There are seven games in September, but we head into the month in high spirits. It might not be as solid or as comfortable as I would have liked, but we’re unbeaten so far with two wins and two draws, and against a couple of good teams too. We’ve conceded four goals in four games, which is too many for a Catenaccio acolyte like me, and we’ve scored six, which probably isn’t enough to be the entertainers Newcastle want, but it’s early days and It’s promising.

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More promising are are our terrifying midfield options. In addition to O’Brien (Aggression: 18), Dillon (19) and Gary Brazil (20), Warren Barton (17) brings a phenomenal work ethic (18) and stamina (20). He needs a bit of development but he can play anyway across the back or in midfield. And Roy Keane, obviously, who should be developing with the reserves, but I’m not going to be the one to tell him.

We come through the international break unscathed, and it’s Port Vale up next. They have started like a very consistent train – not British Rail then – and have won each of their league games to this point 2-1. They employ a flat 4-4-2, with inspirational captain Robbie Earle driving the midfield forward. This will be a test, but win it and we’ll be making our intentions clear.

The game starts disastrously, with Port Vale knocking it around like AC Milan. They set out to attack, and it takes ten minutes before we even touch the ball. Unfortunately that’s just for Tommy Wright to pick the ball out of his own net. I hope it will spark us into action, but instead it just inspires them to push on, Earle breaking down our attacks before they even start and causing problems. We hold them off for another 25 minutes, before he sprays one out to the right, and Nicky Cross volleys in the, um, cross. Changes must be made.

I switch to a midfield diamond. We’ve not tried it before, but even with three midfielders Robbie Earle is running things, so we need four. Also, I vaguely recall a DM-AM axis working well in this game. Barton and Keane make their debuts, and Micky Quinn adds more firepower up front. We’ve gone all in. And, initially, it seems to work. On 51 minutes Dillon takes it past Earle, lays it on for Quinn and we’re back in the game. But that’s about the only highlight. Cross scores again, and despite brief hope from Gary Brazil, Port Vale close the game out. Shit.

There’s no time to feel sorry for ourselves though, as Plymouth come up to St James’ for a midweek fixture. They have struggled and sit in the relegation zone. After the last game, we need to take the game to them, so I stick with the diamond because at least it found the net a couple of times.

Much like the Port Vale game, the diamond starts well before trailing off. But this time, we hold on for a nervy win. Kevin Brock clearly prefers playing in the middle to be shifted out of position on the wing, who’d have thought it? On 17 minutes he hits a swerving shot into the top corner after a lovely team move, and on 31 he doubles the lead on the end of a Micky Quinn cross. The second half is calmer as we try to see the game out, before a Kevin Scott nods a hopeful Plymouth cross into his own net to halve the deficit. Kevin Hodges has a goal disallowed in injury time and we hang on for the win.

Leicester are in a similar position to Plymouth, but in Gary McAllister have a worryingly Robbie Earle-esque midfielder. My natural tendency is to revert to the more solid 4141, but it hasn’t proven as solid as I’d hoped. We’ll go with the diamond again, and hope that the central four can keep the Scot quiet. Barton comes in for an underperforming Ranson, and Lee Clark replaces Gary Brazil.

We don’t keep the Scot quiet. Instead, he runs the midfield like a prime Robbie Earle. Quinn gives us an early lead and, when Alan Paris levels we redouble and go ahead again through young Lee Clark. But after half time Leicester get to grips with us. Mauchlen gets onto the end of a floaty McAllister through ball to level the scores again, and despite throwing on Gary Brazil as a third striker we can’t shift the momentum. Again, we are lucky to come away with a draw.

The point, at least lifts us back into the playoff places, but I’ve given up getting the car repainted after every game. Oxford are up next in the cup, and in 1989 they are a decent Second Division side. Brian Horton can call on Mark Stein, Robbie Mustoe and Paul Simpson, but we’ll play the reserves anyway. The league is our focus. It means moving back to the 4141, and Barton is cup-tied.

Well, the league is definitely our focus now. The first half is a disaster, with Steve McLaren and Mark Stein putting us to the sword. Gill gets on the scoresheet on 27 minutes, but we’ve left too much for this young side to do, even as we gamble with three forwards. It’s a valiant effort, but its not enough.

Now I am presented with a problem. The diamond is inconsistent, and the 4141 isn’t pulling up any trees. Brighton are up next, sitting in 4^th place and mostly reliant on Alan Curbishley in the middle. A win could get us back amongst it, but a defeat could drop us into the bottom half, with the league so tight early on. Perhaps I panicked too quickly when the 4141 was roundly destroyed by Port Vale; they are still top, still strong, and I might have thrown our form out with a sparkly gemstone of a formation. We’re back to what we know.

It’s much more comfortable in the first half, as Brighton barely get out of their half and don’t trouble Wright’s goal even remotely. But we lost Kevin Scott at the back when Gary Chivers tries to cut him in half, for which he is booked (it’s 1989, after all). Brighton tackles are flying in, but that’s just the frustration that they can’t get in the game, so at half time I tell the lads to keep doing what they’re doing. The second half continues in much the same vein, but we can’t find the net. Micky Quinn is just coming back from his warmup when McGhee seizes on a loose ball, beats two defenders, and fires goalward. Perry Digweed has played like Dino Zoff all afternoon and duly makes the save, but Gary Brazil is following up to finish. Brighton throw men forward but all they can muster is the one chance late on. A win, and a comfortable one at that.

Scott’s injury will see him out for a couple of months, which is a huge loss, and with Anderson’s injury I move Steve Howey up from the reserves. Then I realise he is also injured so move him back. Some creative selection will head off an injury crisis for now, but we can’t afford much more disruption at the back.

Next up is Blackburn, who have had a similar start to us – an unbeaten August, and then presumably an idiotic, inexperienced manager panicked and screwed it all up. Well we don’t want to let them rediscover their form here. Fortunately our own idiot made his mistake early in the season, so a couple of average results has us back up to 4^th. Frank Stapleton is probably past it, but Colin Hendry is an actual Scottish mountain. Hen Nevis, or something. And we aren’t exactly free-scoring. Stimson moves into the middle, and Paul Sweeney comes in on the left.

Pep Guardiola, a promising 18 year old over in Barcelona, feels queasy. He doesn’t know why, but he thinks his legacy is in doubt. In North East England, Newcastle have just invented Tika-Taka. It’s a masterful performance. Dillon, O’Brien and Brazil knock it around the Blackburn midfield like its boys against men, and not even Hendry can stop them on his own. A lovely passing move sets Brazil clear of the great Scot, and he slots it home. Scott Sellars nicks a goal in the second half, but its only because we’re tired – 1989 Second Division players aren’t used to this level of pressing – so I bring on Lee Clark, Warren Barton and Micky Quinn, and we quickly hit our stride again. Clark scores an identical goal to Brazil’s (the player, not the team, although…) and the Dillon quickly volleys in a third. What was I thinking? Diamonds are for never. I’ll get my coat.

We finish the long month away at Barnsley. They are rock bottom, their squad is poorly suited to this level, and we’ve rediscovered our mojo. And we all know what that means in this game.

Well, shit.

Lowndes converts the penalty to give Barnsley the lead, and I curse the game out loud. But, fortunately, Barnsley are simply not very good, and did I mention our mojo? We lose our midfield supremacy by taking O’Brien off for Gary Kelly in goal, but it doesn’t restrain Brazil who bursts forward to equalise before half-time. I settle in for a long slog in the second half but, to my surprise, we’re on top! With 20 minutes to go I risk it, taking off Dillon for Quinn, and he doesn’t disappoint, dipping past Paul McGugan and drilling past Phil Whitehead. I drop Barton in for McGhee, and we see it out.

And that’s it, September’s massive schedule is finished, and despite being a bit wobbly at the start for completely unknown reasons, we are back at our best. Somehow, that run of results has seen us back to third. I don’t know how. But October sees us take on Sunderland, Leeds and Stoke, so my resolve will be severely tested again.

Black Box sit top of the charts with Ride on Time. Woah-oh-oh-ohhhh-oh!