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Roy of the Rovers A New Beginning Week 20 The Race mansion on the outskirts of Melchester was more alive

e than usual. For the first time in five years, Roy Race had a full-house on Christmas morning. Rockys wife, Jeanette had flown over with their two girls; Diana was down from Scotland with her husband, Declan McKaffree, the former Rovers striker, now with Glenrath Celtic; Mel was newly single having recently divorced her husband, a football agent, but had her nine-year old son Roy in tow. So the house was buzzing with Christmas cheer, as the three children sped around the spacious living area, darting in and out of the kitchen. Roy took a moment as he left the throng to get a second bottle of Champagne from the wine cellar. His beloved wife, Penny, had died over ten years ago now, how he wished she was still here, to see the whole family together, with no tension, no arguments, no fights. Who wants a refill? the great footballer shouted, as he popped the cork, shooting it across the room. Declan nodded as he pushed his empty glass towards his father-in-law. Declan had received his fifth caution of the season last week, so was suspended from Celtics away match at Abertoon in the far north of Scotland. Roy was delighted when Diana had called him from the stadium midway through the second half with the news of Decs yellow card. It meant that they would both be in Melchester and the family complete. While Declan and Diana were in jovial mood, Rockys twin sister, Mel was moody, as usual. It was understandable given her recent divorce, but her changeable personality was having a negative effect on her son, Roy. Around two years ago Mel had decided she hated football. Her husband was an influential agent, with a number of top Premier League players on his books. But like her mother she had become somewhat of a football widow. The youngest Roy was already showing great promise as a footballer, how could he not with his genealogical history? But Mels new hatred for the beautiful game left the boy cut-off from the sport he loved. Mel gave Rocky an awful glare as her son opened the presents from his uncle; a football, some new boots, the new Rovers away strip, with 9 and Race proudly printed on the back. The boy jumped to his feet removing his clothes and changing into his new outfit, Lets play now Uncle Rocky, you too Grandad! Rocky shot through the French windows and into the garden. He had enjoyed so many kickabouts with his father on their own special mini-football pitch. It was cold and had been raining, but boys love getting muddy even on Christmas Day. As Rocky and Declan played headers and volleys with their nephew, Mel made her feelings clear to her father, I dont want Roy to grow up to be a footballer, Dad! Ive seen what it did to you, to Rocky, to Mum. Hes a clever boy I want him to go to a top university. Hes doing so well at prep school, he passes all the 11+ test exams already. Hell get into any of the top schools around Melchester and I can afford to send him to the best. Roy Senior understood, but could not help be a little disappointed with his eldest daughter. She was determined to end the Race footballing legacy but her son would be good enough, he knew it with Rocky and he was sure that the youngest Roy could play for Melchester Rovers and England. Why cant the boy do both? Boys have to have fun too, no-one can just be an academic; Gerry Holloway, Lofty Peak, Bruno Johnson, they all went to top universities and played for the Rovers too. Mel was not interested in the history of Melchester Rovers, Ive no-one to take Roy to his training and matches. When you werent working it was doable, but not now. Rockys American wife Jeanette, was puzzled, Why cant you take him to his soccer? I take the girls to dance and piano lessons and to their grandparents. Rockys always away at weekends with the TV crew and hes been here for

two months now. Not once in that time have the girls missed out on anything and theyre both doing great at school! Mel pulled one of her typical, I know your right but will never admit it faces, she sighed, I know I can, but I just cant manage on my own. You know that Rocky will be back, I know its just me and Roy all the time. I just want him to focus on school, maybe if I find a new man or if Dad finally retires, Ill have time for football too. Diana was in charge of cooking dinner, since marrying Declan she had become an excellent home cook, even having two books published. She called her father into his designer kitchen, Dad, while Decs outside I need to ask a favour. Were struggling in Scotland, its horrible, I hate it. Decs not enjoying his football either. Can you get him a transfer back to Melchester? Roy replied, I dont think we can afford him, Diana. Hed cost at least fifteen million, weve got eight to spend maximum, and thats only if Van Den Broeck goes to Alkhoven. His daughter looked distraught, But can you use some of your contacts, let them know he wants a move? We need to come back to the Midlands or London even. Decs gambling and drinking, soon it will start to affect his form I know it. Please Dad try and get him a transfer, Id even take Melboro! Roy was upset that his daughter was not happy north of the border, but he would be glad to have her back nearer to home. Declan was a lovely boy and a great footballer, he would be an asset to most Premier League sides. Suddenly Roy sparked up, almost throwing his Champagne flute into the sink, Have you thought about a loan move? Ring his agent now! Leave a message if you have to. Ill email Vernon Eliot. He could be just the player we need to secure that Champions League spot. And if that happens we could definitely afford to bring him home! Roy rushed outside to join the game of football. He snuck up beside Rocky and stole the ball, dribbled past Declan and shot a Rocket into the net past a startled young Roy. Declan, my man! I think we might just have sorted a way for you to come back to the Rovers! Young Roy, let out a cheer, What a Christmas present that would be; Declan McKaffree, my uncle upfront for Rovers, again! *** In the Melchester Rovers dressing room things were tense. Vernon Eliot had been forced into changing his in-form team; Richie Lyons had been knocked-out at Kelburn and was still in hospital with severe concussion, while Steve Daley had strained his anterior knee ligament and would be out for at least four weeks. Wes King had been dropped with Spanish international right-back Miguel Piedra returning. I dont need to tell any of you how much this match means. Of course it is vitally important that we keep pace at the top, but this is not just another game, you all know that! But we did not play well at Kelburn, we deservedly got beat! Now weve got to show Melboro that Rovers are back, that we belong at this end of the table. We know we are good enough, now go out there and show everyone that Melchester Rovers are back! Jake Cheetham, let out a roar and charged to the door as the bell rang, Come on Rovers! We are Melchester, we run own this town! That trophys ours, Melboro have only signed it on loan!

***

Trevor Brinsden was steaming, he trounced out as the full-time whistle blew and put up his hood to keep off the drizzle. Effing Melboro! I never knew they were that good. Our players bottled it though. Eliot didnt get them playing the good football that had got us to the top of the league. Against the two best sides we lost the plot and started punting it, just like last season! The cochairman was talking to himself, no-one was around to hear him. The short walk to his favourite pub usually took over twenty minutes as over fifty-thousand people plodded through the narrow streets surrounding Mel Park, but today tens of thousands had left early as Rovers wilted. Afternoon, Trevor! Not a good day today! the landlord said as Brinsden took a seat at the bar, Understatement John, understatement! Ive got to do something about this, we need to improve the squad but we cant afford anyone. Ive got to find a way to get more money into the club. Days like today should never happen. How can we fold to Melboro? Theyre not a real club like Melchester, only some Johnny Foreigners money has made them champions! The pub would normally be throbbing with post-match drinkers, but like the streets outside, was bare and empty. Im sorry John, I cant stand this! Trevor knocked back the rest of his pint and left the pub. He set off towards the ground, I cant go in there, with all those Melboro directors and players lording it over us! So he span around and walked towards the River Mel. There was a nice towpath that followed the river back almost to Trevors apartment block in the city centre. A long walk in the rain would help him think clearly. How would he get the tens of millions of pounds that Rovers desperately needed to improve the squad? It was obvious today that the squad had little depth, Dave Clegg was poor and Freddy Van Den Broeck was so off form and wanted a transfer. When Trevor was starting his laundry business he found money in ways unimaginable to most legitimate businessmen, could he do that for Melchester Rovers? Trevors feet squelched in the gravelly puddles along the towpath. The River Mel was part-canalised here and wide enough for large nineteenth century vessels to navigate without concern. Gentrification had largely replaced or rejuvenated the old buildings and warehouses associated with Melchesters long forgotten shipping industry. The Midlands city was now home to a new central business district with some of the most impressive new architecture in Western Europe. The rows of terraced houses that were home to the former dockers and shipbuilders were quickly being demolished, many had been vacant for decades. Trevor had grown up in one of these less than modest two up two down, outside loo, tenements, his had been replaced in the last year. He was not sad to see it go. His street was unrecognisable to the one where he first discovered football and Melchester Rovers, no children were kicking balls against the red brick walls of their homes, in fact there was no evidence that any of the new flats were lived in. They looked smart, but so many were owned by foreigners, by Chinese and Middle-Eastern investors, people with so much money they would not miss the million pounds the flats cost, but people who were oblivious to the inaccessible housing market they had created. Melchester was in the middle of a housing crisis, families found house prices so high that they had to relocate; overspill suburbs like Bromsmede were growing exponentially. But the new CBD and its immediate surrounding high-class housing resembled a ghost town, even on Boxing Day when the sales were starting only shop workers and the homeless populated the city centre. Outside Trevors apartment block sat a homeless man, he was there on Sundays usually, when the porter was not working, so he was here too on Boxing Day. Trevor handed him a ten pound note, he had too much money and no-one to leave it to and the generous gift would soon be forgotten once the Scottish beggar converted it to heroin or Tenants Super, Merry Christmas, sir!

In Trevors apartment he took out the two folders that his private detective had given him months ago. When Rovers were winning he had done well to forget the likely strife that would follow when John Lucas published his expos into his past. But after todays thrashing Trevor was panicking, he was lonely and his only comfort would be alcohol. He was no better off mentally than the Scots tramp outside. Trevor opened the reports and spread them on the dining table. He needed ideas, the strong Belgian lager he was drinking was setting off idea after idea, but he needed inspiration from his past schemes. This one had to be the biggest yet, he could combine the siphoning of company turnover with his other great love, gambling. In 2004 Trevor had successfully rigged five matches at the BOD World Darts Championships. He had also made significant profit on in-frame betting after meeting a professional snooker player in a casino. But this time he would go big, he would attempt to make over twenty million pounds in a series of big bets placed with Asian bookmakers. Trevor Brinsden was going to fix a Football League match, in England.

Storky Knight NEXT WEEK Trevors plans develop, but can Rovers return to form at Portdean?

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