The Nowhere Men Read Free Page B

but all the foreign ones do, especially at youth level.’
    As he spoke, England broke quickly from an ill-judged Czech attack. Harry Kane chested the ball down inside his own half, fed Ross Barkley on the right, and sprinted to receive a return ball on the edge of the penalty area before scoring with a low shot into the corner. Johnson spoke with proprietorial authority and concern: ‘There was nothing the keeper could do. He’s got nothing in front of him. That Celtic boy, the left-sided centre half, is struggling for his life. It’s not the keeper’s fault they keep getting caught out by balls over the top.’
    The consensus at half-time was that the Czechs were ‘crap’. Lil Fuccillo, Luton’s technical director, was telling anyone who would listen: ‘it’s Barça this, Barça that. I’m getting sick of it. We’ve got to play to our strengths in this country.’ Rather than enlist in the Bedfordshire branch of the Flat Earth Society, Johnson gravitated towards Dave Holden, the veteran Arsenal scout, who was instrumental in the recruitment of Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain.
    There was an easy rapport between the pair – ‘not a lot out there is there?’ – and each knew not to read too much into the small talk. They strayed beyond the immediacy of the match, to engage in a discussion about the best culture in which to inculcate young players. Holden, a former school teacher who had retained a broad Geordie accent, insisted: ‘Players recognise the best players. They’ll have a young one in the group if they see something in him. Players also challenge coaches. They know if the coach isn’t good enough, the outstanding player in the group will regress to the level of the others.’
    The gossip was global. Jaap Stam was making a positive impact as Manchester United’s Brazilian scout, and was pushing hard for Dede, the Vasco da Gama central defender. Barcelona had taken out first options on 39 young players at Boca Juniors. Glenn Roeder, the former Newcastle manager, had been added to Aston Villa’s scouting staff. By the time the litany of opportunity was complete, the second half was underway.
    We were joined by Anderson, Liverpool’s youth scout, who exclaimed ‘there’s our boy again!’ when Todd Kane delivered a cross on the run that enabled Chelsea colleague Patrick Bamford to extend England’s lead with a stooping header. Johnson’s other duty involved monitoring winger Nathan Redmond, who was introduced as a substitute, midway through the half. ‘Watch him,’ he counselled. ‘He won’t really be trying. He’ll be more worried about playing for Birmingham on Saturday, and in the Cup replay against Chelsea next week.’ Sure enough, Redmond was measured, to the point of indolence. He contributed little, apart from a languid flick and brief bursts of pace in insignificant areas. Another early departure was entirely excusable.
    Again, Johnson had rationed his intelligence. No one had detected his interest in the goalkeeper. ‘The trick in this game is never to let people know what you are thinking, or how you are working. There are plenty out there happy to feed off your knowledge.’ His report on Zima, who had been signed by Genoa from Slavia Prague, was on the Anfield system by 2 a.m., with a recommendation that he be watched by Liverpool’s Italian scout.
    It was one of 200 such reports, submitted that week. Whether it would receive the attention it deserved was another matter entirely.

2
Billy’s Boys
    THE WHIFF OF cordite was disguised by the sweet scent of fresh lilies, which saturated the lobby at the Melwood training ground, where an honour guard of men in late middle age cradled scrapbooks sanctified by the scrawl of superstars and superannuated underachievers. A bronze bust and an inscription, set in polished granite and extending from floor to ceiling, demanded due homage to the heroic contradictions of Liverpool Football Club.
    The inscription read: ‘Above all, I would like to be