THE HOPE THAT KILLS YOU

Never again...surely?

By Nicholas Lee

Well, here we have it.

Only a matter of hours until the start of the season. Probably the most critical season in the history of our fine club.

I'm pretty sure I said the same thing this time last year. With good reason too.

We had a club legend as manager, seemingly being able to depend on the support of Spencer Fearn and John Fitzpatrick behind the scenes.

A mixed first half of the season showed potential. Indeed, it was widely thought that a couple more signings could have helped propel the club towards the play-off places.

Fast forward to January 15th, and a lacklustre 3-1 reverse at home to Mansfield. Gannon's tenure came to a premature end amid the wind and rain in SK3.

Over the following months, we found salt being rubbed into our wounds by a man who was, and continues to be, Ryan McKnight - the Rodney Trotter of the Black Country.

This chap, installed only hours before Gannon's sacking, seemingly did everything in his power to exacerbate our many problems. Darije Kalezic. Adnan Cirak. Javan Vidal. Paul Marshall. That Schofield fella whose first name escapes me.

I'm starting to feel a bit woozy just recalling such luminaries. In fact, I don't want to continue talking about last season, as it only leads to me seeing spots, accompanied by that bilious feeling that can only come from someone you love kicking you repeatedly in the gentleman parts.

That's not to say I've forgiven our 'esteemed leader' Mr McKnight. Even promotion this season wouldn't absolve what I consider to be his many failings.

Promotion back to the Football League would go some way, but we'd still be left with the memory of that year we lost as our faceless shareholders stayed silent and allowed Mr McKnight to play Football Manager.

For me, last season was like one of those rickety bridges in Indiana Jones. As soon as you get halfway across, the bloody thing starts shaking and the alligators start snapping.


But I have hope for this season. In fact, it's not even hope. It's a feeling that we MUST get it right this season.

If we don't win promotion, we may as well lock the gates and turn out the lights.

On the face of it, Messrs Bogie, Lord and Mitchell look to have built a decent team. We've said that before, and, talent-wise, we were right.

However, while the side of 12 months ago possessed the ability, it was the application that was lacking. As for the attitude....Two words.

Jon Nolan. *Shudders* #Bantz indeed.

Fast forward a few months and there seems to be a new toughness about the squad. We finally have players who've been there and done that. We seem to have the ability to play the officials.

Last season we struggled to play the ball, never mind persuade a referee one way or the other. Case in point: At the Cheadle Heath Nomads friendly, Kyle Jacobs was having a running battle with their number 11 during the first half.

After the Nomads player had made yet another futile appeal to the referee, Kyle gave the poor lad a cheeky shove and tripped him up. Sneaky? Yes. Against the rules? Most definitely. A welcome antidote to last season's set of ambivalent tossers? To quote Alan Partridge, abso-bloody-exactly.


If you factor in Jacobs, along with the likes of Charnock, Hand and Craney, we finally have a number of players who have the knowledge and experience to talk our promising youngsters through games.

The new lad Verma looks promising, if only for the opportunity for a chant based round 'Informer' by 90s hippity-hoppers Snow.

As for the strikeforce, one hopes Kristian Dennis keeps up the form that's seen him hit double figures in pre-season.

In goal, Ian Ormson and Lewis King are looking neck-and-neck for the number 1 jersey. Jordan Fagbola seems to be continuing the form he displayed in the latter stages of the abortion that was last season.

Hell's teeth, even James Tunnicliffe has started to look like something approaching a professional footballer. Even though he's now a semi-professional footballer. Mad.

While all this makes good copy, there's always the nagging feeling that more turmoil is just the other side of that rickety bridge. If it is, I don't feel I'll have the energy to tackle it head-on.

At the end of the day, we've been burnt so many times before that it's hard to hope.

After all, it's the hope that kills you.

Animo et Fide.