We return from the continent buoyed by the final two results. The fans are in a slightly better mood and I am more confident in the 4141 that seemed to find its feet, although I do now need to have a frankly terrifying conversation with either Micky Quinn or Mark McGhee. There are bids flying now for the reserves I’ve placed on the transfer list, but the scouts aren’t forthcoming with answers to strengthen the squad. We’ll go with what we have for now and see what happens.

Catch up on the previous part here! If you want to try your own challenge, everything you need is here!

West Ham are one of the favourites for promotion and we want to start well against one of our rivals. They boast the likes of Tony Gale and Liam Brady, and the frankly terrifying prospect of Martin Allen, whose aggression (20) makes even O’Brien and Dillon look like kitty cats. We’ll go with the same lineup as we left Switzerland, except we’ll start with Mark McGhee up top, in part because of his greater work rate, and in part because he’s more scary than Quinn.

West Ham start the better. Brady might be in the twilight of his career, but he’s still got some of the magic that made him an Arsenal legend. He dictates play from the middle of the park, drifting past striped shirts like they’re not there. We score against the run of play on 38 minutes, breaking after Rosenior rattles the woodwork for the away side, but the Hammers just up the pressure and Frank McAvennie equalises on half time.

I try to encourage the boys in the break, but the second half begins in much the same way. Brady is still involved in everything and our penalty shout would be generous, given the game. McGhee picks up a knock and Quinn replaces him, but that’s the only excitement. We finish 1-1, and we’re lucky to have our first point of the season.

McGhee’s injury isn’t serious, but he will miss the next two games. One of those is a cup match where I will play the youngsters anyway, so it’s not too bad. Champions Arsenal pip Liverpool to the Charity Shield, but I miss that getting the graffiti removed from my car. Fans haven’t come around yet then.

Next up is West Brom. They’re decent in 1989, but they’re a long way from the side that boasted Cyrille Regis. Keep Don Goodman quiet and we should be winning this one comfortably. Brock comes in on the left.

It’s a win, which is all you can ask for at this stage. Defensively we are rock solid, restricting the Baggies to one shot in each half and largely dominating. I like solidity, but we need to be picking up wins here, and I’m just about to panic and bring on a second striker when Stuart Naylor scuffs a goal kick straight to Quinn, who beats the last defender and fires into the top corner. That’ll do nicely. I leave it packed in the middle and we see the game out. Job done.

The scouts have found an interesting prospect when we return to the North East. Who is the dirtiest player in football? Efan Ekoku, obviously. He’s not the greatest talent on the game, but he’s got it where it counts. Unfortunately, he’s only just signed for Sutton and doesn’t want to join us four divisions up yet, so we add him to the shortlist to keep an eye on.

The League Cup comes fast when you’re outside the top flight, and we need to travel to Northampton. The Third Division side shouldn’t cause us too many problems, so we’ll give some of the reserves a run out. We’ll keep the same system though, consistency is the key.

We start like a train, and Northampton don’t know where to move. Mark Gill takes only five minutes to latch onto a loose ball and score his first goal for the club, and five minutes later Lee Clark continues his impressive introduction to the first team with a superb long range effort after running from deep. We spend the first half peppering the Northampton goal with shots and Peter Gleasure is busy, before Paul Culpin’s speculative effort dips under Kelly’s bar to halve the deficit. The second half is a little more cagey, but 15-year-old Alan Thompson volleys a Gleason punch right back past him to seal the deal. It’s a comfortable performance, if not the demolition we promised at the start. The Second Round draw sees us up against Oxford.

The games keep coming, and the first team comes back in to take on Bradford. They are a solid unit, and Jimmy Quinn up front is a real danger man. We keep our Quinn up top, despite McGhee returning to fitness, but before we welcome the Bantams to St. James’ the scouts drop two more interesting names on my desk. Bids are duly made for Maidstone’s Warren Barton and Cobh Ramblers’ terrifying teenager Roy Keane (there are a lot more scary players in the 80s…).

Bradford are definitely a better side than they look. O’Brien pounces on a Gary Brazil rebound in the 28^th minute, before a foul on Quinn gives Gallacher the chance to double the lead from the spot, and at half time I am feeling pretty confident. But Gabby Logan’s dad gets into them at half time, and Bradford are a different side in the second half. It doesn’t take away from the fact that Jimmy Quinn dives on 51 minutes to win a free kick, a free kick that deflects agonisingly past Wright off of Andy Thorn. You can’t blame a guy for making the block. And then it’s all Bradford possession. We limit their chances until Paul Jewel gets a shot away in the 81^st minute and levels it up. We’ve thrown away the lead, and Bradford have the momentum. This time I do panic, and throw on McGhee. And Clark, for good measure, pushing Brazil up behind the front two. It’s gung-ho. It’s a gamble. And, unbelievably, it works! With five minutes to go Ranson gets clear in the area, and volleys a McGhee knock down into the top corner. The fans are ecstatic, the players are ecstatic, and I don’t have to dodge any Leazes End rubble. Happy days.

For reasons I can’t quite fathom, we have to hop on a bus straight away to head down to Portsmouth for a Monday night kickoff. Ranson and Stimson are too tired from the Bradford exertions to make the trip, so Sweeney and Anderson come in. A win could see us into the promotion places, but Portsmouth are just a point behind us and look decent. Alan Knight and Graeme Hogg will be difficult to beat, and Warren Neill has started the season well on the right. Another tough night beckons.

It’s an even game, and a hard one. Guy Whittingham poleaxes John Gallacher on 35 minutes and we need to bring Fereday on. The challenges keep flying until half time, but no goals. I give Anderson a little more license to get forward and he rewards me immediately, picking up a loose ball on the right and drilling it beyond Knight. Our joy is short lived though, as Terry Connor gets on the end of a low Whittingham cross to equalise just a few moments later. I throw on McGhee and Clark again, but Portsmouth are too well disciplined and it finishes level.

The bus journey back is a long one, but there’s some good news when we get back to the North East. At first I try to chase the shady teenager away from my car, but the glare he gives me is unmistakable. Roy Keane is here to sign his contact. We welcome him to St. James’ and won’t say anything about the fresh graffiti. I’ll choose to believe it wasn’t him.

A couple of days later we get some more good news, as Warren Barton makes the move up from Kent. £700,000 is more than I wanted to pay for a Fourth Division player, but the lad has potential, and I’m confident the new additions will fit in nicely.

We finish the month unbeaten, scoring goals and in third place. There must be something in the water in Stoke as both of their sides sit above us, but we’ll know soon enough – Port Vale are up next. Jive Bunny and the Mastermixers top the chart.