It was Ken Bates who tipped me off about local hack Phil Hay and how anti-Leeds he was but to quote the chairman and Adolf Hitler in fact, beware the enemy within.

I could deal with Hay, a pasty-faced, thin-lipped, semi Scotch lightbulb head, however I never really gelled with Neil Redfearn. I don't think he liked it when I interrupted his clueless performance against Donny Rovers at half time, telling him (jokingly) to bugger off and sweep up and tidy up the training bibs. Then there was the lad Naylor, 100% dyed-in-the-wool Leeds and he let everyone know it.

The trouble I had was the academy seemed at odds to what I wanted to do, Redfearn kept telling me that the boy Poleon was ready for the first team and granted he scored a lucky tap-in against Forest. So I sent him to Blackie at Bury. I've always been astonished that there is no permanent tribute to Blackie at Leeds after all he did, I mean we have Don Revie's statue and stand, Howard's bloody Way diner, anyroad Blackies verdict was fair enough "The lazy f*** won't chase the long ball gaffer."

So I sent him to my beloved Sheffield United, if he was that good Bury would not have been relegated and United would have come up!

However what underlined the us and them attitude at Thorp Arch came on the Monday after Watford had done us 6-1 at home in November, luckily in my opinion. On a Monday after we had lost, I got used to sarcastic smiles and waves from the apprentices, if I'd behaved like that when I'd been on the ground staff at Chesterfield I'd have got a clip round the ear for my trouble cheeky young buggers and national service wouldn't do em any harm.

On that particular Monday, Mick Jones come to my office and said "Boss they're having a f***ing party on the indoor training pitches" I got up, stormed over and I was right, all the apprentices were sitting there around two long tables with party hats on, balloons, tucking in to ice-cream and jelly.

I spun round and saw Redfearn shaking hands with his dark-skinned bloke in a suit and laughing, I stormed over and spoke my mind "Some idea of a f***ing joke is this eh Redfearn? Tek piss out of Warnock cos he got done at weekend 6-1 by a bunch of borrowed eye-ties aye! Bloody Zola gets a family with some money but what do I get eh? Six months of haggling between a senile pensioner and a bunch of f***ing Arabs!"

Naylor came and joined us, I turned on him. "And I might ask what the f*** are these apprentice are lads doing scoffing ice cream and jelly? when I told you to get em working on t' second f*****g ball!"

Naylor replied quietly "The apprentice lads are out on the pitches Neil working on the second f*****g ball just like you said" he rolled his eyes.

"So who the f*** are this lot?" I asked.

Turned out I'd stumbled in on a birthday party. The bloke talking to Redfearn apparently was a Saudi billionaire, a lifelong Leeds fan who Bates had allowed to have his sons seventh birthday party at Thorp Arch. He'd kitted them all out in training gear, thought the little buggers looked a bit short and dark-skinned.

Apoarently Bates had got pissed off with GFHC cos the deal had been held up yet again, this time an Imam was checking the Koran to find out whether or not the sale of rollover hotdogs was compatible with Islamic law. What a load of old bollocks, you name me a corner shop where you can't buy 20 B&H, 4 Stella's and a packet of pork scratchings.

So this Saudi was coming in at the 11th hour. Bates was primed to f*** GFHC off but having heard my tirade, this Saudi was going mad, ushering his crying kids out and within an hour Shaun Harvey was on the phone telling me Bates was going apoleptic in Monte Carlo.

Part 6: "The day I lost Becchio in Barnsley"

Any resemblance to any living person etc...

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