

  A lot of our friendlies were against higher-ranked opposition so you can imagine how much fun it was scratching around for form against Championship and Premier League players. The more frustrated I got with my performances, the harder I tried – and, in turn, the worse I played.

  The squad itself was starting to take shape, though. GT and his assistant John Trewick, whether by default or design, came up with a genius and unique recruitment strategy imitated by many clubs in subsequent years: they started signing highly promising young players from top Premiership and Championship clubs on six-month or season-long loans. There was no chance of Hereford obtaining players of that quality permanently but, as our management team was so well respected, clubs were willing to entrust their youngsters with Hereford because they would get the opportunity to play and develop in the right manner.

  Over the course of this season we signed Robbie Threlfall (Liverpool), Toumani Diagouraga and Theo Robinson (both Watford), Lee Collins and Stephen Gleeson (both Wolverhampton Wanderers), Sherjill MacDonald (West Bromwich Albion), Gary Hooper (Southend United) and Chris Weale (Bristol City).

  I was getting asked by the local press if I was captain of the team for the coming season. I told them I wasn’t sure as nothing had been said directly to me – which was true, although I must admit I was expecting to get the role. Karl Broadhurst aside, who had been brought into the club and seemed to be ‘classic’ captain material, there were no other stand-out candidates.

  We were fine-tuning our preparations in the week leading up to our first game against Rotherham when I was called into the manager’s office and told I wouldn’t be captain that season. Karl was given the role and I was to be vice-captain.

  I was pissed off; not so much for losing the captaincy – although I was gutted about that – but because I felt I’d been led on all pre-season by being named captain in every game. If I wasn’t going to be captain, why hadn’t I been told sooner? In hindsight, my poor performances probably contributed to the decision and perhaps GT had been trying to give me a chance to recapture my form. That was never mentioned, though.

  During the conversation there was also never any inkling that I wouldn’t be starting in the season opener. You don’t need to be a fan of A Question of Sport to guess what happened next!

  We trained as usual on Friday but the manager gave no indication of who his team was going to be. During both this spell and my first at the club, I’d never been dropped and had always started every game I’d been available for, so I arrived at Edgar Street on the Saturday convinced I would be playing. As I went into the dressing room, John Trewick said the gaffer wanted to see me. I knew instantly what this meant. GT said he’d been wrestling with the decision for a couple of days but had ultimately decided to place Kris Taylor alongside Toumani Diagouraga in central midfield.

  I felt severely pissed off for the second time that week.

  We put in a creditable performance to secure a 0–0 draw against a strong Rotherham team while I sat on the bench and sulked for the first seventy minutes, before replacing Kris for the last part of the game. I then went home and sulked for the rest of the weekend. My dad and his girlfriend had come up to see Emma and me, but, with the mood I was in, I imagine they were happy when the weekend was over and they got to go home!

  Games come thick and fast at the start of a season so I was forced to snap out of my bad mood and challenge for my place as we prepared for a League Cup game against Yeovil that coming Tuesday night. Surprisingly, bearing in mind the previous Saturday’s good team performance, I was selected to play this time. The team as a whole played well and we blew Yeovil away 4–1.

  But, while the team in general was brimming with confidence, I was struggling. If you hadn’t been watching me specifically you probably would’ve said I played OK; however, if you knew me better, you would’ve been aware I was devoid of confidence and just playing from memory. As an experienced player, you learn to get through these games by doing things really simply until something happens to allow the confidence to flood back.

  Even now, a great indication of how I’m playing is to watch what I do with the ball. If my confidence is high, I like to hold onto it and attract opposition players before releasing it to my teammates into the space created. When this isn’t the case, I just move the ball really quickly, one- and two-touch only.

  I kept my place in the team for the next few games – away to Barnet, Rochdale at home and Birmingham City away in the second round of the League Cup – but I was still desperately scratching around for form and got substituted all the time. If you’re playing central midfield in an orthodox 4–4–2 formation, getting constantly replaced is a sure-fire indication you’re not performing.

  Both Trevor Benjamin and I were really disappointed as we both got dragged off after an hour against Birmingham. GT sensed this and tried to placate us by saying we were being rested for the next game. This was a little white lie on his part because I was actually dropped for the next game!

  In a game against Macclesfield we reached the seventy-minute mark and the usual substitution loomed. Rather than wait for my number to come up I just started jogging off the pitch. I did not have to be Nostradamus to work out who was to come off. I wanted to make a point that I thought these substitutions were pre-planned and not always related to my performance.

  Luckily for me Trent McClenahan, our right back, would be on international duty for Australia when our next match against Morecambe arrived and this meant a tactical re-shuffle. Richard Rose switched from left back to cover Trent, Kris Taylor moved to left back and I retained my position in central midfield. I am certain that if Trent had been available I would have dropped to the bench.

  These small details can change a season or even a career. It was the eighth game of the season and nothing seemed to be changing for me. My confidence was low and all sorts of things were going through my mind. Was I good enough for this level? I was, but it didn’t seem that way then. Had my legs gone? No, but when you’re playing poorly you don’t feel that fit.

  The first thirty minutes against Morecambe followed the usual pattern but then, out of nowhere, confidence started flowing through my veins. I couldn’t put my finger on the source but I suddenly felt relaxed and began enjoying myself. I influenced the game more and more as it went on, created a goal for Trevor Benjamin and was widely accepted to be ‘Man of the Match’ in a excellent 3–0 away win.

  I felt like a new player and now looked forward to going to training and games. My body language transformed: I was looking the management in the eye and went from having slumped shoulders to walking with my chest out. My normal chirpy persona returned too. Our next game was a strong 4–2 victory at home against Bradford City. They were the big-hitters in our league and, not that long ago, were part of the Premier League, but we tore them apart. It felt great. We then suffered a slight blip as we lost away to Grimsby but quickly bounced back with a 3–2 win at Notts County, where I scored my first goal of the season, before comfortably dispatching Brentford.

  That last game was one of those rare occasions where I knew we were going to win even the day before. On the Friday we went through our normal routine of a warm up and some small-sided games. Every player looked t
otally focused and on top form, even those who knew they were not going to play.

  This was brilliant because those players were pushing the boys in the team and I commented to John Trewick that everyone was flying. That must have been a great feeling for the management, seeing their team looking so highly motivated. We beat Brentford 2–0 but it was as comfortable a victory you were likely to see.

  My fortunes had changed so much that I was genuinely rested for a Johnstone’s Paint Trophy game against Yeovil before coming straight back in for the next League game. It was early October by that point and we were second in the table. We were flying high and playing well, although the general consensus was we were not any threat to those considered the main title challengers.

  We built on our success with two wins against Mansfield Town and Stockport County, which sandwiched an excellent goalless draw at home to Leeds United in the FA Cup first round. I’m not sure what that draw illustrated best: how far we had come as a club or how far Leeds had fallen. Only a few years before, I’d been playing for Hereford in the Conference while a young, vibrant Leeds team had been competing against – and beating – some of the best teams in both the Premiership and Champions League.

  We were in good form leading up to the replay at Elland Road and, because Karl Broadhurst was out injured, I led the team. We scored early on and we were expecting a bombardment thereon, but we went toe to toe with them throughout. It was not your average ‘David v. Goliath’ clash – Leeds had chances to score but so did we.

  In the end, we – and, I can say, relatively comfortably – saw the game out to add another victorious chapter to Hereford United’s glorious giantkilling history.

  Afterwards I had that lovely post-game sense of satisfaction both with my own and the team’s performance. The following day I found out none other than Chris Waddle had named me ‘Man of the Match’ on BBC Radio 5 live. That gave me a real buzz as I had grown up watching and admiring Chris and his style of play.