Back at the training ground the following day, the mood in the camp seemed more upbeat. We had got our first win of the season and I now hoped that the team would play with a bit more freedom and express themselves, as I knew they could.

As Ricky took the players through their paces, I picked up a newspaper and headed to the lavatory for my morning constitutional. Expecting to see the image of a celebrating Henrik Larsson on the back page, I was surprised to find Neil Mellor being mobbed by his team mates after helping his Preston side knock out Premier League Portsmouth, under the heading of ‘Giant Killers’.

Nevertheless, I began flicking through the pages, looking for the report from our fixture, when five pages in I came across a small segment in the bottom left hand corner, next to the horse racing results. It was entitled ‘Bumbling Fulham Scrape Win’ and the reporter went on to describe the match as ‘one of the most tedious and uninspiring football matches that I have ever had the misfortune of attending’. Ouch, that was a bit harsh.

I threw the newspaper in the bin and was on my way back to the office when I bumped into Mr. Al-Fayed. “Jonathan, could I have a world please?” he said ominously. “Of course”, we strolled out to the training ground and chatted as we watched the players practicing defending set pieces. “I haven’t exactly been overawed with our start to the season. In fact, I’d go as far as saying I am quite disappointed. You are being paid handsomely for your services and in return, I expect to see us competing with the best teams in the division”. “I know” I replied “And results will pick, I can assure you”.

Mr. Al-Fayed gave me a hard stare before continuing “I hope that they do. However, the main reason I wanted to speak to you was because there have been a few rumblings from people around the club that the players are not happy with your laid back approach to training”. “Which players? I’m on the training ground at nine o’clock sharp every morning. Tell me who it is and I will have a word with him”. “That would be the problem, I’m afraid to say that I don’t who is responsible, but I have heard that the News of the World are planning to run a major interview with the player in question on Sunday. This could be very embarrassing for everyone concerned with the club and I want you to make sure that the story never sees the light of day, do you understand?”. “Don’t worry Sir. I will speak to the boys and put an end to this nonsense”.

Oh dear, this was the last thing I needed as we prepared for the visit of Reading on Saturday. As the players sat and ate their lunch, I spoke to them about their roles and responsibilities at the club “This team is like a family, we play for each other and defend each other. We are only as strong as our weakest part and if there are some of you who are unhappy, then I would expect you to come to me with your problems and not to anyone outside of the club”. “We know boss, what’s all this about?” Simon Davies piped up. Hoping that my words had resonated with whoever was planning to talk to the News of the World, but also not wanting to cause any suspicion or divisions in the camp, I replied “I just wanted to make sure we are all on the same page, now finish your lunch and I’ll see you out there in half an hour”.

Now all I had to do was wait and hope that the story would never come out. In the next few days I switched my attention to our upcoming fixture against a Reading side who were marooned at the bottom of the table, having taken no points from their opening three games. This seemed like the ideal fixture for us, a great chance to kick-start our Premier League campaign against a team who were bound to be short on confidence.

Before I knew it, Saturday was upon us and as the hordes of fans made their way through the turnstiles, I was delivering my final instructions to the players. I told them to get in Reading’s faces from the off and try and grab an early goal. I felt that if we took the early initiative, then Reading would crumble. After his showing in mid-week, Larsson regained his first team place at the expense of Rodallega in an otherwise unchanged starting line up.

As Mike Dean got the game underway, I noticed Mr. Al-Fayed had taken his seat in the directors box, this was the first game he had attended all season. Obviously he wanted to get a closer look at his new team, but it only served to increase my apprehension about the next ninety minutes. As I looked out onto the field and then to the players sat around me, I couldn’t help but wander who the potential mole was.

Still, during the first ten minutes of the game my problems were put into perspective as I saw Steve Coppell’s team labour to even put two passes together. They were awful, but we were making little headway ourselves. It wasn’t particularly pleasing on the eye but it was a keenly contested game, with both Liam Rosenior and Stephen Hunt having to leave the field on a stretcher after crunching tackles from Fernando Meira.

The Reading dugout were in a state of uproar and imploring the referee to send Meira off. However, Mr. Dean dismissed their claims, deeming Meira’s challenges to be hard, but fair.

It was nice to see my captain getting stuck in and leading by example, from that moment on we began to play some nice football and really took a strangle hold on the game. Craven Cottage erupted shortly after, as Sokratis nodded the ball home from Giovanni’s corner to give us the lead and score his second goal of the week.

By this stage, Coppell was beside himself with rage and began hurling abuse at the fourth official. There was a chorus of jeers from the home fans as he was sent to the stands, whilst I sympathised with Coppell a little, I struggled to hide the fact that I was delighted that things were going our way for a change.

However, with the chips down, Reading showed great battling spirit and were gifted a goal by our ever generous defence in the thirty-second minute. I was absolutely disgusted with Armand Traore, who’s loose back pass allowed Kalifa Cisse to curl the ball into the far right hand corner of Antti Niemi’s goal. An eerie hush came over the ground, apart from a small pocket of cheering Reading supporters.

This goal really took the wind out of our sails and I knew I had a lot of work to do at half time. “What happened lads? We had them on the ropes all half and then a silly mistake at the back has let them right back into the game. I don’t need to tell you that I will be livid if we don’t get the three points today”.

“That’s not good enough lads; I want you tight on your man at the back and I want the midfielders to feed the ball out wide and let Chris and Giovanni work their magic” Ricky added. I decided to make just the one change at the break, with Streller coming on in place of a tiring Clint Dempsey. However, I warned the players that I wouldn’t be afraid to make more changes if they continued to under-perform.

True to my word, having made little head-way during the first fifteen minutes of the second half, I hauled off Larsson and Traore and brought on Rodallega and Norambuena.

Reading were sitting back and trying to catch us on the counter attack. The seventy minute mark approached and as we continued to push forward, disaster struck. Hahnemann quickly threw the ball up to half way, after collecting a feeble effort from Davies. His inch perfect throw landed at the feet of Doyle, who jinked past the outstretched leg of Fernando Meira, bearing down on goal, he calmly chipped the ball over the head of the onrushing Niemi and was then mobbed by the ecstatic Reading supporters as he ran over to celebrate.

A chorus of boos rang down from the stands, as I sat in my chair with my head in my hands. I had used up all my substitutes and was running out of ideas. “Just tell them to go for it, take a risk, shove Zarate up top with Streller and Rodallega and lets just pray we can get something out of this game” I said to Ricky, who instantly relayed my instructions onto the pitch.

I later found out that as the second goal had gone in, Mr Al-Fayed had left the ground, furious at the way the team had capitulated. He wasn’t the only one, as I looked up, all around me I could see the supporters heading for the exits and one fan had even gone as far as to throw his season ticket onto the pitch.

I couldn’t really blame them but we still had time and as they say, football is a funny old game. Now playing to a half empty stadium, my team really began to turn the screw, we were practically camped in the Reading half. With six minutes remaining, my decision to push Zarate further forward was rewarded. He was quickest to the loose ball after Giovanni’s shot was blocked, his first time effort squirmed under the body of Hahnemann and trickled into the back of the net. He quickly collected the ball and ran back to the halfway line for the restart.

There was a real sense that we could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat in this one. Zarate came close again two minutes later but was denied by a finger tip save from Hahnemann. Everyone but Antti Niemi piled into the Reading area for the resulting corner, but Marco Streller’s delivery was poor and deflected off Andre Bikey and straight back into his path. With the penalty area still loaded, Streller fired a thunderous strike from the most acute of angles, unbelievably it clipped the far post and nestled in the back of the net.

“What a goal!” I shouted as I jumped out of my seat. Streller looked surprised that it had gone in, but had no time to think as he was mobbed by his team mates. We had done it. The referee blew the full time whistle as soon as Reading restarted the game and the players celebrated like they had just won the league, rather than a home fixture against the divisions bottom club.

The players stayed out on the field to salute the fans who had stayed behind and witnessed a stirring comeback. I didn’t want to get too carried away, so headed for the dressing room. I couldn’t help but think about Mr. Al-Fayed leaving the ground early and what he would think when he heard about the comeback. The players had showed some real character today and I was proud of them. However, I was still pensive about what revelations may come out in the mornings papers.