[FM15] Raising Cain

17 January 2015 – Oxford United (9-6-10, 13th place) v Southend United (4-11-10, 22nd place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #26 – The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Referee: Mike Russell

Oxford United had won seven league matches and drawn one in Kyle’s time with the club, and that was starting to draw more fans to the Kassam.

Home attendance and ticket sales were up nearly twenty percent from just two months before. That had an obvious direct effect on the bottom line, and had bolstered Kyle’s position with the chairman on more than one front.

Most importantly, it helped his job security. Secondly, it helped him against Moore – and that was a fight always close to the top of Kyle’s mind.

He had capitulated and he hated himself for it. After pronouncing that Moore was going to have to work on Kyle’s terms, he had been forced to compromise in front of the chairman and that galled him, getting not the apology in return that he craved but rather merely a promise to keep her eyes on her own bobber.

He thought football managers were supposed to have authority over staff. That notion had been shot down most cruelly. But in the process, he had learned two things:

First, he couldn’t trust Moore. That was a given.

Second, he didn’t feel he could trust his chairman. The second admission hurt a lot more than the first.

Eales was worried about his business. That was all well and good. Kyle was worried about his job, which was why he had given in.

Moore, for her part, seemed worried only about Diana Moore.

But Kyle had more important things to worry about, such as getting three points over Southend to keep the run going.

The XI was what you might have expected. Bevans was restored to right full back, and Hoskins fronted Hylton up front – what Kyle thought was really the Us best pairing.

He also wanted to avoid any kind of slipup such as that which had befallen the team at its last home match. Cheltenham was still on his mind.

“This is another club you should be able to beat if you play to your capabilities. If you look up at the top of the table, you’ll see there are a lot fewer clubs in your way than there were a couple of months ago. But if you don’t see this job through to its end, you’ll kick yourselves. There is still plenty to play for, gentlemen. It starts today and it starts with three points against this lot you’re playing. Get the job done.”

So it was a bit of a surprise for Kyle to see David Worrell, Kevan Hurst and Shaquile Coulthirst lined up right across the front – Southend were playing three up front away from home.

Colin Lee was going for broke, and in his team’s position, Kyle couldn’t really blame him.

The first half was boring. There really was no other way to put it. Southend’s three-headed monster proved to be toothless. Even though the clubs split the possession right down the middle, Southend’s penetration ended right at the top of Oxford’s defensive third and that was just how it went.

On the other end, Oxford could generate chances but not a way to solve Daniel Bentley in the visitors’ goal. The entire first half was played in a stutter-step fashion – like two race cars trying to drag each other but with clogged injectors.

The best chance of the half came when Dunkley headed over from a Maddison corner in thirty-six minutes. That said, Kyle wasn’t upset with his players at half. Far from it.

“You’re playing another team that is counting on beating you to save their season,” he said. “I see effort out there and when the application comes from you, the points will come. Stay the course, work hard and put these guys away.”

He sent them out unchanged for the second half and Southend stuck to its three-striker alignment. In search of a winner that looked about as likely as lightning hitting the roof of the home dugout, Lee’s team battled on bravely.

They did get the first corner of the half, though, but little else.

As it began to rain, and Kyle turned up the collar of his coat against the cold, Oxford earned a throw halfway down the right flank in the Southend half. MacDonald quickly tossed it to Meades, who found Maddison at the edge of the area.

As he so often did, the on-loan Sky Blue found the open man – Hylton, on a diagonal run away from goal to the left of the Southend goal. In this case it wasn’t the first pass Maddison was interested in, but rather the second – as the defense sagged to cover Hylton, he crossed to the unmarked Hoskins, who finally broke down Southend in 56 minutes.

While Southend recovered from that hammer blow, Kyle’s men found their feet and started to press hard.

Moments later, MacDonald and Maddison were combining again, with the central midfielder throwing the ball to the right winger. His ball into the box found Hylton near the byline, in too deep to shoot and covered by a defender.

So, he did the right thing, recycling possession by putting the ball back out to MacDonald near the corner. The Scotsman whipped the ball right back across the six, and Hoskins was there to punish Southend for their momentary lapse in 67 minutes.

The visitors were coming undone in a most pleasing way. Hoskins looked like he had found his shooting boots again and the second half had been a damnsight more pleasing to look at than the first.

Having hung with League Two’s in-form team for a half plus ten minutes, Southend now came completely unglued. Their attack, such as it was, was even less potent than it had been in the first half. They had had one opportunity on goal in the first 45 minutes, and as the second half wore on, they had even less than that.

However, Wright couldn’t let the sleeping dog lie, the skipper winding up in referee Mike Russell’s book ten minutes from time for a rather ridiculous challenge on Barry Corr. He gave a sheepish, and penitent, smile toward Kyle as Russell finished his job, and returned to play chastened.

There was no sense in waking up Southend, but the visitors had long since given up the ghost, which must have caused great consternation on their bench.

But everyone in Oxford blue and yellow was cheering a few moments later when Corr took out his frustration with a retaliatory foul against Danny Rose, who had just come on as a substitute for Mullins.

Unfortunately for Southend, he did it right in front of Russell, and doubly so, he did it in the middle of the penalty area.

Now it was Hoskins grabbing the ball to finish his hat trick from the spot, a feat he accomplished with little difficulty and great fervor and zeal after the ball flashed home.

Then, six minutes later, Hoskins grabbed the ball again – the hat trick match ball soon to be a trophy in his case.

Oxford United: Ashdown: Bevans, Dunkley (Whing 76), Wright (captain), Skarz, Mullins (Rose 85), MacDonald, Maddison, O’Dowda, Hylton (Hoban 76), Hoskins. Unused subs: Clarke, Meades, Ashby, Godden.

Oxford United 3 (Hoskins 56, 67, pen 86)
Southend United 0
H/T: 0-0
A – 5,046, The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Man of the Match: Will Hoskins, Oxford (MR 9.5)

Kyle was pleased that a larger crowd than usual could go home happy after his side’s exploits and it went without saying that Hoskins was over the moon at his performance.

The manager did nothing whatsoever to alter that perception, and Victoria Young’s questioning was unrelentingly positive this time.

“Would you have thought when you were hired that victory today would put Oxford United within eight points of the playoffs?” she asked.

“I could have hoped, but honestly, this run is the stuff of dreams. Everyone in the team has done a great job buying into what we are trying to do. They are playing for each other, sacrificing for each other, and that’s wonderful to see. The fans deserve a team that plays this well and right now I’d put us up against anyone in the league.”

“How much of a surprise was it to see an opponent playing three strikers away from home?”

“Colin had his reasons, obviously,” Kyle said. “One of those reasons is that his team has had trouble finding the net for whatever reason so he thought it was necessary. Beyond that, I’m not going to comment on the other manager’s team or setup.”

They all went home happy, especially Jenna, who was delighted at her father’s success – and with a glow her father had never seen before.

He was curious. But he decided not to push the issue, and as the team got its “victory day” off the next day, Kyle took his daughter to the movies for a simple day away.

While she looked happy and excited, Kyle couldn’t help slipping back into his brooding old self. He wanted to know who the guy was in the library, but he didn’t feel up to calling Stacy. He also felt selfish for thinking of himself when Jenna was obviously in good spirits.

“I probably deserved that,” he said to himself for what seemed like the millionth time since he had seen them together.

For her part, Jenna was close-mouthed about the reason she seemed to be smiling so much.

Finally, Kyle figured it out.

“Did you meet someone?” he asked, in the middle of dinner.

It was sort of blurted out, an expression of surprise, a question of curiosity, all in the same breath.

“Don’t look so surprised, Dad,” she answered, looking patiently at her father. “Yeah, I did.”

“Okay, out with it,” he said, turning a forkful of lasagna over to eat with the tines turned downward.

“What if I don’t want to?” his daughter asked playfully, giving him the hint of a smile that indicated she was teasing him. Usually, Kyle was a dangerous man to goad, but Jenna knew she could get away with whatever she wanted so long as she didn’t hurt his feelings.

“Sooner or later, I’ll drag it out of you,” Kyle responded, looking down at his plate.

“Dad, I’m sixteen, I’m old enough to decide who I want to be around.”

“Within reason,” he answered, taking a sip of ale. “Within reason.”

If he thought repeating himself would make his daughter open up, Kyle was soon disillusioned. She wasn’t spilling the beans, which meant that the two most important women in his life had mystery men.

But even those concerns took a back seat to what happened in training the next day.

Skarz went down with a hip injury and all of a sudden the situation wasn’t nearly as rosy as it had been the previous Saturday.

Skarz was an ever-present, the man who locked down the left flank and was the team’s most consistent performer. The news from the physios was dire: a minimum of four months on the sideline and perhaps longer.

It was nearly season-ending stuff and Kyle well knew it. He tried not to feel snakebit.

“Damn it all,” he thought to himself. “Finally, some success and now this happens.”

The scouts were called into emergency session to try to figure out a loan option – obviously, there was no money to buy a player, and certainly not one a player of Skarz’s caliber – and so, the phones began to ring at larger clubs.

First up was Bolton, who had defender Filip Twardzik sitting around their reserves doing nothing, so Kyle tried again.

The Czech Republic u-21 with the Justin Bieber hair-do could play any position on the left and even play a little central midfield. Having made just five appearances for the Trotters, he was available and Bolton even agreed to keep paying him – a minor miracle in Phil Gartside’s cash-strapped world.

Only the player said no. Again.

That wasn’t surprising, Kyle thought. Just his bloody luck.

Next up was a call to Malky Mackay at Wigan, who had his Latics in third place in the Championship and threatening to regain the Premier League.

He had Brazilian defender Moreno sitting in his reserves – 31 years old, not seeing time for the first team and quite happily affordable as well. Kyle had no problem getting Mackay to agree to loan the player.

And again, the player said no.

All that said, Kyle still had to field a team with a left full back. That meant a meeting with his new best friend, Meades, who was told in essence that this was his big chance.

Meades knew it. At that moment, he was the only healthy left back on the club’s books. It was either him or play with a three-man backline, so Kyle’s motivational speech was hardly necessary.

It seemed to be the same old bad luck. At first it was not having enough bodies available to have a decent backup option in the strike force. Then it was a key player suffering an injury that would not only harm his season, but potentially his career due to the chronic nature of hip problems.

As long as no one touches my midfield, Kyle thought as he looked through a list containing the next wave of potential loan players.

Touch wood.

Management below the Premiership level isn’t a lot of fun if you like the idea of people actually wanting to come to your team.

Kyle sat, alone, at a table at the Folly Bridge Inn on Abingdon Road in south Oxford, trying to figure out his next course of action.

His top two loan choices just weren’t interested, though he repeated his offer to Wigan for Moreno offering the player a chance to be a key player instead of merely a first-team performer, but he didn’t hold out much hope. The Latics had accepted immediately, but the player, Kyle thought, wasn’t likely to be shifted by a simple change in semantics.

He sat drinking a Wadworth ale – Swordfish was his favorite – and went over a list given him by the scouts after training. Fazackerley had added his comments and Kyle had some decisions to make.

There were other players out there, as the list showed, but Kyle had his heart set on the Brazilian. He could do more things, and do them better, than anyone else out there.

Skarz was going to be very difficult to replace. The boy had shown up at training that morning on crutches and looking disconsolate, and it was all Kyle could do not to send him home.

But the player’s morale was such that he needed to be with his mates. Kyle’s job was to make sure Skarz’s gloom didn’t spread to the other players.

This was what a manager does. Kyle knew that. It was what he signed on to do. Yet, the decisions were now his, with the immediate future of a club playing brilliantly hanging in the balance.

Find the wrong man – damage that chemistry. Find the right man – keep succeeding but risk alienating the players already there, especially Meades.

Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t, but he had to do something.

He looked down to cross a name off his list. He looked up to see Victoria Young standing at the corner of his table, with another woman in tow.

“Hello, Kyle, what brings you out here?” she asked.

“Just trying to get some thinking done,” he responded, trying not to sound cross. “Sometimes I do my best thinking with a pint.”

“Don’t we all,” the reporter answered. She wasn’t carrying a notebook and didn’t appear to be recording anything – she was just out for a fun night on the town at a place regarded as among the city’s best pubs.

“That’s what I’d like,” he repeated, hinting he wanted to be left alone. The reporter didn’t sense that feeling.

“Pity about Skarz,” she said. She had seen the incident at training and as such had a story that couldn’t be missed.

“Yes,” Kyle answered, knowing full well that he could be held on the record. “We’ll need to hang in there without him.”

“I don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see what you’re probably doing, but don’t worry, I’m not writing,” Vic replied, taking a pull from her own glass of ale. “I really came over here to introduce you to a friend of mine who wanted to meet you.”

At that Kyle tried, and failed, to mask a look of surprise.

Vic motioned to her left.

“Kyle, this is my friend Allison Austin,” Young said. “Allison, meet Kyle Cain.”

The young lady extended her hand and Kyle shook it. Wherever reporters found their friends was a place Kyle would have loved to have visited in his younger days.

She was, in a word, stunning. Five-foot-six, with a head of long, curly blonde hair that spilled nearly to the middle of her back, with deep, electric blue eyes, high cheekbones, and an ever-so-slightly turned-up nose, Kyle supposed Miss Austin might turn heads wherever she went.

And that was just from the neck up. Kyle didn’t dare look any lower.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,” Kyle responded. “I hope you’re enjoying your evening.”

“It’s not bad,” the blonde woman answered. “Kind of slow in here tonight but that’s how it goes sometimes. I just wanted to meet you and thank you for getting the team playing so well. I’m a lifelong fan.”

Kyle nodded and smiled – they all were, when they wanted to meet someone, in his experience – and he inquired as to where she usually sat.

“In the Mail stand, where else would I sit?” She looked at him with a wide, almost teasing smile. “I told you, I’m lifelong.”

With that, Kyle had to laugh. Of course she was.

To make matters even more mortifying, Kyle got a request from Diana Moore to find out his plans for replacing Skarz.

“Team issue,” he responded to her e-mail. “Not for public discussion.” He copied the chairman on his message, so he could see she was already violating the terms of their compromise.

Like it was any of her bloody business. She had gotten her pound of flesh out of the manager, but Diana didn’t seem to know when to back off.

That seemed odd to him. Kyle knew, and he assumed Moore had to know, that she needed none of the information she was seeking. Commercial departments aren’t generally appraised of loan players. Or much else having to do with team selection, for that matter.

However, for the club’s Twitter feed, she did need information about the team on game day. And it was in that vein that he decided to test the younger woman’s loyalty to Oxford United.

In response to the inevitable e-mail request for the XI the day before the match, Kyle returned the note with the following information:

Ms. Moore:

Here is the planned XI for tomorrow.

Regards,
Kyle Cain

Ashdown, Bevans, Dunkley, Wright, Meades, Mullins, MacDonald, Maddison, O’Dowda, Hoban, Hoskins.

With that, he returned to his list of potential loanees, called Fazackerley to get his thoughts on a couple of potential players, and went to bed.

Sure enough, on the morning of the match, the club’s Twitter feed contained the XI printed in full.

“Hoban recalled to the eleven for Oxford,” the account read. “Get behind the team today for the match with the Grecians!”

Only, it wasn’t the actual XI he planned.

It finished an important opinion in his mind. He would have to tell the Irishman that he wasn’t actually in the starting team for the match, and he would apologize for that, but he had to know that the staff supporting the club was actually supporting the club.

It didn’t appear that Diana Moore was really doing that, if she was willing to publish what she thought was the team before the team sheet was turned in to the officials.

“We need to have a discussion about Diana,” Kyle e-mailed his chairman as he prepared to leave for the ground. “And this time it needs to be a serious one. She is taking a dispute and using it to hurt the team. I will explain after the match if you will meet me for a drink in the Christchurch Suite.”

Eales responded in the affirmative, and Kyle prepared to leave for the ground hoping for victory on more than one front.

It wasn’t nice. He hadn’t started the argument. But finally, he was determined to finish it.

Diana Moore would learn not to mess with Kyle Cain. In this case, when she messed with Oxford United’s bull, she would get the horns.

24 January 2015 – Oxford United (10-6-10, 12th place) v Exeter City (7-5-14, 21st place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #27 – The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Referee: Lee Mason

The climb had been both dramatic and steady. But as the teams prepared to play on a cold, windy and rainy day at the Kassam, Kyle noted that continuing the team’s run would be a simple test of wills.

The Grecians were sliding down the table in to the area Oxford had occupied before Kyle’s arrival. The possibility of cracking the top ten in the league was not out of the question if results went right and he really didn’t have to tell the squad that.

They all knew it.

He arrived at the stadium in a good mood. He had already told the strikers of his change to the ‘published’ eleven on Twitter and thankfully, everyone understood.

For whatever reason, Hoban wasn’t terribly popular with the fans, even though he was joint top scorer at the club with Hylton, with both men on nine goals.

Besides, Kyle liked Hoban better off the bench in any event, and as such the Irishman wasn’t too bent out of shape when he heard he was not in the starting XI.

The team talk was all about continuing momentum and as the squad took the pitch, Kyle settled in for a good old-fashioned fistfight in the midfield.

But before he did, he bumped into Moore near the club offices.

“That wasn’t nice, what you did,” he said simply. “Please don’t publish my team selection before noon on a match day again.”

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize that would cause concern.”

Kyle looked at her and laughed. She really didn’t know what to make of that.

The real eleven had Hylton supporting Hoskins, which shouldn’t really have been much of a surprise. In fact, Kyle took a roasting on the team’s feed for supposedly omitting him from the team after scoring a hat trick in the prior match.

He’d have to have been daft to do such a thing. And though there was no shortage of people around League Two who thought it might have been a good description for Kyle, nobody was willing to seriously believe he’d go that far.

It took less than ten minutes to start the fur flying, as Exeter midfielder Alex Nicholls had to come off injured after a 50-50 challenge wit hMeades that had Kyle holding his breath. The team’s only capable left-back needed to be more careful than that, and as the Grecian came off, Kyle had a quiet word with Meades.

“You do know that if something happens to you the team is in a world of hurt,” Kyle said quietly. “Be careful with yourself, yeah?”

Meades toned it down after that, but a few moments later MacDonald was off on a searing run up the middle. His ball for Maddison got knocked straight back to him off a defender, so the Scot simply turned to his left and led O’Dowda beautifully down the flank.

The youngster got the ball to nearly the byline before pulling back into the box, where Hoskins met the ball flush on the instep of his right boot, volleying forcefully home past James Hamon in the Exeter goal.

The crowd – a bit bigger this time as well – was up and out of its seats in short order and that was just what the doctor ordered. For one thing, it kept everybody warm.

A cold, wet rain had started to fall just after kickoff and it felt like the chill cut right through down jackets, scarves or whatever else people used to try to stay warm.

At that point, both teams looked to switch off for a time. The players wore long sleeves and some even had light gloves on, so as Exeter tried to find a way back into the match, they were also trying to keep warm.

It was ugly stuff after Hoskins’ goal. Exeter didn’t manage a single shot on target in the entire first half and Oxford had only two – the goal and a drive from well outside the area by MacDonald that Hamon collected with ease, if not comfort.

Still, when referee Lee Mason blew for halftime, Kyle was satisfied.

“They’re so cold their pilot lights have gone out,” he said. “You did that to them by getting an early goal. Play the kind of defense you can play and you’ll take the life right out of these guys. I don’t want to see Mr. Ashdown have to make a save today. See if you can do that.”

With that, Kyle retreated into the home manager’s office for a cup of hot coffee. He didn’t want his team to see he was just as frozen as they were. But he really needed a pick-me-up and that was the best way.

“A touch of whisky in this wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world,” he laughed to himself as he finished the cup and prepared to head back into the elements with the players.

He would have preferred to see a bit more high pressure from his team – his half-serious imitation of Barcelona in that regard – but Exeter hadn’t really gotten near the Us goal and that was the end objective.

As the second half began, Oxford picked up where they had left off in the defensive side of the game. This was a great day not to have to chase the game and Ashdown simply pointed where he wanted his defenders to go. The Grecians couldn’t get going and that was just fine with Kyle.

They were a bit brighter, mind you, but nothing was getting on target. Captain Scot Bennett blazed over from twenty yards ten minutes after the restart but that was their best change in the opening fifteen minutes of the session.

For his part, Kyle knew that the team’s usual pressure and passing alignment wasn’t optimal for the conditions and as the match ticked over seventy minutes, he figured his team had done all they were going to do with their 4-1-3-2 alignment.

He called Whing and Sswenkambo to him, giving the loan player his debut and issuing instructions to his veteran defender.

“You’re in for Dunkley,” he told Whing, “but I want 4-2-3-1.”

He turned to Ssewankambo.

“Slot in beside Mullins, support the defenders and look for the outlet ball to the wings,” Kyle instructed. “You saw this in training. Show me what you can do but remember, think defense first.”

The double swap was made, with the ineffective Hylton sacrificed to make way for Ssewankambo, and the match went on.

It was hardly better, but Kyle was watching his team’s shape. They had used the formation a few times late on in matches and were only now getting more training time with the alignment. It was time to see how much the players had learned with a one-goal lead to protect.

Ryan Harley had an effort from distance in eighty minutes but Ashdown simply waved it wide. The holding midfielders were able to close down the supply through the middle and on a cold, wet day, direct play was always going to be the order of the day.

Exeter responded, but Ssewankambo followed instructions, feeding O’Dowda out wide on the left to give the Irishman time to lead a counterattack, with the resulting shot forcing Hamon into action once again.

But then the injury bug hit again, as both Bevans and Mullins went down in the last ten minutes of the match. Mullins came off for Rose but Bevans soldiered on, and that was big of the young man.

Mason blew the whistle so everyone could go get warm and dry, but the Us were once again in injury trouble. When it rains, it pours.

Oxford United: Ashdown: Bevans, Dunkley (Whing 72), Wright (captain), Meades, Mullins (Rose 88), MacDonald, Maddison, O’Dowda, Hylton (Sswenkambo 72), Hoskins. Unused subs: Clarke, Ashby, Hoban, Godden.

Oxford United 1 (Hoskins 13)
Exeter City 0
H/T: 1-0
A – 5,130, Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Man of the Match – Will Hoskins, Oxford (MR 8.3)

“I’ll take a brandy, please,” Kyle said with a smile.

The waitress in the Christchurch Suite did as the manager asked, and soon he was cradling a snifter filled slightly higher than usual so he could warm up. The liquid burned its way down his throat and Kyle took a deep breath to let the effect of the alcohol settle in.

Eales approached, hand extended.

“Pending other results, we are now top ten,” he said, with a wide smile. “This is great stuff we’re seeing from the club.”

“Same as before,” Kyle said. “The players are doing what they are told, finding confidence and taking their chances. I’m very pleased.”

“So are the board,” Eales responded. His glasses bore a few telltale signs of where he had been – dried water drops had left small circles at the corners of the chairman’s spectacles. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket to fix the minor mar to his appearance, and finally looked at Kyle with new eyes.

“So, what do you need to tell me that’s so secret you can’t e-mail?”

“I gave her a team sheet at her request and she put it on social media – at seven o’clock this morning.”

Eales knew immediately what that meant. Even though one of the first rules of the internet was not to believe everything you read there, that was basic stuff. Anyone could read it. That was far too early for someone to be publishing a starting XI.

“Was it the right eleven?” the chairman asked.

Kyle took a second sip of his brandy.

“No, sir, it was not,” he said. “I wanted to see if she would go public with confidential information. It seems, sadly, that the answer was yes.”

“Maybe she didn’t know any better,” Eales said.

“That’s what she claimed,” Kyle said. “I’m not accusing her of sabotage. I am accusing her of stupidity.”

“I’ll speak with her,” Eales said. “Are you getting along better with her?”

“I’m not speaking with her unless I have to,” Kyle said. “I don’t think there is a way back in that sense. She made her bed, now she needs to lay in it.”

“Why are you holding such a grudge, Kyle?” Eales asked. “Seriously. You both have jobs, you aren’t unemployed any more, why hold this over her head?”

“She made it personal,” Kyle shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. As he did, Jenna entered the suite, her all-access pass hanging around her neck.

Daughter hugged father, and Kyle continued to speak.

“She was out of bounds in reference to my personal life,” he added. “I suspect you might feel differently if she was talking about your family.”

Eales, unlike on the occasion of their last meeting, seemed more willing to listen to reason.

“Frankly, I am glad you decided not to make a complaint,” he said. “That could have been very messy and it would have made the papers.”

As important as what Eales had said was what he hadn’t said – in reference to Moore’s doing the same thing.

“I’m not out to hurt the club,” Kyle said, meaning it sincerely. “I am out to get a certain individual off my back. That’s important to me. She hurt me, badly as it turned out. I can’t control how she behaves, but I can do my best to see that she never repeats that hurt in my presence.”

He hugged Jenna with one arm while holding his snifter with the opposite hand.

“Jenna is all I have at the moment, Mr. Eales,” Kyle said. “I do not need that woman reminding me about my past, and it’s as simple as that. Especially not on company time.”

The fact that he could no longer refer to Moore by her name – instead referring to her as simply that woman – was not lost on the chairman.

“I see she hurt you more deeply than I had previously thought,” he said. “But I’m not going to terminate her. I trust you understand that.”

Inside, Kyle’s heart fell. Deep down, in the depths of his revenge-minded soul, he wouldn’t have minded seeing that. But the reaction wasn’t appropriate, so he didn’t make it. A more pragmatic Kyle Cain answered now.

“I understand,” he said, taking another sip from the glass. “Nobody wants to see someone else get their P45. I know how that feels.”

The Sunday after the Exeter match, Kyle spent his day on the internet looking for information. And for a change, it wasn’t about football.

He wanted to try to track down where Stacy was staying. He didn’t expect to find anything – and he didn’t – but he felt better for having made the effort.

That guy in the library, whoever he was, had really frosted Kyle’s cookies.

And speaking of frosted cookies, there was more. Bevans’ injury wasn’t one he could just walk off – it was a thigh strain and it would put him out at least three weeks.

After having survived the wave of injuries to the strike force early in his tenure, another string was the last thing he wanted. The club was playing brilliantly and fresh legs were more important than running players ragged.

He wanted tactical training, though, so of late the sessions had been more about positioning, especially when not in possession, and learning the ‘second’ tactic, the 4-2-3-1.

He also noted, while on the internet, that his old club was looking for a new boss.

Leyton Orient had dismissed Fabio Liverani, with the club sitting 17th in League One. Brisbane Road had become a pretty grim place of late, with just one win in eleven including a setback in the FA Cup First Round against Preston.

Yet as he read the Mail and Vic’s comments about the team’s latest triumph, he derived one particular measure of satisfaction.

When he arrived two months before, Oxford United had two wins and was in 22nd place. After other results knocked the club down one place on that Sunday, the club had still gained eleven places in the table since his arrival – and now had more wins (11) than losses (10).

That was frankly amazing. The purple patch was among the best in the history of the club and when he went out on the town with Jenna now, he was given a respectful amount of space.

Gone was the loudmouth who had badmouthed both he and Ashdown earlier in the season – and now with the goalkeeper starting to come right after a slow start, that problem was starting to sort itself out as well.

In short, Kyle Cain could hardly ask for better. He couldn’t remember the last time he had thought that about himself, and it made him feel good.

If only he could find his wife. That would make things better still.

He was trying to decide whether he still loved her. The thought he had when he saw that guy handling her in public was one of anger, so that told him something.

He took Jenna out for dinner on that Sunday night, since it was fun to go out when the team was doing so well. He decided to talk with his daughter about her mother while they went back to the Spice Lounge for another crack at some of that great Indian food.

“Do you ever text your mother?” Kyle asked.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you know where she lives?” That was a horrible question to have to ask and he knew it.

Jenna couldn’t look her father in the eye, which was rare for her. She didn’t answer the question at first.

“I’m guessing that means you do,” Kyle added, not sure where to turn next for an answer.

“She did tell me, but she also made me promise not to tell you,” she said. “She wanted me to know she was all right. She didn’t think you’d really care.”

That hurt, but as recently as ten days before, it would also probably have been accurate for her to say.

“So she made you choose between us.”

Jenna didn’t look happy.

“Yes.”

“And you chose her.”

Now she looked even more unhappy.

“Yes, to try and keep peace,” she said. “You two have really put me in a horrible position.”

“I’m sorry for what I did,” Kyle said. “You know that. What I want to know is what your mother is doing.”

“I know, Dad,” she said. “But she did make me promise and I want to keep it.”

“Even though it hurts me?” Kyle genuinely could not understand his daughter’s motivation.

She looked at him sadly, and immediately he wished he hadn’t asked the question.

“Dad, you know I love you but you have to admit, when someone wrongs you, all you think about is revenge,” she began. “I don’t want you chasing after Mum like that. Really, I don’t. It isn’t good for you and I think it’s just going to hurt you more.”

Kyle thought Jenna’s words through. His anger at Diana Moore had only served to get him into trouble, and that woman had started everything. Now he wanted to track down someone in Stacy’s life, and God only knew where that might lead.

Yet, there was a difference. He could have risen above Diana’s slights. He had a right to be upset over Stacy. They were still married, after all.

At least, in name.

Moreno once again turned down a loan offer, even with the assurance of a key place in the squad. That didn’t surprise Kyle, but as the transfer deadline approached, he wasn’t through trying.

At the rate players were getting injured, he had to try.

Dionatan Teixiera, a defender and midfielder for Stoke City, was on the short list and Kyle put in a season-long loan bid that was immediately accepted by the Potters.

He decided to double down on his luck – hoping it would be twice good instead of twice bad – by offering for Danny Potts of West Ham, who played left back as well as the holding position. He would finally have enough defenders if both moves went through, and that was wonderful.

Sadly, the injuries continued to mount. Youth striker James Roberts wound up in the hospital with ankle damage in a match against Liverpool u-18s – but he was taken out on a hard slide by no less a luminary than Rickie Lambert, one of three senior Reds players Kyle’s younglings got to face in a 5-1 setback. Lambert had made only three appearances for Brendan Rodgers all season, but what he was doing in the u-18s was anyone’s guess.

It was certainly Lambert’s guess too, as by all accounts the player ran around with reckless abandon and tried to take on the whole defense by himself. He didn’t score, but enough of his mates did to make the event a learning experience and a mild embarrassment at the same time.

Kyle went over the video with his youngsters, and that meant a lot to get the senior manager’s time to show the players where they could improve. There was plenty to look at.

Then, it was just a matter of waiting for the loan players to make up their minds. The deadline was pushed to the 2nd February this year but all that meant was a couple of extra days to sit and worry.

The night before the next match, away to Stevenage, Kyle went out to dinner before rising early the next morning to take the team coach to Broadhall Way. Jenna had started to make some friends in town and was away with them on the Thursday evening – with strict instructions to be back by ten.

He wanted to think. Mostly, though, he was just worried.

Moreno had gotten to him. He had done everything he could to bring the player and he just wouldn’t make the move. It would have been easy to simply say “that’s football”, but what angered Kyle was that he felt he had failed again.

Some things you just can’t control, he reminded himself as he ate. But being alone when he had these thoughts seemed to suit him.

He lost himself in thought instead of his linguini and that seemed just fine to him. He looked up to see a woman standing over his table.

“Mind if I join you?”

Allison Austin was back. Like a bad check, she seemed to keep coming back.

“What if I said yes?” Kyle asked.

“I’d just keep asking,” she replied.

“I’m a married man,” Kyle answered, looking her straight in the eyes.

“There’s no law says a woman can’t sit with a man if he’s married,” she answered. “Besides, I know that feeling.” She flashed her left hand at him, which showed imprints from a ring that had more than likely been worn for a long time.

“Just final,” she said. “He slept around on me.”

Kyle nodded. That was something he could understand.

“All right, then,” he said, motioning to her to sit across the table from him.

Maybe being alone wasn’t the best idea after all. And Kyle needed a friend.

31 January 2015 – Stevenage (12-6-9 , 9th place) v Oxford United (11-6-10, 11th place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #28 – Broadhall Way, Stevenage
Referee: Mark Heywood

With Broadhall Way (or the Lamex Stadium for the more corporately-minded) just over an hour away, no overnight stay was necessary so Kyle boarded the team onto the coach at 8 am for the trip that was 70 miles on the M40 and M25 but was only fifty airline miles away.

Ssewankambo was going to get his first start in the shirt and the player took the news as well as you might have expected, sitting quietly in his coach seat on the way to the ground. Hoban and Hoskins would get the start up front for the Us and Kyle felt good about his team’s chances.

But then he was always thinking that way on match day, even if his inner demons didn’t always let him enjoy the success his players were having.

This was quite a clash. The Boro were two places above Oxford in the table and victory would really help assert the team’s claim on the fringes of the playoff race.

And, Kyle had to admit, that thought was a lot of fun.

The team still hadn’t been defeated in League Two in Kyle’s tenure, and only the blemish in the FA Cup stood between him and an unbeaten record in eleven matches in charge.

They had been much better defensively as well, keeping consecutive clean sheets for the first time all season. Ashdown was getting better each time he played and the only thing Kyle felt could derail his team now was injuries. Touch wood.

He listened to his music on the coach – today’s selection was some Wagner to give him a sense of dramatic purpose – and tried to close his eyes.

The Entry of the Guests, however, would not allow such things, and Kyle allowed his mind to race as the miles chugged underneath the coach tires. He thought back to his playing days and some of the better goals he had scored for Orient, and that was a pleasant thought.

He allowed himself to daydream, and remembered a particular effort against Millwall in a Cup match where he had weaved around and through half the defense before placing a shot over the despairing dive of the keeper and running off to the corner flag like a crazy man.

When he got there that day, Charlotte had been waiting for him, and this time he went to her as part of greeting the fans, as he liked to do when scoring in front of the Tommy Johnston Stand.

This time, though, as he arrived in the corner, it wasn’t Charlotte’s face he saw. It was Allison’s, and that brought him out of his trance with a start.

“Good Lord, Cain, don’t even go there,” he thought to himself. “Just … don’t.”

He had had enough trouble with women in his past – and his present, for that matter – and he didn’t need any more entanglements. It was just not on.

She had been pleasant enough, but to see her face in that situation was a real shock.

He tried to clear his mind of the thought as the team dressed for the match and as it began to rain – again – he put them onto the pitch to do battle with Stevenage.

Rain seemed to be hard-wired into Southeast England these days, and the thought of another frozen day wasn’t exactly appealing. It didn’t seem to appeal to the players either, and Kyle’s players made their feelings known in the wrong way.

Two players – MacDonald and Wright – found themselves in referee Mark Haywood’s book within the first seven minutes of the match. That was alarming.

Haywood had a reputation for strictness, but that seemed a bit much. MacDonald had had a habit of finding the referee’s book with far too much ease in recent matches, and Kyle wanted to note that since he was nearing a yellow cards suspension, and Wright was the captain who should have known better.

That said, it was pretty clear that whoever was first into the match would get a huge advantage. Thankfully for Oxford, it was Hoskins who made the first move.

It came thanks to Ssewankambo, who won a 50-50 ball from defender Kortney House just outside the Stevenage penalty area and, seeing no one open in front of him, recycled possession back to Mullins, who had ghosted in from his right full back position.

He lofted a ball into the middle of the penalty area onto the end of a wonderfully intelligent run from Hoskins, who volleyed powerfully home past Chris Day to get Oxford off to a flyer.

But after that flyer, the “plane” found itself grounded very quickly. After Hoskins’ seventh goal of the season, Kyle had called both MacDonald and Wright to him with instructions to stay in the match. He had a sick feeling about the way the cards were going and didn’t want to tempt fate.

Tom Pett took advantage of Oxford’s slightly relaxed defense by finding space in the penalty area but shooting over the bar in 24 minutes. The teams were playing in a more full-blooded way now and the home team was fouling freely – but without going into the book.

That puzzled Kyle a bit but his attention was diverted when Hoban shook free of the defense after a great ball from Maddison and was only denied from making it 2-0 by a great sliding tackle from defender Bira Dembélé. The Malian made the perfect challenge at the perfect moment, dispossessing Hoban at the last instant.

Hearts went to throats moments later as Bradley Fewster cranked a drive squarely off Ashdown’s right goal post, the ping audible all over the ground on the cold, wet day, with Whing pounding the ball into touch to relieve some of the pressure, only for the same player to force Ashdown into a save at feet just moments later as part of what was undoubtedly Stevenage’s best stretch of the match to that point.

David McAllister was next, rattling Ashdown’s crossbar in 41 minutes with a great-looking drive from twenty yards that Kyle tried to will over the bar. Instead, it was just another metallurgy save for Ashdown and once again Oxford got their lines cleared. Riding luck was no fun.

Now Kyle was on the touchline, urging concentration until halftime, and when Heywood blew the whistle for halftime, he was surprisingly full of praise for his team.

“You got a goal, you survived the early cardings, and you got a bit of luck so maybe the football gods are smiling today,” he told them. “Let’s watch for chances to counter them. When they get forward, they’re vulnerable at the back because they are looking for the overlap. Let’s hit them with numbers on the break and make them sorry.”

Maddison got an immediate chance after the restart but couldn’t find the range, and a moment later Charlie Lee wound up in the book for a late challenge on the Oxford teenager.

In 56 minutes, Fewster got another chance but was denied by the diving Ashdown, who put the rebound right back to the shooter. Fewster never got a second chance thanks to a strong and beautifully timed challenge from Ssewankambo.

Michael Richens got himself booked just before the hour for hacking down Hoskins and Wright missed a free header off the ensuing free kick to annoy Kyle as well as himself.

Josh Doherty went to ground under a hard challenge from the already-booked MacDonald in 64 minutes and as referee Haywood ticked off the winger and gave him the ever-popular “washout” signal to indicate he was on his last chance, Kyle hauled him off in favor of Hylton.

That proved to be a mistake. Playing in his first match of Kyle’s tenure at right midfield, he was off less than three minutes later – on a stretcher – under a hard challenge from Chris Whelpdale. He fell very hard on his right hip and immediately grabbed the joint and started rolling on the ground.

“You’re kidding,” Kyle fumed. “Not another one.”

The manager patted his joint leading scorer on the shoulder as he was carried off and brought Rose on, shifting to 4-2-3-1 and hoping nobody else would get hurt.

No such luck. Before long, Richens was at it again, felling Meades with a hard challenge and earning a richly deserved second yellow card in the process. With Stevenage down to ten, Meades wouldn’t come off because he wanted his team to keep a numerical advantage. Yet since he could hardly run, it wasn’t much of an advantage at all.

The whistle blew, the run continued, and Kyle’s mood was dark as he headed to the changing room. Two more injuries, and no end in sight.

Oxford United: Ashdown: Mullins, Whing, Wright (captain) (Dunkley 90), Meades, Ssewankambo, MacDonald (Hylton 64, inj, Rose 67), Maddison, O’Dowda, Hoban, Hoskins. Unused subs: Clarke, Long, Ashby, Godden.

Stevenage 0 (Michael Richens s/o 80)
Oxford United 1 (Hoskins 11)
H/T: 0-1
A – 2,607, Broadhall Way, Stevenage
Man of the Match: Johnny Mullins, Oxford (MR 7.9)

The word from Andy Lord was dire. Meades would miss a month with an ankle that was mildly sprained and thankfully a low sprain rather than a high one. Hylton would need to see a specialist. That would put him out for at least two months.

That brought the injury list to five, and Kyle knew that without substantial help on the loan wire, further success would be problematic if not impossible.

Yet nobody wanted to come to Oxford.

“I keep crediting the players, but right now our team is being held together with duct tape and baling wire,” Kyle said. “I don’t know if I’ve seen an injury stretch quite this bad before.”

“You did win today, didn’t you?” Vic asked.

“I think we did,” Kyle replied. “But we’re going to need a special effort over the next few weeks to keep this going, and we’re going to need help on the loan wires. Right now we don’t have any margin for error and we don’t have a healthy left full back.”

“Might we see a change in alignment?” she followed. It was the natural question.

“I won’t say anything about that now,” Kyle snapped. “Right now I’m down two more players thanks to two hard challenges from a team that committed twenty fouls in ninety minutes against us. We’re banged up, we’re beat up and we have to get healthy. Then I worry about tactics.”

“Have you worked with a three-man backline?”

“No comment.”

Kyle really didn’t like Vic’s line of questioning, even though he knew she had to ask the questions she was asking.

He wasn’t about to divulge his plans – but the fact of the matter was that even he didn’t know what those plans might be. That was bad.

His plans were dependent on the actions of others, and that made it worse.

The next day, Texiera turned down a loan move, and Kyle wasn’t surprised. That would have been good for his team, so naturally it wasn’t going to happen.

He wondered when United would come through with a loan player. As a senior club, weren’t they supposed to loan players? Every approach he had made to Carrington had been shot down and he was wondering whether the arrangement had any real value other than financial.

But as the deadline day dawned, there was finally some good news.

Danny Potts agreed to come to Oxford for the remainder of the season, and that was a great start. It also gave Kyle a left back again.

Potts had played for Portsmouth earlier in the season on a short-term loan, and was a reason Pompey led the league. He was a good player and Kyle was very glad to have him aboard.

The other move Kyle was able to make was a surprise.

Liam Grimshaw agreed to stay the rest of the campaign from Manchester United. The u-21 player could play the holding position as well as right back and right midfield, making him a solid alternative at three different positions.

And with Hylton hurt, Godden was going to have to be in the match squad too. League rules said he could only have five, and that’s what he now had, with Potts, Grimshaw, Godden, Maddison and Ssewankambo all owned by other clubs.

But Kyle liked the look of his backline a lot more now. It was highly loan-heavy due to all the injuries, but really, what other option was there? The senior squad wasn’t deep enough to handle a stretch of injured players like the one currently being experienced and so loans were the only way.

The other news of the day was Burnley coaxing 68-year old Harry Redknapp out of retirement for one more crack at the Premier League wars. The challenge of saving yet another club from relegation was one the old master couldn’t resist and so that news took over the headlines for a time on deadline day.

The other bit of fun came in a news story on football365.com about Crawley Town.

The side had moved to the final of the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy competition by playing six straight draws, advancing on penalties after the second leg each time. That meant Crawley held all-time competition records for longest unbeaten streak and longest winless streak, at the same time.

Yet the highlight of the day was a visit from none other than Diana Moore.

Kyle was preparing to leave for the day when the marketer approached him from down the hall.

“Kyle, I need a word with you, please,” she said, and the manager stopped near her office door.

He didn’t care for her familiarity, but then, only his players called Kyle “boss”. That was pretty clear, now that Eales had backed down from his earlier statement about his authority within the club.

“Of course, Ms. Moore,” he said, leaning against the frame of her office door as the woman sat behind her desk.

“First, I want to apologize to you for the issue surrounding Twitter and the last match,” she said. “I shouldn’t have posted the team sheet that far ahead of the match and I know you had to make changes to the team because of it.”

Kyle decided to let Moore get away with that statement – he had never intended to use the XI he had given her for that very reason – and he decided to be magnanimous.

“Apology accepted,” he said simply. “Will that be all?”

“No, there’s something else,” she said, handing Kyle a piece of paper. The information it contained raised his eyebrows.

It was from the business office and contained the advance ticket sale for the weekend match against Luton Town.

The team had averaged just under 5,000 fans per match since Kyle’s arrival and less than that in the early going. But now, over 9,500 advance tickets had been sold for Luton and that made everyone at the club happy.

“We would like a special statement from you for the match program,” Moore said. “We’d like you to thank the fans for coming out and for supporting the team, even though they really haven’t to this point. We think it would be good if they heard it from the manager.”

“I can use my program notes section to this,” Kyle said, but Moore shook her head.

“I said, a special statement,” she repeated. “Outside your usual comments. Mr. Eales thinks that is best too.”

He didn’t care for her tone, but then he never really had.

“Very well,” he finally said. “I’ll have something for you on Thursday morning, which is when I’m told the program goes to press.”

“Very good,” she answered. “Thank you for understanding.”

With that, he left, apology in his pocket. That much felt nice, at least.

7 February 2015 – Oxford United (12-7-10, 10th place) v Luton Town (15-4-9, 5th place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #30 – The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Referee: Nigel Miller

It had been a good week.

Will Hoskins won the Player of the Month award for January and Maddison came in second for Young Player of the Month. And for the second straight month, Kyle Cain was honored for his managerial excellence.

He liked that. He liked too that there was a special event before the Luton match, before the largest home crowd for nearly two years, to give him the trophy.

Eales and some guy representing Sky Bet made the presentation and what he liked the very best was watching Diana Moore having to take pictures of the whole thing.

He figured that really had to frost her behind, and that made it even more special.

Never really a movie fan, Kyle still liked the line from Star Trek II in which Khan Noonian Singh quoted the Klingon proverb that “revenge is a dish best served cold”. As far as he was concerned, his revenge on that woman was only just beginning. And, in time, it would be cold.

His team had gained 31 of 33 points on offer since he had arrived, which was actually the best record in England over that same time frame, and it was nice to be recognized for it.

Yet as the crowd filed in and saw the local manager being honored for the second consecutive month, some of them took notice. That was nice too. His words in the match program had been kind and positive, and even though that was against his nature, it seemed a natural thing for him to write.

All he had ever wanted was acceptance that he could do a job. Now Kyle was getting that and he sent his team onto the pitch with a difference in his step and his outlook.

So it shouldn’t have been terribly surprising that the ‘new’ Oxford struggled out of the gate in front of that huge crowd.

Denzel Slager got the first corner of the match for Luton ten minutes into the contest as the teams tried to find their footing on a slick pitch, and after Whing headed the effort over the bar, Ryan Hall took the second.

Abdoulaye Faye, who had fallen all the way from Premiership Hull to League Two Luton on a free in the close-season, got the next chance 13 minutes in, perhaps showing why he fell so far after putting a long-range effort nearly over the car park behind the west goal.

But one thing couldn’t be argued: Luton were the better team.

Hoban beat keeper Arran Lee-Barrett in nineteen minutes from an offside position and that was as good as the Us got for most of the first half. From there it was virtually one-way traffic and Kyle came to the touchline in a state of consternation that he tried not to show.

Ashdown saved twice from Nathan Oduwa within the following five minutes before Hoban finally got a shot on target, a weak effort Lee-Barrett claimed easily.

It looked like the teams might still get to halftime scoreless – until Dunkley changed the game.

With the ball in the Oxford third, Whing squared from the right to find his central defender standing to his left. Dunkley immediately lofted a fifty-yard ball straight up Route One and just over the leap of Luton defender Luke Wilkinson. Waiting on the other side of that leap was Hoban, who raced onto the ball, controlled it with a deft first touch, and slotted past Lee-Barrett to get the home team on the board very much against the run of play.

But then disaster struck again.

Mullins was chasing after a 50-50 ball with Luton’s Nathan Doyle near the touchline just before half and the players collided. They both fell heavily, but the Oxford man fell with his arm beneath him and came up screaming.

“Good Lord, what now?” Kyle thought to himself as the physios gently led the player to the touchline. The halftime whistle blew, but for Kyle it had gone about thirty seconds too late.

Sometimes things happen that change a halftime team talk and this was definitely one of those days where it had. Kyle’s initial plan was to light a fire under his team, but going into the changing room with the lead changed his talk to one of preservation.

“Sometimes teams don’t win on their best days and sometimes teams win on days that aren’t their best,” he said. “You’ve hung in there and taken the lead. It’s up to you to hold it.”

They ‘held it’ for a total of forty-six seconds after the restart, when Oduwa shook loose between Whing and Dunkley and scored on a free header from substitute Paul Benson’s cross.

“Lesson learnt,” Kyle fumed to himself, and Fazackerley didn’t even look at him in reply. He was thinking the same thing.

After a few moments, assistant manager turned to manager and spoke.

“I’d have told them the same thing, Kyle,” he said simply. “Let’s see if we can find a winner.”

Lord then passed Kyle a note and the manager nearly threw his head back in frustration. It simply read: Broken wrist. X-rays positive.”

That made six on the injury list and since there was nothing else for it but to get on and play, Kyle did his best to encourage those Oxford players not yet in intensive care.

To their credit, the remaining Us tried to raise their game, to the delight of the large crowd. The Hatters were on the back foot for much of the second half.

One player who didn’t seem terribly interested in participating was the formerly in-form Hoskins, which Kyle found more than a bit surprising. O’Dowda, who had also enjoyed a run of good form in the team’s recent string of success, was also not having his best day and in search of a late winner, Kyle pulled both players in 77 minutes.

On came Godden, who hadn’t been any great shakes in his previous appearances but who was itching to get out there and prove himself, and Rose, who looked a better option than the pedestrian O’Dowda on the left flank.

But even that didn’t help. Luton were a strong and resilient side and the large crowd left mumbling – not dissatisfied by any stretch with the draw against higher-placed opposition, but still some ways short of the five-star performance Kyle knew was more likely to bring them back in the future.

Oxford United: Ashdown: Whing, Dunkley, Wright (captain), Potts, Mullins (inj, Ssewankambo 45), MacDonald, Maddison, O’Dowda (Rose 77), Hoban, Hoskins (Godden 77). Unused subs: Clarke, Grimshaw, Long, Collins.

Oxford United 1 (Hoban 37)
Luton Town 1 (Nathan Oduwa 46)
H/T: 1-0
A – 9,332, The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Man of the Match: Cheyenne Dunkley, Oxford (MR 8.3)

Kyle was trying to be brave, but he was having a hard time hiding his frustration.

These weren’t just injuries, they were long-term injuries to key players. Mulins, Hylton, Skarz and Meades all meant something to the team in very important ways and all four of them were out for at least a month – and longer in the case of the first three.

“You have to be proud of the way the other players held things together against a good opponent,” Vic said in a moment of prescience.

“I’m very proud,” Kyle responded. “From the beginning I’ve said that the players have bought into what we are teaching tactically and they have done a wonderful job. I’m disappointed that we couldn’t find three points for the fans today but given the adversity we are facing we have to be happy with the point we got.”

“You’re starting to sound like a diplomat,” Vic said.

“Mind your tongue,” Kyle responded, with just the hint of a smile.

The injury list was daunting:

Matt Bevans (thigh strain, one week)
Jeremy Balmy (knee strain, two weeks)
Jon Meades (ankle, one month)
Johnny Mullins (broken wrist, two months)
Danny Hylton (hip injury, two months)
Joe Skarz (hip injury, two to three months)

Things were so bad that Kyle had to cancel a planned loan of striker John Campbell, who was rotting in the reserves while making £41,000 a season, to Barnet because he was now needed for squad cover and Godden’s loan was going to expire in a few weeks. Kyle hadn’t decided whether to keep Godden or not so he needed warm bodies.

Calling the Us ‘paper thin’ would have been kind.

As Kyle met Eales and a few selected fans and board members in the Christchurch Suite after the match for a drink, he received another great surprise. This was much less welcome.

While discussing the match, Kyle enjoyed that usual pleasant moment when Jenna arrived to spend some time with her dad. But this time, she was in the company of a young man.

They entered holding hands, and Kyle reacted when he saw the boy’s identity.

Kyle recognized him.

His name was Miles Booth, and he was a defender on Oxford’s u-18 team.

Just caught up on this, great writing as ever. Personally I think Kyle should stick it to Stacy and get with Allison.

Josh, thanks, mate! Been awhile since any of my pieces got a comment, it's nice to know you and hopefully some others are still reading. Your kind words are appreciated!
___

The couple approached and young Booth reacted with a start when he saw his date’s father standing next to the chairman.

Kyle wasn’t sure how Booth had managed a pass into the luxury suite - though Jenna had one as a matter of course. Kyle figured his daughter had managed to sweet-talk someone in the front office into issuing an extra pass.

Booth didn’t lack for confidence. A fairly slight boy of seventeen, he stood about five foot seven and weighed about 130 pounds. His game was speed, and surely he had made a bold and fast move in this case.

He had wavy brown hair which he wore short and brown eyes and features that could be described as soft. His thin nose and dimples on both cheeks were evidence enough of that. Jenna couldn’t take her eyes off him, even as she stood next to her father.

Eales took things with good grace, smiling at Kyle’s discomfiture. And he was significantly uncomfortable.

He had figured Jenna had found a friend. But this kind of friend was a bit hard to take.

For his part, Booth regained his quiet confidence after his initial surprise, and as the group broke up for a moment, he approached.

He figured he had to say something.

“Hello, boss,” he said, with Jenna in tow.

Kyle’s gaze seemed to pierce the boy’s eyes and bore into the wall behind him.

“I admire a man with courage,” he replied.

Jenna intervened. “Now, Dad, don’t be hard on Miles, please,” she said, and Kyle immediately saw an issue he had to correct.

Ordinarily he would honor Jenna’s request – but in front of a player over whom he held absolute professional sway, he dared not show that kind of weakness.

“I’m not,” he said, and then added the only thing he could say.

“Mr. Booth, I’m going to assume your intentions are honorable and I assure you that if they are not, you’ve got trouble you surely do not want.”

“I understand, boss,” Booth responded, but he also didn’t drop his gaze. Kyle wasn’t certain whether to interpret that as a challenge or not but soon thought that if the boy wanted to keep his place at Oxford United he wouldn’t behave in such a manner.

Jenna watched the interplay between her father and her friend with amusement. Kyle noticed that too and, as gently as he could, returned the conversation to where he wanted it, which was on his daughter.

“Did you enjoy the match, Jenna?” he asked.

“You needed to find another goal,” she replied, and Kyle couldn’t fault her attitude since he felt the same way.

But as the conversation turned more banal, Kyle thought about the state of his personal life.

Stacy was gone, pregnant, and evidently had someone else in her life. His daughter, for whom he would move heaven and earth, had someone that, at least for the time being, interested her more than time with her dad.

And Kyle? Well, he felt alone. Horribly alone.

Booth's a right slick git!