Authors: Ben Smith
‘We had to change it,’ he replied.
‘Well, take someone off who fucking deserves it,’ was my particularly abrupt response.
Matt Gray, as I went to sit in the dugout, put his hand out for a high five and I slapped it so hard that mine stung for about ten minutes. I was
so angry. All the manager had spoke about during half-time was about people making individual errors yet, when he made his changes, he punished me for their mistakes. I would be the first to hold my hands up if I had a bad game but I also knew when I had played well and this was one of those occasions. Even after the game a couple of my teammates, unprompted, asked why I had been taken off.
I cannot remember being so wound up after a game. I kept replaying it over in my head all weekend. Was I deluding myself perhaps? Maybe I had not played as well as I had thought.
I was still brooding about it on Monday. I contemplated apologising to Dean for my reaction – not for what I said, as I stood by that, but my body language and aggressive nature was not very professional. However, in my opinion, he was in the wrong so I quickly dismissed that idea.
We had a team meeting and were shown the goals again. They were crap from our perspective. The manager had every right to really dig a few people out but was almost apologetic as he talked about the errors. These lads were obviously not used to any criticism as, despite even a fairly tame appraisal of individual players’ performances, it all led to some very defensive reactions from certain people.
Sometimes you have to take your medicine and that was one of those times. I know for a fact players would not have reacted like that if Steve Evans had been leading that debrief.
Nothing was said about my reaction despite me half hoping it would be so I could discuss the reasoning behind it.
Unfortunately our next game was away at Crawley so I was not allowed to play. Before the game I saw Gee, Steve Evans’ brother and Crawley’s chief scout. I was still bristling about the Northampton debacle and asked him if he had the scouting report for the game. He did and I was not deluding myself. It confirmed what I thought and said I had played well. The only criticism it had was that I overplayed at times – which, in my book, was a compliment.
Aldershot ground out a creditable 2–2 draw, which gave the management an easy excuse to leave me out of the team again. The next three matches saw us win 1–0 against Bradford City, Southend United and Bristol Rovers, and I played a combined total of one minute. The normal stuff was happening, centre halves were coming on in midfield ahead of me along with players who had been injured for months.
As the club was doing well we were treated to a two night break in Bournemouth. I was not particularly up for it but it turned out to be a good trip. The highlight was when Guy Madjo turned up at the village hotel in Farnborough, where we regularly trained at its gym, instead of the one in Bournemouth – only a footballer would do that.
However, nothing fundamental was changing. I was counting down the days to the end of the season and most probably my career. By the start of April, even though I had no ambition to stay at Aldershot, I still wanted to know why I was not getting more opportunities.
I went looking for Dean after one Tuesday training session but, as was often the case, he proved quite elusive. I was left with Matt Bishop to whinge at again. He sympathised without giving me any real answers. It was funny to watch his reaction when I said I knew our relationship was going to be coming to an end soon. He said nothing but I do not think he is much of a poker player.
I finally managed to trap the manager in his office that Thursday and told him how I felt. He said he was trying to build a team that was not going to play attractive football. I had no problem with that inherently but, if it was always the plan, what was the point in me being there? He went on to say I was too much of a footballer and, in the same breath, I was to play against Port Vale on Good Friday.
It was really weak management because I was sure I had just talked myself into the team. I wondered how many times other players had done the same thing. Being the person Dean is, he was too concerned with upsetting
people rather than doing what was right for his team. I think he would have commanded a lot more respect from his players if he was just straight with them, rather than trying to please everyone.
The Port Vale game panned out exactly as I expected. I started off in an attacking central midfield role, which we stuck with for about twenty minutes before the gaffer reverted to a 4–4–2, shunting me out to the left.
I managed to last an extra three minutes overall this time and was replaced on sixty-one minutes. I had not been as effective as at Northampton but was still one of our more potent attackers. I have no doubt the substitution was planned before the game because it definitely was not decided on performance.
There were no histrionics or words exchanged as I left the pitch this time but I was pretty sure Dean was aware of what I thought about his decision. We lost the game 2–1 and, while I could complain all I liked, ultimately we had lost both games I started.
We were back in training on Easter Sunday before travelling down to Plymouth for a game on the Monday. To my surprise I actually retained my place in the team and, even more surprisingly, I was deployed in my preferred central midfield position.
We lost 1–0 and I played crap.
I found it hard to get on the ball and, when I did, my quality was rubbish. To confuse me further I stayed on the pitch longer (seventy-five minutes) than I had in either of my other two starts. The manager would have been well within his rights to drag me off earlier and I would have had no complaints.
Whether it had meant to or not, that move dispirited me. I had played well twice without reward or recognition and now could not see how that was going to change. It was a strange feeling. I was playing on loan for a club where I had no future rather than playing for my parent club where I also had no future.
News broke during that same day about Steve Evans leaving Crawley Town to join Rotherham United. I had no particularly strong feelings about it at the time because I did not think it would really affect my future.
I was wrong, however.
On the second of two days off, Dean called me and I assumed he wanted to speak about my underwhelming performance at Plymouth.
‘Alright, gaffer. How are you?’ I asked.
‘Not happy,’ came the reply.
Oh shit, what have I done now?
‘Crawley want to recall you from your loan,’ he continued. ‘It is a blow.’
It is a blow…?!
Was it really, Dean? I mean,
really?!
Aldershot had played thirteen games while I was there and I had played in three, all defeats. I did not think the people of Aldershot were going to be crying into their beer when hearing this news.
Dean wanted me to tell Craig Brewster, Crawley temporary manager, that I wanted to stay at Aldershot. The problem with that was I did not want to. Do not get me wrong, I was not doing cartwheels about being called back but I did not want to sit on the bench at Aldershot for the last month of the season either.
I
T WAS A
weird sensation – I had only been away from Crawley for just over two months but it felt like I was joining a new team. The management had totally changed with Craig Brewster in temporary charge and Steve Coppell brought in as Director of Football.
Even though I did not agree with everything Steve Evans and Paul Raynor did, at least I knew what to expect from them. This felt like a step into the unknown. One thing I was looking forward to, though, was seeing how Steve Coppell worked.
I felt a little nervous, which was strange as I had nothing to prove. Realistically whatever I did was not going to have any effect on my future.
The whole vibe at the club had changed. Steve and Craig were not doing anything spectacular but what they were doing was treating players like adults. It led to a lot more relaxed feeling around the place.
Every day when we were training and the lads were laughing I kept expecting to see Evo come roaring round the corner and start screaming obscenities at someone for having the audacity to misplace a pass – it felt like I had been institutionalised.
Within a day of being back at the club I had a chat with Craig and Steve and they offered me the newly vacated Head of Youth role for next season.
Simon Rusk, my former teammate, had moved on to Brighton & Hove Albion to run their youth team.
It was a great opportunity and pretty well paid but I still felt I had the ability to play at a high level and did not want to stop playing. Also, to do the job properly, I would need to move to Crawley and I was not sure I wanted to relocate.
I canvassed a few trusted people’s opinion and the general consensus was I should take the role. Perhaps I was not as good a player as I thought!
I obviously did not take it and it turned out they were all right and I was most definitely wrong. It is a decision I regret to this day and I just hope I get another chance in a similar role because I think I could do a good job.
As the month wore on, whether we achieved promotion or not was clearly going to go down to the wire. There were two reasons why I was desperate for this to happen. Firstly, I had a £5,000 promotion bonus in my contract. Admittedly I had not done much to earn that this season but I saw it is a retrospective bonus for my efforts in the Conference winning season.
Secondly, I was desperate for the season to not be extended for another month via the play-offs. I just wanted to be put out of my misery.
The lads put us all through the mill but we eventually secured the third automatic promotion place after winning at Accrington Stanley on the last day of the season.
The season ended like the previous one: a party on the coach as the club moved up another level to League One. The progression was quite spectacular really and I was proud to say that I had played a role in it. However, on this particular occasion I did not feel a part of the success.
The season was brought to an end by individual meetings between the players and management to discuss how the season had gone and to discuss the future.
Mine seemed like a waste of time but we went through with it anyway.
‘How do you think the season went?’ asked Craig.
‘For me personally?’
‘Yes.’
‘A fucking disaster,’ I retorted.
Craig laughed, which I guessed was his way of agreeing with me, before he went on to thank me for what I had done for the club but that there would be nothing for me going forward. I had been aware of this outcome since about September so had no problem with it at all.
Even though I ended up leaving Crawley through the back door, my spell at the club had surpassed my expectations. I initially joined as I had nothing else and was just happy to guarantee myself another year in football. In the end I had two out of three really enjoyable years there.
It was a roller coaster few years which, I think, anyone who has played under Steve Evans will tell you is normally the case, but I certainly came out of it a stronger person.
Steve constantly tested me both as a person and a footballer and, even though I did not like some of his techniques, more often than not he motivated me in some way. In that third year, as I went to play under different managers, I realised why he behaved the way he did at times. I still did not agree with a lot of it but I could see the method behind some of the madness.
Once you stripped away all the hot air and bullshit there was often a lot of thought put behind his rants. I have tried to give you an insight into how he works, and yes there were funny incidents where we would all cringe at some of things he said and did, but you do not get the success he has achieved in his managerial career without knowing what you are doing. It is not for me to say what is right or wrong – after all, there is more than one way to skin a cat.
One thing I did notice both during my time working with Steve and since is how ruthless he is. When at Crawley and now Rotherham he never rests on his laurels. As soon as he achieves success he is immediately planning for the next challenge. He shows very little loyalty to players. He does
not wait to give them an opportunity at the next level. If he thinks he needs to improve the team or squad he goes and does it without any sentiment. The more I progress in my career in coaching the more I understand why he does that.
During my three years at Crawley I made over eighty appearances and scored fifteen goals. My last season as a professional yielded seven appearances for Crawley, three for Kettering, five for Woking and eight for Aldershot, chipping in with two goals.
I
THINK IT
was Gordon Strachan who said: ‘Football is a game of lows punctuated by a few highs.’ (Although I may be paraphrasing him slightly.)
I am not sure I take such a pessimistic view but for every win against Leeds United, Derby County or heroic games against Manchester United, there was an abundance of defeats on cold Tuesday nights against the likes of Dagenham & Redbridge, Accrington Stanley and Morecambe.
However, I had some memorable games and seasons throughout my career: the game at Old Trafford it goes without saying, although probably an even prouder moment for me personally was captaining Hereford United to our FA Cup win at Elland Road. Scoring two goals to help knock Swindon Town out of the same competition also gave me a great thrill, along with playing a big part in the win against Derby County that same season.
I will always look back with a sense of ‘what might have been’ after a brilliant first two-thirds of the 2003/04 season, when I had already scored fourteen goals from central midfield before dislocating my shoulder for a second time. I was out of contract at the end of the season and am still convinced I would have either helped Hereford United get promoted or secured myself a move to a much bigger club than Shrewsbury Town.
I thoroughly enjoyed proving Steve Evans wrong and being an integral
part of an excellent Crawley Town squad that broke all sorts of records to romp to the Conference Premier title during the 2010/11 season.
My biggest achievement, however, was without doubt winning promotion to League One with Hereford during the 2007/08 season. We were tipped to be closer to the relegation zone than the top but, after a good start and managing to maintain our form, we more than competed against the likes of Darlington, Peterborough United and MK Dons. Despite a shaky start, I was a virtual ever-present in the side and developed a great midfield partnership with Toumani Diagouraga, who was a pleasure to play with.
On the downside, the 2008/09 season was a disaster as we were humiliatingly relegated from League One with a whimper and an embarrassing points tally.
My last season as a professional 2011/12 was also disappointing as I never got the chance I felt I had deservedly earned during the previous two seasons.
My spells at Southend and Shrewsbury were unmitigated disasters but helped mould my character as much as my more successful spells. The spell at Shrewsbury was especially underwhelming for a variety of reasons, but I knew I should not have gone there before I even put pen to paper. I suppose I got what I deserved for chasing money.
I realise my failure to make any impression at either Arsenal or Reading was down to the fact I was not good enough for the former and I acted too immaturely while with the latter.
I only have two real regrets: moving from Yeovil just before Gary Johnson took over; and leaving Hereford United the first time around. I strongly believe that if I had remained where I was at either point then I would have gone on to develop a lot quicker, under two highly experienced football men, into both the player and person I was capable of being.
On reflection, though, four promotions and only one relegation was a decent return on all the hard work I put in during my career, especially when I really knuckled down in the second half of it.
I hope this book has given you an overall insight into life of jobbing footballers. For seventeen years I was lucky enough to get paid a decent wage to do something I would have done for free. During my career I used to saunter into training about 10 a.m. and would wonder what went wrong if I wasn’t home by 1 p.m. However, the trade-off to that was I moved house nine times and never really settled in any area – although I could have gladly stayed in Weymouth or Worcester for the rest of my life.
Over nearly two decades I came across all sorts of characters and learnt something from all of them, even if it was sometimes how
not
to do things. I would often look enviously at the likes of my old pal Terry Skiverton, who managed to stay at one club (Yeovil) and make a real impression on its history. There was nothing I would have liked more than to make 300 or 400 appearances at the same place, but I was always too obsessed with moving on to pastures new. The problem being, once I got there, I often realised the grass was not always greener.
The closest I came to making an indelible mark was with Hereford United. When I joined them for the second time I was ready to give them the next five or six years of my career. Unfortunately, by the end of my contract, they did not share that ambition and my nomadic lifestyle continued.
By some twist of fate I seemed to find myself drawn back to the West Country and I particularly loved my times in Yeovil, Hereford, Weymouth and Crawley.
Ultimately I did not quite have the career I had hoped for. Let’s be honest – when I signed for Arsenal as an eleven-year-old I did not dream of playing for Yeovil, Hereford or Crawley. However, when I look back at some of the players I played both with and against over the years, who had double the ability I had but did not have half the career, I can look back with pride at the fact I managed to earn a living in the cut-throat world of professional sport.
I will always have that ‘what if ’ feeling at the back of my mind – if the
penny had dropped earlier for me, I am convinced I would have played at a higher standard for longer.
During my whole professional career I made 475 first-team appearances and scored eighty-two goals.