MOSS SIDE BARROW BOY PART EIGHT

Our midweek trip to Notts County for the first round of the League Cup (a decent competition, and I don't care what anyone says, er until we get into Europe) nearly turned out to be very sticky. We made laborious work of opposition who we should have been able to toy with at will. Things went according to plan at first. Ibrahim Said, making his debut, was allowed to walk out of defence almost at will, and made various marauding runs into the Magpies' half. I thought he looked like an Egyptian Sol Campbell, albeit one who would do what Sol does 10 times in a match rather than once every 4 years. Said it was who played an instrumental part in our opener, a delightful flick into the area that was chested down by Paulo Wanchope. The Costa Rican, who I had labelled as a rather selfish player, took one look at the defenders closing in around him, and spotted Andreas Andersson at the far post. Without even thinking about it, the ball was threaded through to the criminally unmarked Swede, and he tapped in this easiest of chances. 1-0 to the Blues.

It was at this point that we should have closed the door and played midfield football, but we didn't. Control of the proceedings gradually passed to County as they were allowed to make more surging threats through the middle. I noted that Alf Inge Haaland appeared to be struggling in the holding midfield role, whilst Richard Dunne looked nothing like a prodigious defender. The Irishman was charged with marking Mark Stallard, and made such a ham-fisted attempt that the crowd-pleaser was able to stroll past him and shoot for the top corner, virtually untouched. I glanced over to Vinny, who was adding Dunne to his list ("Dunne and done, boss" as he told me later), and replaced him with Australian Simon Colosimo. How I wished Steve Howey had been fit, but the England international had struggled to get himself into shape after his exertions chatting with the goalkeeper during the Portsmouth match.

With extra time a certainty, I made one or two changes, giving To Madeira his debut in place of Andersson and swapping the knackered Ali Benarbia for Kevin Horlock. I didn't want to play the extra 30 minutes, as certain players hardly seemed able to last the full 90, but never mind. At least we re-established a sense of dominance, and started to make some incursions, Selakovic looking particularly dangerous down the right. Pendrey was busy working out his list of penalty takers, and had added and crossed out Stuart Pearce's name several times, until, with the game dying before our eyes, Selakovic spotted To Madeira in the ten-yard box and the young Portuguese striker made no mistake with his cool shot past Steve Mildenhall. We'd made it, but the way we muddled through suggested there was still much work to be done.

Next up was a tough away trip to Birmingham City, and in the build-up I learned that Dunne had received a visit from some gentlemen who gently warned him to improve his game in the future. He thought that they were supporters, though their Cockney accents and the fact they were clearly packing (unless they were pleased to see him) made him suspicious. In the meantime, I made three new signings. The first two were rudimentary additions to the youth team, Gavin Pritchard and Steve Skinner, who had already impressed Pendrey during their trial periods. We also captured Mark Kerr from Falkirk, after some heavy bartering. I had to choke up £1.5m of the club's money for the Scottish midfielder, an ultimate appreciation of some million squid on my original offer, but I thought he'd be worth it. The new boy would instantly replace Benarbia, who ended every match on his hands and knees.

I knew that this match would be tough, and decided to field a veteran line-up. Eyal Berkovic had warranted a return to action so replaced Moukoko, and Howey made his return in defence. I noticed that Richard Dunne sought out a seat on the bench as far from Vinny as possible. My hand was forced on the left, where Kristian Bergstrom was clearly struggling to reach match fitness, so another chance for Benarbia was offered. And it was the Algerian who justified himself. In the 11th minute, with most players still introducing themselves to St Andrews, he went on a solo run that sliced through the Brum defence and ended with the away team one up. Superb! Then it all started to go horribly wrong. Captain Pearce was dismissed two minutes later for pulling down Marcelo as the forward looked for work in our penalty area. The referee had little option but to dismiss him, which I thought was harsh until I saw the video later and noticed how the 'pull' involved excessive swearing and possible fists thrown. Oh yeah, and he was the last man too. All the same, an appeal to the FA was in order. No one did this to Tel's team.

Marcelo scored from the spotkick, which prompted a period of relentless pressure from the Blues. Andy Johnson put them up shortly before half time, and from the looks of things didn't seem to be in any danger of choking. Pearce cut a dejected figure in the dressing room, and reacted strongly when Vinny went over to have a quiet chat. He wasn't called Psycho for nothing (writer's note - Pearce will always be known to me as 'Phyllis', after my dad kept calling him this in homage to the eponymous, silver-haired granny from Coronation Street. You remember her? The gravel-voiced, Percy Sugden-chasing crone with a libido that would make Michael Douglas blush and the acting talent of a young Keanu Reeves? No? Best left then) after all, and Vinny was left to make vague threats from the opposite corner.

I needed spirit from the boys now, and Paulo Wanchope provided it. With Shaun Goater on, the pair came up with a partnership of some class, weaving the ball between each other to befuddle the Birmingham defenders. Berkovic also chose this moment to introduce himself to the fray, and fired a shot that the keeper could only parry into Wanchope's path. 2-2. He scored his double soon after when a through ball from Goater (belying his reputation as a lazy target man, but that's CM for you!) found him perfectly placed to put us ahead. Once again though, we showed an uncanny ability to choke when we didn't have to, which might have had something to with the new players settling down, or playing a three-man defence. In any event, Johnson was able to force the equaliser in the 88th minute, capping a move that started off with Bryan Hughes pinching the ball from Haaland. Lovely.

I was disappointed to concede soft goals, but in reality the scoreline wasn't a bad one for us having played the majority of the game with ten men. A few days later, I found out that the FA agreed with me that the three-match ban they'd imposed on Phyllis was harsh, and that this would be reduced to two. Cheers, guys. That's the thanks I get for bringing back all those duty frees for Graham Kelly and changing some of the old farts' catheters, is it? We were second in the table, two points behind unbeaten Millwall, which wasn't something to complain about, and with successive home ties against Sheff Wed and Notts Forest to come (giving me an opportunity to swap angst about being fallen giants - ouch!) the chance to redress would soon be at hand.

Part Nine is just a click away!