‘Oh Matha, don’t stop, that’s how I like it”. I bolted awake, the park was still engulfed in the night-time darkness, but I had just had the most harrowing of nightmares. It took me until daybreak to regain my bearings but once I did, I felt like a young child at Christmas.

You see, today was the first day of the new football season and my first real managerial test. Today, I hoped all the hours and hard work me and the team had put in on the training pitch over the last few weeks would come to fruition, as we faced off against the titans of Nantwich Town.

I had told the players to make their own way to the Pen Island Arena and once there, I gathered them all in the car park. I held my arms aloft as I began “Here we are boys, this is where it all begins; your quest for footballing greatness starts here… lets get into those dressing rooms, I want you all to have your game faces on and let’s make this a day to remember”. The players roared with approval as they excitedly entered the stadium.

I paced up and down the dressing room as the players sat silently in expectation. There was just fifteen minutes to go until the biggest moment of all of our lives and for the first time in a long while, I was almost lost for words.

“Right boys” I began. At that moment, I was interrupted by the sound of my mobile phone ringing. “I thought you said all mobiles should be switched off in the dressing room, boss” Reynolds asked cheekily. “Shut it, you” I replied.

“Jon, it’s Tom” came the response as I answered my phone. “Me and dad are

coming to the game today, I’ve actually managed to convince him! I really want to be your assistant manager, but Dad says he’s only bringing me today to prove that you’re a useless piece of sh*t”.

“Put that phone down!!” I heard in the background, as the line went dead. Typical Gerard, the mean spirited oaf would rather see his son stacking shelves at the local Sainsbury’s, than becoming a success with me… but I’ll prove him wrong, mark my words.

I marched back into the dressing room and barked “Ponting, Macey, Shemeld, Owen, Stanley, Reynolds, Mush, Sefton, Clarke, Volman - you boys are all starting today. Make this club proud and give us something to cheer about. I want Sowden, Dobinho, Frederiksen, D. Robinson and Nyborg on the bench… history is there to be made boys, go out and do yourselves proud”.

Deej had actually employed an announcer for this game and I watched as the players faces lit up after hearing their names called out. “Let’s get at them from the start” I heard my coach, Roy Meredith scream from the touchline. As the pre-match formalities took place, I scanned around the poultry crowd and caught sight of an excited looking Tom, decked out in his CM Rovers scarf, waving enthusiastically next to his disgruntled looking father.

As the referee blew his whistle to signal the start of the game, I heard my phone bleep again. “What’up man. Sorry I can’t be there today, I’m off in Dubai on business. Give the boys my best and make me proud brother, I’m counting on you”. Deej - his timing was as bad as ever, but I really wanted to repay the faith he had shown in me by gaining an opening day victory.

Decked out in their pristine red and black shirts, I could hardly have been prouder as I watched my team get the match underway. However, the harsh reality of the task that faced us quickly became apparent. We were being dominated in just about every part of the field and were on the rack for the first twenty minutes.

Rather fortuitously - but nonetheless - delightful, we managed to gain the lead in the twenty second minute. Sefton set off on a marauding run down the right wing and hit a poor cross in the direction of Volman. Volman mis-controlled the ball, but it bounced off the feet of one of the Nantwich defenders, straight into the path of Russell Clarke, who drilled the ball home from twelve yards to give us the lead.

Our happiness was derailed shortly after, when Volman was forced to come off through injury. However, the ensuing free kick saw Reynolds curl the ball into the box, his cross was met by Nyborg, who headed the ball across the face of goal and Sefton gleefully picked up the pieces, crashing the ball home on the half-volley to make the score 2-0!

I rose out of the dugout with my arms held aloft, “Get in!!” I shouted, as the sixteen year old wheeled away in celebration. What a start to my managerial reign this was proving to be. My delight was compounded as the inspirational Adrian Sowden continued to repel any slight hint of a Nantwich attack and as the referee’s whistled sounded for half time, I was in dreamland.

Nantwich were clearly on a damaged limitations exercise in the second half and despite the ever lively pair of Mush and Reynolds having a few long range efforts, the game petered out, somewhat.

I’d like to say that the full time whistle was greeted by a chorus of cheers, but the reality was that only Tom and his father were left in the stadium. Still, my young brother-in-law was making more than enough noise to make up for our non-existent fans.

If this day has taught me anything, it’s that my team have more than enough ability to progress in this league. I think young Tom would echo these sentiments and after witnessing our performance today, I may even be on the verge of turning Gerard into a believer.