EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD ANDY HAWKE WAS A YOUNG LAD WHO WAS GIFTED WITH CONSIDERABLE FOOTBALL TALENT. HE HAD ALWAYS HAD THE GIFT, EVEN AS A YOUNGSTER. HE WAS NOW LIVING HIS DREAM, PLAYING FOR FIRST DIVISION REDSTOKE.
ANDY HAD BEEN INVOLVED IN A BAD TACKLE DURING A SECOND ROUND CARLTON CUP MATCH. AS A RESULT, MANAGER DUNCAN MCKAY HAD TOLD HIM TO REPORT TO THE PHYSIO AT REDSTOKE'S ST VINCENT'S GROUND ON SATURDAY MORNING.
“Morning Andy! Is that knee still giving you trouble? Mr McKay told me to meet you and take you to go and see Jeremy. He’ll take a look at your knee for you, and see if he can’t put it right”.
“Where are the rest of the lads, Clive?”
“They’re out doing some light training before the match this afternoon. Danny Collins is glad to be back playing again. I guess you’ll be seeing a lot more of the reserves again now he’s back.”
Danny Collins was the first team left winger. Andy had played in his position a couple of times in the Carlton Cup, and Danny was very encouraging. Danny had been linked with a number of top clubs, but miraculously, Redstoke had managed to hang onto him, and no transfers had gone through during the transfer window.
Clive took Andy into a side door into the Main Stand, and led Andy along a corridor he had only seen once before, during his initial tour of the stadium. He knocked on a door on the left, and went straight in.
“Hiya Jeremy! I’ve brought Andy Hawke to see you. Can you see if you can sort his left knee out please?”
Jeremy Cammack was a grey haired tall man, probably in his late fifties. He was busy taking a look at the ankle of another of the reserves, defender Denzil Bradford. As he worked on Denzil’s ankle, the young lad winced.
“OI JEREMY! Man that’s sore!”
Andy walked over to the bench, and grinned at the youngster. He had been taken onto Redstoke’s books at the same time Andy had.
“Denzil! What have you been up to? “
“Hey Andy. It was really stupid. I was crossing the road on Thursday, and tripped over the kerb! I feel so daft. My ankle swelled up, and it’s killing me!”
Jeremy continued to work on Denzil, and Andy walked over to a seat and sat down next to Clive.
“How do you think we’re going to do this afternoon, then Andy? Rokeford aren’t a bad side, but they’ve had some bad luck with injuries”.
Rokeford were languishing third from the bottom of the league table. They had a large fanbase, and Redstoke had had to issue 10,000 tickets to the Yorkshire club to satisfy demand. The chances were that the away fans would outnumber the home fans!
“Well, I’m sure we can give them a good match. I watched a rerun of their Carlton Cup match, and they were unlucky. They really gave Melborough a shock”.
In fact, Rokeford had been holding Premiership Melborough to 0-0 until five minutes from the end before conceding. It was the reaction of their fans though, that Andy remembered. They reacted as though they had won! They poured onto the pitch and carried their team and manager over their heads like trophies.
After Denzil had finished, he looked more comfortable, and he swapped seats with Andy. Andy walked over to the couch. Jeremy was notorious for saying very little, but his magic fingers were very good in getting to the root of an injury.
“Up you come Andy. Left knee is it?”
Gently, Jeremy worked his hands over the swollen knee. It was badly bruised. After a couple of minutes, he backed away.
“Well Gentlemen. The good news is that there is no serious damage here. The bruising has come out nicely. I want you just to keep your weight off the knee as much as you can, Andy, and wear a support bandage. Stay off it for just a few days, and I’m sure you will be fine”.
Andy was relieved that the injury was not nearly as serious as he had been thinking. He thanked the physio, and he, Clive and Denzil walked out together.
“Are your family coming to the match today, lads?” Clive asked.
Both Andy’s and Denzil’s families were coming to the stadium. Clive gave out a handful of VIP tickets which entitled the families to eat in the stadium’s restaurant.
Andy was pleased to see his Mum, Dad and brother Ricky, and he gave them the news about his knee. They had a further surprise for Andy.
“Dave Horley! What are you doing here?”
“Hi Andy. Well, Kelburn and the Premiership aren’t playing today because of the internationals, so I rang your Dad and asked if I could come with him to see you play. But I hear you have hurt your knee?”
“It’s not too bad. Sorry I’m not playing, but will you sit with us for dinner, and watch the game?”
“Course I will Mate! Try and stop me”.
After the meal, where Andy ate a fish dish, the lads chatted together. Dave had still to make his debut for Kelburn in the Premiership, but he felt he was coming along nicely in the Reserves. He had scored during midweek, and recounted a few times how well he had taken the cross and finished with deadly accuracy.
Kick off time came round, and Andy, Dave and the Hawkes took their place in the stand. The rain had cleared nicely after the last midweek game, and although the sky was overcast, it remained dry. Dave looked round the ground, and was quite pleased with what he saw. As predicted, Rokeford had brought lots of fans, and they had been allocated the usual Away stand allocation, and quite a lot of the East Stand as well.
As usual for Redstoke, they started slowly, and Rokeford had already had two chances before Redstoke even got out of their own half. Roared on by their support, Rokeford stormed the Redstoke defences. However, the finishing of their strikers left something to be desired. Wave after wave of blue shirts came at Redstoke, but they let themselves down when it came to striking.
Next to Andy, Dave twitched. Andy could tell that his friend was itching to get out there, on the end of one of those crosses.
“You wouldn’t miss, would you Dave? Shame you’d be scoring for them, rather than Redstoke though!”
Half time came, and there was no score. In fact, it wasn’t until the seventieth minute that the deadlock was broken. Mike Brazil was hauled down midway inside the Rochford half, and Danny Collins took a quick freekick. It went into the path of right winger Ben Farish, who struck a magnificent shot into the back of the net, via the underside of the crossbar.
Now it was the turn of the Redstoke fans who made the noise. However, the atmosphere felt wrong. The Rokeford fans began to taunt the Redstoke fans. The Redstoke fans taunted back. By the time the final whistle blew, the Rokeford fans were making obscene gestures, and chanting towards the Redstoke fans. The stadium seemed like a powder keg.
“Come on, let's get out of here”. Andy’s Dad ushered them away from their seats. Andy was last to get out, and as he got to the top of the steps, he turned round. There were police and stewards trying to calm the fans, and Andy could see fans of both clubs being taken away by police officers. He followed the others down behind the stand. They went through a door, and walked along a corridor which led to the players’ lounge.
In the lounge, Sky Sports were showing the final scores. Andy could not forget the awful scenes of hostility that he had seen on the terraces though, and most of the scores did not register. He was awoken from his daydreams when Ricky whooped.
"Excellent! Horminster could only draw today, so Redstoke move up into the play off places. Championship, here we come, eh Andy?"
Andy nodded, and tried to concentrate on the TV.
