Having signed Jason Pearce from Pompey, Joel Ward was next. I was buzzing and burst in to the chairmans office expecting him to sign the cheque, I was astonished to find the room was stripped bare of its chattels and a forlorn looking Shaun Harvey looking out of the window.

Harvey reminded me of a giant poodle missing his master. Eventually he spoke.

"He's gone!" Harvey said in hushed tones.

I sat down stunned. Although Bates' polarised opinion, he was one of the last great characters in the game....

"I hope he didn't suffer" my thoughts turned to Suzanne and the shock she probably woke to, I hoped he'd gone peacefully in his sleep.

"I doubt it" Harvey grinned "He stands to make a few bob out of it, bless him"

I smiled wryly. Even in death, the bottom line was that Bates would profit from it. Maybe there were some insurance policies to cash in, hopefully he would leave a legacy to the fans who berated him whereby we could bring some new players in, starting with the lad Ward from Portsmouth.

"The Ward deal will be on ice..." Harvey explained.

"Obviously" I nodded grimly "At least until after the funeral...."

"Funeral?" Harvey's face broke into a broad grin. "No Neil, the Chairman is not dead! He's selling up to a Bahrain bank..."

"A Bahrain bank!" My eyes lit up. Those Arabs were loaded. Sod signing another Pompey cast-off, I will be straight on the blower to Tony Fernades about Luke Young and Taarabt whilst we were at it.

Harvey looked sheepish. "Neil, you have to appreciate that even the Middle East had not been recession proof, somebody called David Haigh is coming over Wednesday, I think you should meet..."

As agreed, I met Haigh in Howard's Way, Bates's upper crust, highly rated but infrequently visited showpiece restaurant. He seemed amiable enough, clearly a Tory, ex public schoolboy with humble roots in nearby Beeston which makes Manor Top look like Monte Carlo.

Haigh seemed amiable enough, but was giving very little away from behind those gleaming white teeth, however I took it as given Bates vacating his office meant he was history and the new owners would be in office imminently.

How wrong was I?

Elland Road was awash with rumours that Bates was making ridiculous demands from Monaco. I heard he wanted the East Stand renaming "The Ken Bates Hesco Bastion East Stand -protecting our troops, people, property, places and profits". Then it was the renaming of Elland Road stadium to the Ken Bates Stadium, apparently Monaco's ground is named after Grace Kelly or someone like that. Bates also wanted the new owners to foot the cost of moving the Billy Bremner statue to the North Stand Car Park and one of him taking its place in the plinth which repetitively played "Jesus Christ Our Saviour".

I just got on with it. I took the lads down to Cornwall, around 55,000 Leeds fans descended on the south-west. It was chance to bond with the ordinary fans who like me, were totally in the dark about the takeover. At Bodmin, they made up some crude song about going back to Warnock's pad for a Barbecue with prostitutes or something like that.

That night in bed, I said to Sharon what a bloody good idea. We could have a barbecue after the Torquay game and charge thousands of Leeds fans to mill around the farm with a burger and a can of Lidl lager in the hope of bumping into Michael Brown or Luke Varney. After all, look how many of the dozy f***ers paid £30 for "An evening with Neil Warnock" not to mention all those outdated autobiography's which were destined for the "99p store".

It was no surprise that 48 hours before the first league game of the season against Wolves, a Pickfords van rolled up to refurnish Bates' office and the deal appeared to be off.

Although I had managed to get one or two players over the line, Paddy Kenny and much swallowing of my pride in signing the Sewer Rat El Hadji Diouf, targets such as Ward went elsewhere. It was some micracle that we managed to beat Wolves 1-0.

"You deserve a medal boss" Jeppo told me at the final whistle.

He was right, as usual.

Chapter Four: A disgraceful night in Sheffield.

Any resemblance to any living person etc.

Photo: Action Images

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