[FM15] Raising Cain

Tranmere had defeated Northampton by a goal to nil at Sixfields as the teams immediately in front of the Us played each other – with Tranmere opening a five-point lead for the final playoff spot.

“I can’t fault them,” Kyle told the press after the match.

Churchill, for his part, was not there. Kyle was very glad to see Vic.

“I can’t fault them,” he repeated. “Right now the lads are being much harder on themselves for conceding at the end than I ever could have been on them. There are times for a manager to crack the whip on his players. This is not one of them.”

“How disappointed are you at the draw?” That was Vic.

“Well, I’m not as upset as I’ve been after some other setbacks, because Plymouth is a quality side and deserved at least a draw based on how they played,” he answered. “But we were in a winning position and we coughed up two points on a set piece that we really should have got defended. That is the disappointing part, more than anything else. Good players are going to make good plays and you have to accept that, but a team trying to get where we want to go has to get that set piece defended, and so we’re going to work on that.”

“Other results didn’t go your way, either.”

“We can only control what we do,” Kyle said, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair in frustration. He had wished it otherwise. “Leaving points on the pitch doesn’t help us. But there’s still time left and we still have matches remaining against both the teams above us in the playoff hunt.”

“So you’re optimistic.”

“There’s no reason not to be optimistic, and believe me, if there were a reason, I’d find it,” Kyle smiled. “But honestly, with points out there against the teams above us, we still control a measure of our own destiny and we just need to keep our performances up and see what happens.”

With that the media gaggle broke up and Kyle started back to his office.

“Kyle, wait,” Vic said, and the manager stopped and turned to face the reporter.

“I’m glad you came out onto the pitch when you did today. You might have guessed that the song you heard was for you.”

“I wondered,” he said, wondering what the reporter was getting at.

Vic Young sighed and got down to the point.

“That was by Allison’s request,” she said. “I arranged it. We both felt very badly for you after Bill’s article last week and she just wanted you to have something nice.”

She had said that before. Kyle wondered if he really could believe it.

But I’m still married, he thought to himself. As bug’s-ear-cute as Allison Austin was, he had to keep reminding himself of that. And he needed to talk to someone special to him before he entertained any other thoughts along those lines.

The decision wasn’t easy. And he knew that if he would only wait, the decision would soon be made for him.

Yet Kyle Cain was not a patient man. He wanted results and he wanted them now. He looked at Vic, and didn’t know what to tell her.

“She likes you a lot, Kyle,” Vic finally said. She tossed her hair back over her shoulders and smiled at him. “I can tell you that much, even as a journalist. She thinks you’re a good man and that you’ve done your penance, if you will. She’s doing everything but wave a flag at you to show you she wants to care about you.”

“That’s fine,” Kyle finally said. “Caring is one thing. A relationship is quite another, especially for me and especially with your co-worker evidently staring over my shoulder waiting to write something in the papers. I can’t have that for a number of reasons.”

“I understand that,” Vic said, “and I’m the very soul of discretion. But you needed to know because Allison wanted you to know. I’m her friend, and off the pitch I consider myself to be your friend as well. So I’m doing the duty.”

Kyle had to smile at that, and wondered why Vic never mentioned having a boyfriend of her own. He quickly decided that was none of his business, and the two parted on good terms.

He walked down the hall to his office, sat behind his desk and noted with satisfaction that the scouts had placed both a DVD of the match just completed and a DVD of Hartlepool side-by-side on his desk blotter. Pools had won 2-1 at Morecambe and Kyle wanted to know how the visitors had won for the first time in ten matches.

“She likes me,” Kyle mused. “But my work is never done.”

Boyd Stokes was having the time of his life.

That article in the Oxford newspaper had affirmed him, so to speak, without naming him. He liked Stacy Cain just fine, and he liked that he could get what he needed without consequence.

The library manager had a lot on his mind these days. He enjoyed Stacy’s company immensely, especially at night, but he was troubled that the baby growing inside her wasn’t his.

It was that guy’s. That Kyle Cain jerkweed.

Well, Stacy had just made a mistake, and even though she wanted to keep the child, he wasn’t pleased.

They woke up together on the Wednesday morning and nobody was saying anything about them coming to work together when they did so. There were only a few people who knew that Stacy was married prior to the article – but when the piece in the Mail had received national attention through the scandal sheets, suddenly some opinions of Mrs. Cain changed.

Friends weren’t always as friendly. Voices were quieter. People gave that extra look they sometimes give when they think they’re looking for something.

Only in this case, they were. Stacy, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as happy as Boyd.

They sat having lunch in the library’s break room and Stacy looked at her paramour.

“You don’t look like you’re too upset by this,” Stacy said.

Boyd took a bite of his sandwich, dabbed at his mouth with a napkin hung from his shirt collar, and looked at her.

“No, I’m not,” he said.

“May I ask why?” She looked at him with a searching gaze, trying to read his thoughts. “Is it because you weren’t in the article yourself?”

He frowned. “Stacy, I’m surprised you’d ask such a thing,” he said. “Really, look at it this way. These things pass. If you want to be around me, I’m here. Clearly you don’t want that clot you’re married to, so if you want to be with me and give that baby you’re having a real shot at a good life, here I am. That newspaper stuff will pass.”

“Are you not the least bit concerned about my reputation?” she asked. “You say you want to be with me. Well, if you’re with public enemy number one, how will that reflect on you, Mister Upwardly Mobile Manager?”

Boyd looked at Stacy and wiggled his eyebrows. That unnerved her, but he was trying to make a point.

“You’ll note that I’m not concerned,” Stokes said. “I mentioned it before and I’ll be happy to keep doing it. Sooner or later this will all go away, you’ll have your life back and if you want me, I’m not going anywhere.”

Stacy admired his calm demeanor almost as much as she admired some of his other skills. That was a delicate way to put it, but in her mind there was no comparison between her husband and this kind, affectionate gentleman who sat across the break room table.

“Well, that’s certainly reassuring,” she said, smiling at him sweetly.

He rose from his side of the table.

“I need to get back to work,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Just you remember what I’ve said, Stacy. I’m there for you and he’s not. And sooner or later it will all be done and dusted.”

He left the room, closing the door behind him, and Stacy sat back in her chair, cupping her chin in her hand.

“Maybe he’s right in more ways than one,” she said aloud. “I deserve a chance to be happy too.”

“How would I react? How do you think I’d react?”

Jenna sat across from her father at dinner. Kyle had asked a question that he thought was a stupid one. Sometimes his intuition was perfect.

“No, Dad, you may not date that woman.”

“You know the papers say your mom wants out.”

“They’re newspapers,” Jenna responded with a tinge of frustration. “Are they my mother? Do they answer for her? I asked her whether she was leaving. Did you?”

“Yes,” Kyle responded, trying to stay patient.

“And what did she say?”

“She said she didn’t know anything about the article and had not filed papers.”

“There you are, then. If neither of you have filed, that’s the end of the discussion.”

“She’s doing it.”

“And so did you,” she reminded him, for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

“And I quit, in case you missed that, Kyle said.

“When you got caught.”

“I give up,” Kyle said, finishing a cup of coffee. “Everyone gets to be happy but me, I guess.”

“Don’t poormouth yourself,” Jenna said simply. “I know you’ve tried to make things up to everyone but we still have rules, you know. And you’re asking me if I’d mind very much if you broke them. The answer is yes, I’d mind very much.”

“What would you like me to do?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’d like you to get back together with Mom,” she said.

Kyle laughed. Out loud. Too loudly, as it appeared.

“The woman has another man,” he said. “And unlike my situation, it’s known all over the damned country that she has another man and nothing’s been done about it. Do you seriously think she’s interested in trying?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna admitted. “But I want my parents living together. Is that too much to ask?”

Kyle shrugged his shoulders.

“Ask your mother,” he said. “She seems to have all the answers.”

With that, Kyle went back to the sitting room and went back to work. At least there, nobody could question him. Usually.

There was a note from Chris Allen, the u-18s manager, raving about Guy Barry, one of the players from the youth intake. He had scored for the u-18s after netting three times against them in his trial. Already on a youth contract, the boy seemed to be able to find the net.

This was a good thing, but it didn’t immediately solve a problem Kyle had up front. With Hylton still a solid month from returning, Godden was the only realistic option as a spare striker and he was looking clueless.

James Roberts was the next option – the eighteen-year old striker off the youth team had netted five times in nine appearances for them and frankly, couldn’t have been any worse than Godden had been against Argyle.

So Kyle decided to put him on the bench for Hartlepool. The text to the striker telling him to meet the manager before training was returned immediately and the boy sounded excited. As well he should have.

He also told Godden to meet him before training, and that wasn’t received quite as well. Both players knew why they were meeting the manager and it was a lot more difficult for one player than for the other.

17 March 2015 – Oxford United (15-9-12, 9th place) v Hartlepool United (9-12-15, 19th place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #37 – The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Referee: Chris Kavanagh

The crowd was down, again, for the second straight home match, as it usually was after the team didn’t perform. The Kassam was far less than half full for the visit of Pools and Kyle had given up trying to figure out why a playoff contending side couldn’t draw better at home.

The only way to increase the crowds was through success. But Oxford hadn’t played particularly well at home in recent weeks, winning only one of its last four on home turf. That didn’t help.

It was hard to fathom how a credible draw against the second-placed team in the league qualified as poor performance, but it evidently had an effect on the home gate.

A gametime drizzle didn’t help matters either. Kyle put on weather gear as the team prepared for warm-ups and the manager thought his changes through.

This was an important match and he had made a couple of potentially significant moves. Ashdown had lost his place since the team hadn’t kept a clean sheet in five straight matches, so Clarke was reinstalled in goal. Grimshaw returned at right full back, and Dunkley replaced Whing on the backline.

Whing didn’t leave the team, though – he moved up to the holding position in place of Ssewankambo, with no other changes forward of that spot on the pitch. Those players had, for the most part, earned their chance to play and kept their places through strong play. There was no harm in that.

But once the match started, Hartlepool dropped into a 5-3-2 and dared Oxford to find a way through. While Kyle and Fazackerley digested that bit of news, Jake Wright hit Ryan Manning hard with a shoulder, giving away a free kick just outside the area, which Manning proceeded to ring off Clarke’s crossbar with a truly wicked set piece that was just a hair too high.

Maddison got the home team into the match shortly after, springing Hoskins with a backheel pass that was a thing of beauty. His shot was saved by keeper Jon Maxted, and the rebound rolled obligingly to Hoban – who missed the net.

“Just shoot me,” Kyle moaned, leaning back in his chair in frustration. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Fazackerley smiled and cuffed Kyle on the arm. “It happens, you know,” the deputy said and obviously Kyle couldn’t disagree.

From that point, the match degenerated, and that was a kind word to use. Nicky Featherstone laid out Whing with a shoulder barge while going after a 50-50 ball that had the midfielder collecting his wits on the turf for a few moments, aided to the touchline by the training staff.

While he was gone, Manning broke through on goal with Oxford playing with ten, and only a marvelous save by Clarke kept the match scoreless.

Darren Holden whipped in a corner in 35 minutes that gave the defense a spot of bother, but once Dunkley had cleared the lines, Oxford surged forward in full counter-attack mode. The ball wound up to the right with MacDonald laying a ball over for the diagonal run of Hoban, who was headed away from goal for some reason. But, his cross wasn’t, and neither was Hoskins, who slipped his marker to volley home in 36 minutes to put Oxford in front.

The frozen chosen in the stands roared as one, perhaps for warmth as much as anything else, and Kyle headed to the touchline, wrapped up in a tracksuit and scarf against the March wind. It wasn’t a pleasant day to be outside, as the needle-like rain felt like darts against his face.

Hoban tested Maxted just before half and Chris Kavanagh blew for halftime just before everyone’s fingers froze.

“Gritty, men,” Kyle said, as he walked back and forth across the front of the room while the players got warm. “Another half like that and you will earn your three points today. Don’t let them back into the match, especially not with five at the back, yeah?”

Lewis Hawkins, who had run into the Whing in first half injury time with both players needing the trainer, came off for Hartlepool, while Whing, who had taken a couple of hard knocks in the half, couldn’t continue and left in favor of Ssewankambo.

Grimshaw wound up in the book after only four minutes of the second half for a foul on Manning that could best be described as “thorough”, and while it sent a message, defenders on yellow cards wasn’t great thought fodder for a manager.

Jerell Sellers, who had been invisible for Pools in the first half, made his presence felt in the second by putting an artfully placed effort barely wide of Clarke’s right post and into the side netting in 53 minutes, but it was apparent that the visitors had a new lease on life.

Then Hoskins, of all people, made a crunching challenge on defender Neil Austin, who had to come off, limiting Pools’ substitution pattern through their second injury of the match.

But Oxford was getting no purchase on the attacking end of things, and that was a bit worrisome. Hoskins had a tight-angle shot in 55 minutes that was easily held by the keeper – and that was just about it.

Hoban finally came off in 73 minutes just as Wright went into the book for a richly-deserved booking after nearly sending Manning into the stand with a trip that sent the striker flying.

For a moment Kyle wondered if the captain would see red, couldn’t argue with the Hartlepool staff suggesting that might be a good idea, and breathed a sigh of relief when the card was only a yellow.

Hoban came off in favor of Meades and both Jonathan Franks and Brad Walker tested Clarke soon after. But the veteran keeper had all the answers – and then O’Dowda made his bid.

His slashing effort in the Hartlepool area beat Maxted but not Tommy Miller, who hacked the drive off the line with a great reflex effort in 79 minutes.

There was one more card for Pools to play – veteran striker Marlon Harewood came on to try to find a late equalizer. Yet his effort was thrown off its stroke by a fine play from Dunkley, who got just enough of the 35-year old’s body with a shoulder charge to both be within the rules and effective, stripping possession from the former West Ham man.

Moments later, it was over. It had been ugly. But it was three points that Oxford really needed to keep place with the playoff contenders.

Oxford United: Clarke: Grimshaw, Wright (captain, Bevans 86), Dunkley, Potts, Whing (Ssewankambo 45), MacDonald, Maddison, O’Dowda, Hoban (Meades 74), Hoskins. Unused subs; Ashdown, Ruffels, Balmy, Roberts.

Oxford United 1 (Hoskins 36)
Hartlepool United 0
H/T: 1-0
A – 4,901, The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Man of the Match: James Maddison, Oxford (MR 7.9)
GUMP: Will Hoskins

“Sometimes you have to win ugly.”

Kyle talked to the press – with Churchill watching intently – and showed his relief at gutting out a win where his team hadn’t played particularly well.

“We weren’t at our best,” he admitted. “But you can’t always be five-star and I was happy for the lads finding a way to win today.”

“How do you feel about the trip to Shrewsbury coming up?” That was Churchill, venturing to speak, and Kyle looked at him with a level expression.

“We have a tough match against the second-placed team in our league,” Kyle answered. “We will have our hands full and we know that.”

It felt odd to be talking to Churchill, especially after the article, from a standpoint of trust. There was still plenty of bad blood between the two men, but he had a credential that someone in the Oxford front office had given him so Kyle’s hands were tied.

“Any more fallout over the singing in Bury?”

“No, unless you were thinking of stirring some up.” That made the reporter blanch and Kyle noted that his words had struck home.

Kyle thought it through for a moment. “You know, I’m going to make discussion of that story or anything about my family an off-limits topic,” he said. “I have that right. If you people want to talk about football that’s fine, go ahead, talk about football, but I need some space to deal with these issues. Bill, you will ruin it for everyone else if you cross that line again.”

Kyle was asking the press to discipline itself, something it is notoriously bad at doing. He didn’t expect it would have any serious effect, but it was all he could do to protect himself.

Besides, Jenna had been clear. And, she had been right. Kyle wasn’t going to get himself in any more trouble. He couldn’t afford that, and Jenna still held great sway over Kyle, even though she was spending more and more time with Miles and less and less time at home. They were getting serious.

For his part, Miles hadn’t let his relationship with Jenna affect how he was playing. That was good.

The problem was that he wasn’t any great shakes. That was bad.

Kyle faced a dilemma. There were better players than Miles in the youth system and the discussion had already been held with the board about who to release from the youth setup. Miles’ name was on the list, and Kyle had insisted that football matters take precedence over personal matters. He had to walk the walk as well as talk the talk to be fair to all his players, and he intended to do so.

But finding a way to tell the player, and his daughter, that changes were coming was going to be a difficult thing.

There was better news for another young player though – Ssewankambo was called up to Sweden’s u-21 side for matches against Denmark and Norway on the 26th and 30th of March. He would miss the Carlisle match on the 28th but he deserved the opportunity to play for his country.

That news was much better to deliver and the midfielder had a comparatively rare smile on his face after hearing it. Kyle had had some minor difficulty in motivating the player in recent weeks and he knew this would help quite a bit.

It seemed to Kyle that the only person unhappy in his life was himself.

The results had been great. Professionally, he was starting to feel vindicated. But personally, life was not good.

He was lonely. The most important person in his life had someone she was more interested in spending time with, and so Kyle immersed himself in his football. That was great during the daylight hours and even during most of his evenings when he could concentrate on video, but when the lights went out and sleep would not come, he would stare at the ceiling and wish things were different.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea, as much as I’d like to.”

Kyle sat at the Swan and Castle across the table from Allison. Her look of concern was touching but from her point of view, not effective.

She wore her hair up, and looked fantastic. Kyle couldn’t help but smile – he had smiled even less than Ssewankambo in recent weeks – and she was trying very hard.

“Look, we don’t have to sleep together or anything,” she said. “It’s not like that. I just want to try to take away some of the loneliness you’ve got. And don’t kid yourself or me, Kyle, I know you’ve got those feelings.”

“Of course I do, but …”

“…but what?” Allison looked at Kyle with a wide-eyed expression of frustration.

“…well, if you’ll let me finish,” Kyle said, smiling again. “Allison, I really enjoy your company and I’d love more of it but given my past and what happened to my family the last time, it’s not a good idea. And my daughter is dead set against it.”

“I see,” she said, looking down into her drink. “And you need to be free before she will allow you to have a friend?”

“I think she was thinking it would turn into more than that,” Kyle said.

“Because she has no idea who I am or what I want,” Allison complained. “Really, Kyle, I do understand, but it’s your life, not hers. You’re the one who’s miserable when you aren’t at work, you’re the one who feels like a personal failure. I want to help with that. Why don’t you see that?”

“I do see it,” Kyle sighed. “I wish you could understand. I would love to be your friend, though. I think I’m allowed that.”

Allison reached across the table and touched Kyle’s hand.

“You’re allowed nice things,” she repeated. “And one of those things you’re allowed is me, you know. I’m willing to wait but I want you to understand that no one controls your happiness except for you. You can make this whatever you want, and you can do so without fear or guilt. You know that.”

Kyle didn’t know that, truth be told. When he had tried to be happy in his life, it had blown up in his face. When he even wanted to be happy, someone always felt they could stand in his way.

He had let them.

He looked down into his drink – his fourth of the night, so his faculties were starting to slip – and once again berated himself.

I hate myself, he thought. It was a recurring theme. He had that thought every morning, like clockwork, upon awakening, and used it to drive himself to succeed.

He hated himself. He hated Moore. He hated his circumstance. He hated that he didn’t trust his chairman, who was only trying to do what he thought was best.

So much hate. So much failure, even in the midst of seeming success.

He had let it all happen. To himself and to others.

And here was a wonderful lady who was trying to show him that something good could still come out of his life that had nothing to do with goals and tactics and offside traps.

It had to do with Kyle Cain as a human being. That was the thing nobody seemed to care about – at least, not until now.

“Allison, what do I do?” he asked. As beautiful as she was and as much as he liked the way she treated him, he felt like he was bottoming out.

“The first thing we do is try to figure out how to beat this depression you’ve got,” she said. “And I’m willing to help if you’re willing to be helped. It has to start with you.”

Kyle squeezed Allison’s hand. As he looked into her blue eyes, he couldn’t help but cry.

21 March 2015 – Shrewsbury Town (22-6-9, 2nd place) v Oxford United (16-9-12, 9th place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #38 – Greenhous Meadow, Shrewsbury
Referee: Chris Foy

This was a best-two-of-three match for Kyle.

Shrewsbury had knocked Oxford out of the FA Cup early in his tenure and Oxford had gotten sweet revenge in the league a few weeks later. This was the third match between the clubs during Kyle’s tenure and this time it meant plenty to both.

Shrewsbury entered the match chasing Portsmouth for top spot and hoping to hold onto an automatic promotion position. Oxford entered the match chasing the playoff spots and looking to take a big scalp at home.

Kyle was also pleased at the weather, which showed a slight warming trend and, since spring was literally just around the corner, a bit of sun as well. He wanted the chance to take Shrewsbury’s measure on their home turf, as a good crowd showed up at Greenhous Meadow for a match that had received no small amount of publicity in the local press.

Town looked different, especially up front – loanee Moussa Dembelé from Fulham gave them a real menacing presence up front with nine goals in twenty matches, and he had been absent through injury the last time the teams had met.

He and Irishman James Collins were joint scoring leaders entering the match and Kyle knew his men would have to get them both accounted for.

The pre-match video workup had focused on the strikers, and the rather unusual 5-2-1-2 they used. There would be lots of space on the flanks to work with, but Micky Mellon’s tactic gave his team the best of both worlds – five at the back and two strikers.

Yet the way O’Dowda and MacDonald had been playing, Kyle couldn’t help but think that Mellon was playing with fire. Both of them were among the best wingers in League Two and had played like it over the last two months, so there was reason for some professional optimism from Kyle as the match began.

That was why it was so difficult to listen to the home fans cheering after only seven minutes when the defenders couldn’t find Dembelé on a flurry in the box.

His long run down the left flank was matched stride for stride by Grimshaw, but Fulham beat Manchester United to the ball in the Oxford box. Grimshaw eventually forced Dembelé to square for Aaron Wildig, whose low shot was blocked by Clarke at feet. Unfortunately, the ball headed straight back to Dembelé, Grimshaw lost his man and Wright was occupied with Wildig, and with the keeper down the teenager had nothing but net to shoot at.

It was the perfect start for Mellon, with Oxford chasing the game inside the first ten minutes. Kyle reacted calmly, even though on the inside he was a mess.

He thought to the meme website hadonejob.com, which posts pictures of situations where the person detailed had “one job” and didn’t do it. The defenders had one job – stop Moussa Dembelé – and it had taken less than ten minutes to throw that assignment straight out the window.

Yet it was too early for Kyle to change tactic or alignment, so he let the players play, with a gentle reminder that it would be easier to find number twenty-seven in blue with their heads on their shoulders instead of lodged in their present location – and things settled down to a more acceptable tempo.

But the next two good chances both fell to Bobby Grant of Shrewsbury, who managed to put both of them wide of the goal. It didn’t make Kyle much happier, but at least the ball stayed out of the goal.

Oxford’s first foray of any note came in the 26th minute. Whing drove into the penalty area, rare enough for him these days, but was dispossessed by Cameron Gayle. The ball rolled to Maddison, and the midfielder looked to the right for the run of Grimshaw down the touchline.

One loanee found the other, and Grimshaw’s cross was right on the mark. O’Dowda had slipped his marker and had the easiest of finishes to get Oxford level with his eighth goal of the season.

They were being outplayed, but Oxford was level and that was what mattered. Shrewsbury proceeded to hammer the Us back into a defensive shell for the remainder of the half, with Mickey Demetriou coming close with a set piece hammered over the bar in 36 minutes.

That was all for the half, with referee Chris Foy sending the teams to the dressing room right on schedule.

Kyle gave the talk to Fazackerley after telling the players to stay the course. He didn’t want to press them too hard, with the match poised. It was a good talk – and things got better early in the second half.

That is to say, for everyone except Hoskins, who was the victim of a hard, two-footed challenge from captain Liam Lawrence.

Foy called Lawrence over and to the shock of everyone in blue, handed the skipper his marching orders with a straight red card.

Kyle could hardly believe his good fortune. The bench broke into smiles – Shrewsbury was now right where the Us wanted them to be – down a man and on the ropes.

He motioned to Hoban and Hoskins to move forward, pointing at his eyes – ‘be watching’ was the idea there – and the strikers both seemed to get the message.

Unfortunately for Oxford, there was precious little to watch. Surprisingly, playing against ten men, they couldn’t get possession or purchase when they had the ball. The match ticked past sixty … seventy … minutes, with no pressure of any kind.

It was like watching a kickabout, and Kyle’s words from the touchline to fire up the attack by getting creative fell on deaf ears. They were playing against ten, for crying out loud. What was wrong?

One of the problems was Maddison, which was frankly shocking given his excellent form for the team during Kyle’s tenure. He looked disinterested at times, not running hard, not tracking back and vitally, not linking play to the wings and forwards as he had done so brilliantly over the preceding four months.

James Maddison made Oxford go, and today he wasn’t ‘going’. As a result, neither was Oxford.

“Anyone’s entitled to a bad game, but what in the actual hell is wrong with Maddy today?” Kyle asked Fazackerley.

“He’s checked out,” the assistant manager noted, and Kyle racked his brain for ideas. The first one, of course, was to go to the touchline to try to light a fire under his midfielder, which he did with no small amount of verve.

But it didn’t matter. Maddison continued his indifferent play and Kyle got Rose up and running on the touchline to try to scare the player into losing his place.

The substitutions made, though, were of a different variety. Roberts made his Oxford debut – nervously – when Hoban went off with a knock in 76 minutes, and Ssewankambo came on for Wright with the captain knackered and fighting off the effects of an aerial challenge.

That didn’t help either – and disaster struck with ten minutes left when Demetriou ghosted in behind the Oxford defenders to volley home a simple cross ten minutes from time.

The ten men led 2-1 and Kyle was smoking mad on the touchline. He could perhaps excuse not finding a way through against ten determined men, but giving up a late goal to them was something he couldn’t abide.

Now Maddison’s play was necessary, not just optional, and Kyle couldn’t afford to take him off. He wrestled with the issue even as he brought Maddison forward and ordered a still-more attacking bent.

Nothing helped. Oxford had lost to ten men and missed a chance to pick up vital playoff ground.

It was going to be an interesting post-match discussion.

Oxford United: Clarke: Grimshaw, Wright (captain, Ssewankambo 76), Dunkley, Potts, Whing, MacDonald, Maddison, O’Dowda, Hoban (Roberts 76), Hoskins. Unused subs: Ashdown, Bevans, Meades, Ruffels, Rose.

Shrewsbury Town 2 (Moussa Dembelé 7, Liam Lawrence s/o 56, Mickey Demetriou 80)
Oxford United 1 (O’Dowda 26)
H/T: 1-1
A – 5,487, Greenhous Meadow, Shrewsbury
Man of the Match: Mickey Demetriou, Shrewsbury (MR 7.6)
GUMP: None

The news wasn’t good. Kyle elected to start with that.

“You know, I don’t care to lose games to ten men,” he began. “I know you weren’t fancied in this match but by God, when the game gives you a break, you have to take advantage. Do you know we didn’t have a single shot on target against ten men for half an hour?”

Most of the players stared sullenly into the floor. Nobody likes to be reminded that they’re pants, and that was especially true in this case. It was a very winnable match that hadn’t been won, and there would have to be a consequence for that.

“You know, nobody’s place is guaranteed in this team,” he warned. “If you don’t want to play, if you don’t want to make the effort, I will find players that do. You’ve done very well to get to this point but the lesson of today is that you play all the time, not just when you feel it’s convenient, not just when you want to. That team that beat you today had no business beating you – and yet they found a way. They found a way.”

He smacked a balled right fist into the palm of his left hand to emphasize his last three words. “Now, we’ve got Carlisle coming up in a week’s time and I’m going to set the bar high for that game before we even leave this room. Put this behind you as the crap that it was and figure out how you’re going to be better next week. Let’s get the post-match started.”

Kyle was unsparing to the media, and Churchill reacted with a smile. Now he was getting Kyle Cain at his very best, despite what he had written about him, because Kyle had something he wanted to say and he had only one person from that paper to whom he could say it.

Northampton had defeated Bury 2-1 at Gigg Lane to move up to eighth place. Stevenage had defeated a desperate Dag and Red team 2-1 at home to leapfrog Oxford into ninth place. And Tranmere had dropped points too – losing 2-0 at home to Burton Albion. The chance to stay with clubs and gain on the one in the place Kyle wanted had all been lost.

To ten men. It was embarrassing.

He also had a conversation with Maddison on the coach ride home. When the boss calls a player to his seat on the bus, it’s news, but Kyle did it.

Maddison hadn’t played horribly. But he had played far, far below his usual standard.

Kyle knew that Maddison didn’t care for hard training. Well, that was too bad – his job was to work hard and become a better footballer, not try to tell his manager he was being worked too hard. That discussion was held too, and Kyle tried to be as gentle as he could.

“I know you and Cheyenne don’t like the training levels,” Kyle said. “I get that. But there is a minimum standard that has to be met and you need to understand and accept that in exchange for your place in the team. Which, by the way, is under threat after today. If you want to play against Carlisle, I need you to get your head down and start working hard. I didn’t see a lot of that from you today.”

“I just didn’t have a good match, boss,” Maddison said sullenly. “But really, you want to take my place in the team?”

“If you can’t show me you want to hold onto it, I have no choice,” Kyle said. “I can accept poor performance if it’s made with effort. But what I saw today was poor performance without effort. You might be tired, you might have things going on that are your business and no one else’s, but when you have the club’s shirt on, I need you out there and engaged. We are a much better side when you do that than we are when you don’t.”

Maddison returned to his seat with something to think about, and Kyle looked at his phone to catch up on the latest news.

Dag and Red had hired Eoin Jess as manager before their match against Stevenage but to no avail – the Daggers were still second bottom in the table and looking for answers while running out of time. He felt for managers in that situation, having been there himself – and failing – just a year ago.

Chelsea nabbed Jürgen Klopp to replace Jose Mourinho, in what was perhaps the worst-kept secret in football. The German, who speaks four languages fluently, was being brought in to teach a fifth language – winning – to players who had forgotten how to speak it in recent weeks.

As he flipped through the football websites, his text message light went on.

It was from Allison.

“Tough loss today, Kyle,” she wrote. “Meet you for dinner tomorrow?”

He thought through everything he and Allison – and he and Jenna – had discussed over the preceding few days, and texted her back.

“Name the place,” he said.

# # #

Training for Carlisle had been, to use a polite word, rigorous.

Kyle had said after the Plymouth match that there were times to crack the whip on a team but that that particular match hadn’t been one of them.

He felt that the aftermath of the Shrewsbury match was. He could handle an away setback against a good side – but the aspect of losing to ten men was galling to him. He couldn’t shake that out of his mind, and even though he couldn’t alter the training plan, he wanted some way to try to reinforce that home truth to his players.

What he came up with was to turn the six-on-six drills often done at the end-of-training into six-on-five drills for one week. It didn’t take the players long to see that one of the teams was short a man, and that got them thinking.

The manager wasn’t going to let go of that particular disappointment and he really didn’t care who knew it.

He even met Moore’s eyes head-on. That took a bit of doing, especially after the nose-rubbings they had delivered to each other. Now it was her turn, as the open dislike of one key employee for the other really came to the surface.

For her part, though, Moore did a fine job promoting the club. She didn’t let her personal dispute with Kyle interfere with the quality of her work, and that was vital for her. Obviously, a team atmosphere was desired but the uneasy truce between the two was holding even after the disappointment at Cheltenham.

The table didn’t look so hot for Oxford now – five points back with eight matches to play, and some difficult opponents coming up:

28 March – Carlisle (21st place)
4 April - @ Wycombe (4th place)
6 April – York (19th place)
11 April - @ AFC Wimbledon (13th place)
14 April – Northampton (8th place)
18 April - @ Tranmere (7th place)
25 April – Cambridge (14th place)
2 May - @ Newport County (12th place)

Kyle knew that the team’s playoff fate would be decided in mid-April, with back-to-back matches against Northampton and Tranmere, but the two matches in three days against Wycombe and York would be telling.

The Wycombe match was interesting in that it was the only match in League Two scheduled for the Saturday. The rebound match against York meant they would play with an extremely tight turn and as such a squad rotation was inevitable. Wycombe wasn’t any happier – the second leg of their two-in-three-days spell was away to Burton, so they had travel to figure into their equation as well. Nigel Worthington’s men had claimed the scalps of Tranmere and Stevenage in successive matches and they were playing well.

It was going to take some man-management to make all this work. And with Maddison in a blue funk, that task wasn’t made any easier.

Kyle knew that Maddison, as excellent as he had been, couldn’t keep his place for Carlisle until he snapped out of that funk. He was supportive of the midfielder, even going to far as to praise his training. That didn’t go well either, as Maddison simply told him that he felt he lacked support in his training desires.

So they were back at square one.

He did meet Allison for dinner, and it had gone well. He was frightened of Churchill, though, and knew that there were probably spies around town who would like nothing better than to make a quick tenner by calling some information line to make his life even more miserable.

Kyle went so far as to warn Allison that she might wind up in the papers for the sole reason that she had been seen in public with him. That was sad, but it was true. And, she didn’t care.

“I’m your friend and I’m going to stay your friend,” she insisted.

So it was that Kyle reached midweek on Wednesday with a good match plan installed for Carlisle and decided, for once, to knock off early.

It felt nice to be leaving the office when everyone else was still at work. Usually, it was the other way around. The day had been warm and fair and Kyle drove with the window down, just enjoying the coming of spring.

As he neared home, he saw Miles Booth driving his old Vauxhall toward him. The defender took a sharp turn to the left and headed down a side street.

That didn’t seem right. He pulled over into a service station and took out his mobile phone. The call he made was to Chris Allen.

The u-18s boss answered on the second ring. Smart man, Chris, he’d make a good manager someday.

“Chris, it’s Kyle,” the manager said. “Did Miles come to training today?”

“No, he didn’t,” Allen answered. “Came down with flu. Told him to stay home. Why do you ask?”

“Well, he didn’t stay home,” Kyle said. “I’m pretty sure he was at my place during training today. Which means both he and my daughter, if she’s there right now, have some explaining to do. Thank you.”

He hung up the phone and finished his drive home. He arrived to find Jenna sat on the couch watching television.

“You and I need to talk,” Kyle said by way of greeting.

Jenna’s face went pale in response.

“You aren’t in school,” Kyle said.

It wasn’t the start Jenna had expected to the conversation – yet Kyle had done that deliberately. He wanted to watch her reaction – and he got the reaction he expected.

She gave a momentary frown of confusion.

“There’s also something else that probably happened here today that I am not best pleased with,” Kyle said. “You can save yourself a bit of difficulty, and your boyfriend’s status at Oxford United, if you tell me what happened.”

Gone was the timid Kyle Cain who would let Jenna tell him how to be happy. Now he was an angry father and he was looking for answers.

“Nothing happened,” she insisted. “I did skip school today though, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t feel well this morning – probably was well enough to go but I didn’t, and so yes, I skipped school.”

“So if I walk around this place and look for certain items that I might be thinking I’ll find, I won’t find them?” he asked.

“How dare you,” Jenna began, her eyes flashing.

“How dare I? Kyle shot back. "I have a player who skips training who I pass while he is heading away from my place, where I find my daughter who has skipped school. I’m not going to be put off here and I’m not going to be held to ransom. What you do with your personal life is your own business because you’re at the age of consent, but I’m not happy as your father that you feel the need to see him during the day, under my roof, without telling me.”

“You didn’t set a very good example,” she said.

Kyle grew red in the face.

“I’m out of patience with that argument,” he said. “That was years ago. Your mother is now the one who’s setting the poor example – I’m not setting a poor example by your request. Now, Jenna, I love you like nothing else on earth but there are times when I need to act like your dad, because you’re under my roof. If you were here with him today I need to know about it because I need to sanction him.”

He paused while his daughter thought it through.

“And I’m going to have exactly the same conversation with Miles when we get done here, and his answers really do need to match yours,” he said. “I’m angry enough to tear up his contract over this and you need to know that too.”

“What if I didn’t live under your roof?” Jenna asked.

“Don’t even go there,” Kyle warned. “Why don’t you just admit you were wrong, come clean and we start over? I have no problem with that. But I’m going to insist on knowing what happened.”

Jenna’s attempt at bravado fell on its face. She was not quite seventeen, not capable of living on her own and scared. She had been caught and she knew it.

“All right,” she finally said. “Miles and I planned a day at home. He was here.”

“And?”

“And yes, to answer your question that you aren’t asking,” she said. “We did. That’s my business, really, but yes.”

“That is your business, but I’ll tell you something about what you’ve just done,” Kyle said. He sat down next to his daughter on the couch, and took her hand.

“You’ve made a choice that will affect you for the rest of your life, because he was your first,” he said. “These are the kinds of things that you’ll remember forever. I remember, and I also remember what happened to me through my own stupidity. Like it or not, you need to live with this choice – just like I need to live with mine. Now, if Miles is the one for you, great. But if he’s not, you are going to think about this for the rest of your life and try not to regret it. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

Jenna nodded. She had expected Kyle to go through the roof. When he didn’t, it had taken her by surprise.

“Dad, thank you for understanding,” she finally said.

Kyle squeezed her hand.

“Understanding goes both ways,” he replied. “You should try it sometime.”

With that, Kyle got up, went into the kitchen and started to make dinner. His mind was spinning, but for a change he felt like he was in some kind of control of events.

Miles was fortunate to keep his contract for missing training. He hadn’t been sick, of course, and the only thing that stayed Kyle’s hand was the feelings his daughter had had for him. Against his better judgment, Kyle kept him at Oxford – for the time being.

That said, making the decision to not renew his contract had not been difficult, and as such there was a lot of angst inside the manager as he knew that instead of terminating the young man’s deal immediately, he was merely extending it for another six weeks until the end of the season.

The next morning, Miles couldn’t even look at Kyle as he sat across from him in the boss’ office.

The wood grain on his desk only separated the two by about two and a half feet but it felt a lot longer to the defender. Chris Allen was the third man in the room, and he didn’t look best pleased either.

The defender wore his Oxford track top and underneath it, was dressed for training. Kyle wore the same suit, but under it he wore a golf shirt to take advantage of another glorious day in Oxfordshire.

One was much more comfortable than the other, and he wasn’t even wearing short pants.

“You’re being fined your week’s wages for missing training and it if happens again I’m terminating your contract on the spot,” Kyle said.

Booth nodded glumly.

“And you remember what I told you about Ollie the Ox, Miles?” Kyle asked when Allen had left the room. “I need you to tell me why I shouldn’t do that.”

“Well, boss … I guess maybe you should.”

Gone was the confident, self-assured Miles Booth of the good old days. Now Kyle saw a scared young man whose girlfriend’s father, who was also his boss, knew the truth. Kyle held all the cards, and that was a situation he wasn’t used to being in.

“You know damned good and well I can’t,” Kyle said. “But honestly, Miles, did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you honestly believe, as close as I am to my daughter, that I wouldn’t figure out that you were with her? Honestly, Miles Booth, how bloody stupid do you think I am?”

Booth looked at Kyle glumly and did not respond to the question. To do so would have made things even worse.

“Your job is to play football, and yesterday you didn’t do that because you were too busy shagging my daughter,” Kyle said. “Now, you are both of age and I can’t stop you from doing the second part even if I wanted to, but the first part I bloody well can control, and I will. Right now I’d tell you to go home but if I did that, I don’t know where I’d find you when I got back. So, I’ve devised a special training plan for you.”

Miles looked at Kyle with an expression of penitence mixed with fear.

Kyle called out into the hallway.

“Alasdair, come in here for a minute, would you please?”

Alasdair Lane, the team’s fitness coach, stuck his head around the doorframe and then entered the room.

“Yeah, Kyle?” he asked.

“Mr. Booth has had some issues with illness,” Kyle said, choosing his words carefully. “As such, his match fitness has been degraded. Now, at today’s training session, I want you to work very closely with Mr. Booth on his fitness. It’s very important to a young player and really, it can’t be compromised. Am I right, Mr. Booth?”

Miles looked first at Lane and then at Kyle, and knew what was in store for him.

“Right, boss,” he said. “I haven’t been feeling well.”

“Mr. Lane, he’s all yours,” Kyle said. “Get the lad back into shape, yeah?”

He waved Miles out of the office and motioned for Lane to stay at the same time, feeling like a traffic cop as he did.

“He skipped training yesterday,” Kyle said. “Now, what I want to hear from you by the end of training today is that this lad threw up his breakfast. Are we clear?”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Lane asked. Kyle’s ice-blue glare convinced him otherwise.

“Just a thought, Kyle,” the fitness coach added, turning to obey the manager’s instructions.

Your writing is fantastic, flows very well. Can't wait for the next update

Make him suffer.

It's only just beginning for Miles ...
___

28 March 2015 – Oxford United (16-9-13, 10th place) v Carlisle United (10-9-19, 21st place)
Sky Bet League Two Match Day #39 – The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Referee: Trevor Kettle

Miles Booth went on a crash diet that day, and Kyle had returned to a more normal frame of mind by the time the Cumbrians arrived in Oxfordshire.

They had had a talk, the three of them, at which Kyle set basic expectations for behavior while under his roof. He did all the talking. Jenna and Miles simply nodded assent.

And then, he turned his attention back to the squad, which needed a breakout match in order to climb back into the thick of the playoff hunt.

There were calculated risks in the XI, and more than a few eyebrows raised when Maddison was left out for the first time in Kyle’s tenure. Eighteen-year old Josh Ashby was in the first team and making his first start for Oxford United, right in the middle of the engine room. Kyle had been all about sending messages this week, and this was definitely one of them.

Ashdown returned in goal and Grimshaw came back at right full back, but otherwise it was same old, same old for Oxford United. Godden returned to the bench in place of the youngster, Roberts, and the loan player was keen to impress now that he had been restored to the eighteen.

Kyle’s team talk was unique for him, and as he stepped to the front of the room, the players honestly wondered what they would get from the manager.

“I’m expecting something from you today,” he began. “Not asking, expecting. I was not pleased with how we ended the match last week but we’ve had a good week of training, you lads have a good plan in place to deal with Carlisle today and I am going to expect you to do it. Result today, lads. No excuses.”

The players looked at Kyle – and he saw fire in their bellies, which was a good sign.

“You’ve done well,” he repeated. “You have put yourselves in a position to play for something real in a few weeks’ time if you will finish the job. That job starts today and I expect you to grab this chance with both hands. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

The players lined up, went out onto the park, and proceeded to storm the Carlisle goal.

Seven minutes into the match, Whing passed to the left for the very intelligent run of Potts, who burst forward at the right moment to give Oxford some width. He crossed early, something opponents didn’t usually see from Oxford – and there was Hoban, between the central defenders to volley his 14th goal of the season behind Mark Gillespie and home.

The crowd – which, again, was slightly less than half capacity – had hardly had time to settle into their seats and start singing before they were celebrating, and that was a great sign.

Courtney Meppen-Walter then rammed hard into Hoban on Oxford’s next foray forward, forcing the striker to the touchline for treatment. He returned, and promptly hit the crossbar on a volley from twenty yards, anger in his eyes and frustration on his face.

Hoskins then came close, blazing over in sixteen minutes.

“If Will finds his form, we’re going to have a big day,” Fazackerley said, leaning over to Kyle to his left.

“No doubt,” Kyle answered. “We’ll see how the lads respond to being challenged.”

The answer … pretty well indeed. Five minutes later, they were celebrating again, this time through Hoskins. Hoban started the play, lumbering down the right flank while he recovered his senses, until laying off for Ashby about thirty yards from goal.

The teenager then made a pass worthy of Maddison, cutting the ball to the middle where Hoskins was waiting to lash Oxford’s second past Gillespie.

Twenty-one minutes. Two goals. Happy fans. A pleased boss. What could go wrong?

Well, really … nothing. That was a pleasant surprise.

Nine minutes later, Ashby did it again, moving to his right and finding MacDonald with a simply wonderful forty-yard diagonal ball to switch play. The Scot then took three strides and crossed, with Hoskins again left completely alone between the defenders for Oxford’s third, and his second, goal of the contest.

It was a rout. The Carlisle defenders seemed to have no idea how to stop Hoskins and some of the exclamations emanating from the visitors’ dugout were most pleasing to anyone wearing blue and gold. If they were even casually acquainted with the concept of zonal marking, they had clearly forgotten what it meant.

If it were a prize fight, they’d have stopped it, but there was more to come from the home team.

It was 38 minutes before the visitors got a shot on target, from a wonderful little flowing move in the area, but Ashdown collected comfortably and that was that. Oxford was rampant.

The announcer had just noted one minute of added time over the tannoy when MacDonald found Potts with a short throw to the right of the Carlisle goal. The West Ham man turned, crossed – and found who else but Hoskins, who beat Gillespie for his hat trick and a 4-0 lead at halftime that looked as safe as the Bank of England.

The players stormed into the changing room as jacked up as you might imagine, and Kyle stood again at the front of the room.

“Don’t you dare let up on them,” he warned. “When I said I wanted a result, you lads went out and blew their bloody doors off. Now I want ninety minutes. Don’t let your performances drop. Make a statement today.”

With that, he sent them right back onto the park and this time the second half was not an issue.

The shots were winding up on target this time as Oxford took out the frustration of the Shrewsbury match on the visitors.

In the 67th minute, Oxford got a corner to the left of the Carlisle goal. MacDonald took it and put it between the six-yard box and the top of the penalty area. There, Ashby was waiting to pick the ball out of the air and first-time it past Gillespie for five-nil. It was his first-ever league goal for Oxford and was no less than the young man’s play deserved.

The former Oxford City man leapt into the air and was mobbed by his mates. Kyle looked down the bench at Maddison and saw the on-loan Coventry man applauding. He’d have to have been daft not to. It was a truly delicious goal, goal-of-the-month type stuff even though Kyle’s team never won those sorts of things, and the visitors were again at sixes and sevens.

Two minutes later, it happened again, but not through Ashby. MacDonald did it, moving down the left to the byline and crossing for the head of Hoban, who simply played it back deeper into the box.

He found Whing, who had time to set his feet, pick a spot and beat Gillespie for Oxford’s sixth. For all his recent issues in defense, Whing knew where the net was, and his fourth goal of the season gave the team the ‘joy of six’, as the newspapers would undoubtedly say the next morning.

Oxford was so dominant that Kyle could have kept his eleven on the pitch for the entire match – something he had never done before – without so much as a whimper from the opposition. However, he opted to get Long and Rose some playing time in the 77th minute, taking off Bevans and O’Dowda, both of whom had played brilliantly but were losing some steam.

They protested playfully, but it was time to share the wealth. Hoban nearly added a seventh in second half injury time but was denied by Matthew Young, who cleared a goal-bound effort off the line.

There was no reason for anyone at the stadium wearing Oxford’s colors to be upset about anything after the match was done.

It had been a rout – the most comprehensive win of Kyle’s career – and it felt very, very good.

Oxford United: Ashdown: Bevans (Long 77), Dunkley, Wright (captain), Potts, Whing, MacDonald, Ashby, O’Dowda (Rose 77), Hoban, Hoskins. Unused subs: Clarke, Grimshaw, Meades, Maddison, Godden.

Oxford United 6 (Hoban 7, Hoskins 21, 30, 45+1, Ashby 67, Whing 69)
Carlisle United 0
H/T: 4-0
A – 5,294, The Kassam Stadium, Oxford
Man of the Match: Will Hoskins, Oxford (MR 9.6)
GUMP: Josh Ashby

Now that's one way to make a statement!