Chương 57: 10.7 - Bodycam

7. Sunday, February 23 The latest blog post from News of the Blues, the leading news and views platform for all things Chester FC. Solid Sealettes Sink Sorry Superwhites Author: D. Cox Chester Women overpowered Tranmere Rovers at the Cae Y Castell stadium today. With Jackie Reaper still sidelined with definitely-not-Covid, Max Best again took the helm and after last week's frantic 8-0 win against Fleetwood there was the expectation of more whirlwind, front-foot football.

Tranmere's manager certainly seemed to expect something of the sort, since she started with an ambitious 4-2-4 formation, clearly hoping to catch Chester on the break. Best had other ideas, and played a simple 4-4-2 with neither full-back pushing forward. This, along with another immense performance from my player of the season so far, Femi, nullified Tranmere's hopes for a fast start and allowed our midfield to take control. Charlotte and Pippa bossed the centre, while Dani and Maddy roamed the wings.

Unlike last week, they had licence to attack Tranmere's full backs. If Best saw that as an area of opportunity, he was right. The first goal came from Dani skinning the right back and setting Angel up for an easy finish, and the second was similar but from the right. [Image alt text: Max Best posing for selfies with two young girls at the side of the pitch.] This was Best's half-time team talk. No, seriously. He didn't even bother going into the changing rooms.

Instead, he spent the fifteen minutes signing autographs, posing for photos, and chatting with anyone and everyone. He even stopped to talk to me. I asked why he wasn't inside. He replied that "Elin is doing half time and she's dead nervous and it's good practice for her."

"Does she work for us?"

"No."

"Then why are we letting her give the half time team talks? Why are we boosting her career?" His reply? An exhausted slump, the word "mate", and him bypassing the next twenty yards of fans before talking to the next person. [Image alt text: Angel scores] Angel left no crumbs. Early in the second half, she slotted home from a tight angle (shot value: 0. 03 xxG) to complete her hat trick, at which point Best used his subs and showed off his repertoire of formations.

4-4-2 diamond, 3-5-2, 4-3-3, and with fifteen minutes to go, a defensive 4-5-1. That, perhaps, was because he brought on Queenie, our 17-year-old goalkeeping prospect, and Lucy, the 43-year-old veteran. There can't have been many subs made involving such an age difference! Chester's tactical flexibility is perhaps best summed up by the huge increase in their PPDA stats (8 to 16) in the final quarter of an hour.

For those unaware of this useful stat, it means we stopped pressing high up the pitch and allowed Tranmere to have the ball. Final Stats Chester-Tranmere Goals: 3-0 xxG: 1. 86-0. 15 Most On Ball Value Added: Dani Smith-Smithe All in all, a very serious and professional performance from a team that never had to get out of first gear. Three goals, three points, and we're one step closer to wrapping up the title. Of course, it wouldn't be a Chester match without a side-dish of off-the-pitch intrigue.

Check out this photo. [Image alt text: A suntanned older man sits next to a beautiful blonde who sits next to a beautiful blonde. All three are laughing.] That's Mateo, the owner of Tranmere Rovers, watching his team get crushed. Why is he laughing? Perhaps it's because he's got Max Best's girlfriend next to him. The taller woman is Brooke Star, whose job title was updated on the club website recently, from 'Head of Number Go Up' to 'Head of Strategy, Troubleshooting, Advertising, and Relationships'.

It's totally normal for Emma and Brooke to be watching Chester, and of course totally normal for Mateo to watch his team. But their cosy relationship does raise some interesting questions. Questions I will not be putting to Max Best because I have annoyed him enough for one week. Is this sus? You decide! Join us on Tuesday night for our liveblog of the Rochdale match! Comments: Three Count Swagula: David, I have a question about your stats.

I've heard of Passes Per Defensive Action (PPDA) but as far as I'm aware such data isn't available for National League matches. What is your source? Also, I've heard of xG but I've never heard of xxG. Can you clarify? Coxy: xxG stands for Expected Expected Goals. It's what my model would expect the xG data to say if the stats were in the public domain. Count Swagula: So you're making it up. Comments on this article are now closed.

Monday, February 24 Closed captions from a video posted on Chester's socials. Wonder Wingers Aff and Wes Take On the Boost the Build Challenge! [On the left of the screen, Henri Lyons is on a stool. He's holding a clipboard. To the right, Aff and Wes are on stools side by side, facing Henri but angled towards the camera. Everyone is in full Chester kit.] Henri: Hello, I'm Henri Lyons, striker, and I'm here with Aff and Wes, not strikers. We're promoting the Boost the Build campaign with a quiz.

I've got a stack of questions here that I haven't seen yet but were written by Max himself, so I'm sure they are... [he sighs]. Okay, question one. This is for Aff. How many season tickets do we need to sell by the end of February? Aff: Oh, start with an easy one, why doncha? Let me see. Last I heard we'd done about half so two fifty. Two hundred and fifty. Henri: I simply need the total. Aff: Five hundred. Henri: Correct. We need to sell five hundred season tickets. Wes. Your first question.

What will the income finance? Wes: A pitch! Like, an all-weather pitch. The first part of the new campus. Henri: I will give you the point but I urge you to remember Max doesn't like the word campus. That could be a bonus question! Why doesn't Max want us to use the word campus? Aff: Aff. Henri: Pardon me? Aff: I'm saying my name like it's a buzzer. Wes: Because we're not a school. Henri: Correct. Aff: Hey! I was first. Wes: You snooze, you lose. Aff: Referee! Henri: [touching his ear.] I'm being told Wes said the answer fastest. Aff: That's a travesty. Henri: Aff, question two. Are the season tickets available now at this year's low low price even though we are, quote, nailed on to get promoted so if you buy now you save money? Aff: Yes. Henri: Correct. Wes, your second question. [Henri reads what's on the card and sighs heavily.] Question two. A French weirdo once wrote a whole book that didn't have the letter E, true or false? What has this to do with the new training ground?

[Henri throws the card away.] Insufferable. Okay, here's a suitable one. Which product does the following description refer to? Crunchy biscuit surrounded by soft cocoa, wrapped in chewy caramel and covered in a generous layer of Cadbury's milk chocolate. Wes: Double Decker? No, Star Bar! Henri: Aff, chance to steal. Aff: Boost! Henri: Correct. Wes: Oh, my God. Boost the Build. I should know how Max's mind works by now. Henri: Aff, your last question.

Our new all-weather pitch will have the exact same dimensions as the redeveloped Deva stadium, true or false? Aff: The Deva pitch will get bigger? Henri: No, slightly smaller, in fact. UEFA and the Premier League would like to standardise pitches at 105 by 68 metres. The Deva is 112 by 71. Aff: So we're getting training pitches that are the same size as what the Deva will be... one day? Henri: That's right. Aff: Wow. That's deadly. Wes: Have you got those numbers written down? [Henri shows the card he's holding. Wes leans forward to check it.] I think you should get a point for knowing all that. Henri: I accept. A new player has entered the game! Wes, it's your last question. What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? Urgh. No. I refuse. [Henri throws up the remaining question cards and leaves.] Aff [to camera]: Boost the Build, Chester fans! Wes: We need your support! Aff: Links in the description. Wes: See you at the grand opening! [They wait, then pretend to relax.] Aff: Did you know the answer?

Wes: It depends if it's an African or European swallow. Aff: Right, yeah. Course. Be grand having our own space, wouldn't it? Wes: I can't wait.

Tuesday, February 25 From an Instagram account with even fewer followers than News of the Blues. Geotagged as 'The Deli', Didsbury, Manchester, England. Aimee: Oh, my God Becky is that who I think it is? [The camera shows Max Best at a restaurant table.] Becky: Shit, yes! Aimee: I'm going over there. Becky: No, don't! I'll die of cringe. Aimee: You coming or what? [Aimee rushes across the restaurant, swings the camera to face Max... and keeps swinging.] Sorry, but you are Sandra Lane? Sandra: Yes.

[The shot is one hundred percent Sandra, zero percent Max.] Aimee: We're such big fans! Oh, my God, I can't believe you're here. Becky: We read all about you in Lionised magazine! You're so amazing! Can I get a selfie? Sandra: Course you can, love. Aimee: What's it like managing all those men? Do they give you shit? Sandra: They're fine as long as we win! [She does a big laugh.] No, really, I get great support from - Aimee: When are you going to move to a bigger club? Max, off-screen: Oi.

Sandra: What team do you support? Aimee: City! Max: Boo. Becky: What's all this? [The camera pans down to formation graphics.] Are you doing match plans in The Deli? Sandra: We are. We're playing Rochdale tonight and we're both from Manchester so we thought we'd hang - Becky: What's the plan? Can you tell us? [Sandra looks across the table with a questioning face. The camera pans to Max but Sandra starts talking so it goes right back. Sandra holds up one of the sheets.] Sandra: Rochdale do 4-4-2 most of the time but we haven't played them this season so we're not completely sure how they'll approach us. This is a rescheduled game, one of our games in hand. It's away, and normally you're a bit more defensive away. We've got a reputation of doing the opposite of what you'd expect so we're going to go... defensive! We'll match their 4-4-2 to start and kind of shush their fans.

It's a bit less progressive than we'd like but then we'll switch the central midfielders out for more creative ones and blitz them at the end with a 4-2-3-1 or a counter-punching 4-1-4-1. We're calling it the reverse mullet: business at the back, party at the front. Aimee: Oh, my God you're so amazing. Becky: So amazing. Max: Ask her about Glendale. Aimee: You what? Becky: What's Glendale? Sandra: [Glares at Max, but quickly cracks a smile.] It's just this company I heard about that offers superior logistics solutions. Aimee: What does that mean? Sandra: [Fighting to keep from laughing.] It's like, if you want someone to tell you why playing 2-6-2 against Grimsby might not work, I'm your woman. If you want a leading credit card or personal loan you call BoshCard. But if you want a superior logistics solution, you call Glendale. Or visit their informative website. Becky: Right...

Sandra: Hey, if you can get to Rochdale tonight, we can get you free tickets. Right? Max: Totes. In the Sandy Lane stand. Aimee: Oh, my God you're so amazing. Becky: So amazing.

BluesNewsSocials: Just found out by chance that tonight's match against Rochdale has been selected as part of the National League's trial of referee bodycams! These have made a difference in player behaviour at grassroots levels and I personally am delighted to see the trial extended. It is not known how much footage will be released to the general public or when. Probably never, if anyone involved remembers the infamous Tony Adams versus David Elleray clash when Arsenal played Millwall!

Arsenal forgot to tell their players the ref was miced up and it got spicy! Strange that Chester FC didn't mention it. Hope they remembered to tell our players, lol!

Match 32 of 46: Rochdale vs Chester Footage taken from the referee's bodycam. One Hour Before Kick Off [The referee's room at the Spotland stadium. The ref and his assistants are kitted up and are relaxing with a pre-match cup of tea. There's a knock at the door.] Max: Wassup? Hold up! It's Luke Wilks, referee to the stars! Luke: Do you say that to everyone? Max: I have no idea. I've set my brain to delete non-essential info after twelve seconds. Assistant 1: What counts as essential? Max: Grudges.

Girlfriend's birthday. Armour value of a dwarf. I've got my team sheet. It's a fucking masterpiece. You're going to love it. Luke: Thanks. [He reads the sheet.] Looks pretty normal. Max: Nah, that's mint, that. That's basically genius. Assistant 1: Let me see. [Max walks around picking things up and putting them down in a slightly different position. The assistant is unimpressed.] It looks like a basic 4-4-2 to me. Max: Hey, you're switched on! Have you done any coaching badges? Assistant 1: No.

Max: If you do, hit me up. Okay, check this out. Where's your tactics board? Luke: We don't have one. We're referees. Max: Ugh. Fine. The key men are here. Magnus Evergreen. [Max looks up at the ceiling.] Luke: What? Max: I really thought there would be trumpets and someone singing 'Hallelujah'. Weird. Okay, him, plus Chipper. Luke: We were wondering if you'd put him back in. Max: Yeah, when I got the email about the thingy. The bodycam wotsit. Where is it, by the way?

Luke: I think at this point it's only fair that I tell you - Max: Here's the genius bit. Chipper's going to give you shit, or not. You're going to let me see the incident. I'm going to make my own mind up about whether he's, er, psychotic. If he is, my bro TJ is going to get an earful from Maxy boy. Assistant 1: What's Magnus got to do with it? Max: Ah! I like you. You're like a terrier. Rrr! You're my favourite. No offence, you two. Okay so here's my plan. Hang on, should I tell you? No, I definitely shouldn't.

So here's my plan. Chipper's going to start and he's going to get progressively angrier through the ninety. I think that's how it goes, anyway. I'm a bit lost with this prick. He's so good but he's just... I spent four days getting the phone number of the manager that got the best out of him. Scottish guy, said he'd be happy to talk to me. He lives in Glasgy, but I've been on Google Maps and I can't find it. I'm a bit embarrassed to call the guy back and say sorry can you give me your postcode. Luke: Glasgow.

Max: No, he said Glasgy. Luke: That's Glasgow in a Scottish accent. Max: [Bleep!] Are you [bleeping] with me, now? Actually, now that I think about it, Glasgow makes a lot of sense. Huh. But that's such a long drive and I decided I would give myself a month to see if I can work it out on my own. You'll see stage one of my plan tonight. Where was I? Assistant 1: Magnus Evergreen. Max: Yeah. Let's just say that by naming him in the team I can switch to almost any formation with just one sub.

Luke: Are you going to play? Max: Yeah. Rochdale is basically home. I feel like I owe it to the good people of Greater Manchester to show them that football isn't all about stodgy, defensive 4-4-2. Assistant 1: And you'll do that by setting your team up in a stodgy, defensive 4-4-2? Max: Seriously, have you ever thought about doing badges? Luke: Please stop paying compliments to my team. Tough match for you, this. Max: Who? Rochdale?

Their senior midfielder's done his knee coz he never got a rest this season, their most important defender's suspended for picking up five yellows, and two of their guys are carrying injuries. It's not even a challenge. Oh, what's this? [He bends down and comes back up with a large, soft-shelled suitcase.] Luke: That's my kit bag. Please don't do that. Max: This brand. Grindhog. What do you think of it? Luke: It's cool, isn't it? That bag was eighty pounds.

Nike has one that's a hundred and forty that's good but it's a bit general. This one's pretty much tailor-made for the referee market. Max: There's a referee market? Luke: Yeah, look. [He taps the bag.] Sort of your normal airport suitcase, right? But with these front compartments I can pack things and know where I'm looking. Hydra tabs, phone charger, the essentials are in here. The wheels roll on any surface. Straps are soft but sturdy and there's one on top, one on the side. Max: For staircases. Luke: Right.

[He unzips the case.] Here in the main compartment I've got my buzzer flags and my main kit. In the mesh area I've got things I don't want to get wet and mucky. My warm up kit, my crime sheet. Max: [Laughs.] Your what? Luke: My crime sheet. That's where I write what you did wrong. Max: Tsch. I've got some Post-It notes somewhere. That's a more suitable size to list what I get wrong. Luke: [Zips the case back up.] It's big enough so I can bring spare boots, spare kit. I get to the stadium, I'm organised.

I'm ready to work. Max: It sounds like someone put some thought into this. Luke: Well, the founder's a former player. Played for your team, didn't he? Max: The founder of Grindhog played for Chester? Luke: No, Tranmere. Max: Oh. Luke: Were you looking to disrupt the sportswear market? He's beaten you to it. Max: Good for him. All right, thanks for that. That was really useful. [Max exits. He re-enters.] You know you can't be offside from your own half, right? Yeah? Okay, have a good game, lads. [Max leaves.] Assistant 2: Bloody hell. We should get a urine test to see what he's on. Luke: Don't be fooled. That guy sees everything. Make sure you're switched on tonight. Assistant 1: He didn't spot the bodycam. I said it was too subtle. The ones in the grassroots trials were massive. Luke: They all know we're wearing them. It's not a secret, is it?

On the Pitch, One Minute Before Kick Off [The players have formed two lines and Chester are moving along, shaking hands with the Rochdale team. Chester's eleven looks as expected. There's no Glenn Ryder. Chipper is making his first start since his red card.] [The players disperse and take up their positions. The ref walks to the centre.] This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Luke: Good to go? [We can't hear the replies from the assistants.] Game on, lads.

[He blows on his Fox 40 Classic and Chipper passes to Henri, who touches it back to James Wise. The pitch is much better than Chester's, but clearly took some damage over the winter.] Three Minutes In [A Chester player is running through on goal, chased by some worried defenders. Two have a hand up. The referee glances at his assistant, whose flag is held above his head.] [Peep!] The Rochdale players stop. Chipper: [Kicking the ball at goal, then turning to reveal a face of thunder.] What's that for?

Luke: You were offside. Chipper: I [bleeping] wasn't! That's a bloody lie. Luke: Don't kick the ball away. Chipper: I'll [bleeping] kick the ball anywhere I want because I wasn't offside and you know it. Luke: Could you just - Chipper: Get stuffed, you. Offside, my back side. You're as useful as a pair of sunglasses on a man with one ear. Henri: Come now, Chip. It was a good run. We'll do that again. Four Minutes [Henri goes up for a header. He knocks it square to Chipper, who uses his strength to hold off a defender. Their tussle gets more and more aggressive until they both topple to the turf.] Both players get up and scream at each other and the approaching referee. Chipper: The [bleep]! The [bleeping] bastard [bleeping] suplexed me! Defender: [Bleep] you, you [bleep]! [Bleep] elbowed me! Nearly broke my rib! [He lifts his shirt and points to a spot that appears undamaged.] Chipper: Going topless, are we? Comparing war wounds? See here!

[Chipper raises his shirt.] See that scar? Got that on the USS Indianapolis. [He lets his top fall as he realises the others aren't paying attention.] What? Where are you off to? Where's the yellow card, ref? [Bleeping] book him! Luke: It's a foul. Free kick. The end. Come on, let's get on with it. Chipper: That's a [bleeping] joke, that. That's a joke. You're a joke. Absolutely [bleeping] useless, you. Henri: Come away. Five Minutes [Rochdale attack down the middle. Christian Fierce slides in with a huge tackle. The ref has to jump to avoid touching the ball. He turns, but a Rochdale midfielder has played the ball first time into the space Fierce vacated. Rochdale's second striker latches onto it and takes it towards Chester's goal. Zach Green slides in to block but the striker cuts back onto his left foot and scuffs a shot past Ben. Rochdale's players run to the closest home fans and celebrate.] [Luke brings the whistle to his mouth but hesitates. He jogs towards the assistant.] Luke: That wasn't offside, was it?

Assistant 2: No, Luke. Good goal. [Luke blows and points to the centre circle. Rochdale celebrate a second time.] Seven Minutes [The ball is with Eddie Moore on the left. He plays it forward to Aff, who is tackled from behind. Aff crumples. The ref whistles and sprints to the scene but is outpaced by a Welshman. Chipper pushes Rochdale's right back.] Chipper: You snide [bleep]! Right back: What's it got to do with you? Henri: Ref, that's a clear yellow card. Orange, even. Centre back: Pipe down, froggy.

Right back: Yeah. Fuck off back to France. Chipper: [So angry he takes on an aura of extreme calm. Only the eyes speak the truth.] You'll pay for that, English. Luke: Ready to play, guys. Christian Fierce: Chipper, that's enough. You heard the boss. Get in, three points, get out. Chipper: The boss. Right. [Scoffs.] Three points for our title challenge. Fierce: Aff, you good? Aff: Yeah. Need a sec. Nine Minutes [The ball's played from Magnus to Pascal. The German feints to return the pass but lets the ball run a fraction more then pushes it down the line. He sprints and the panicked left back feels he has no choice but to wrestle his much faster opponent to the ground. Pascal slaps the turf in frustration. The incident takes place in front of the Chester dugout. Vimsy and Sandra are up in arms. The camera jiggles towards Max - he's leaning back, hoodie pulled down.] [Peep!] [The ref arrives on the scene and we see a flash of yellow as he takes a card out of his pocket. Rochdale's defender looks up at it.] Defender: [Holding up a finger.] That was my first one! Vimsy: Ref! That's red! This isn't Wrestlemania! Chipper: Oh, thank [bleep]! The ref's found his cards. [Bleeping] amazing! You should do magic tricks. Kid's birthdays. Hospitals. Who's the bastard in the black, is that my doctor? No, son, that's your birthday present. We've hired a clown. Luke: Cut that out.

I'm not having that. Chipper: I don't give a flying [bleep] what you think you're having. You're [bleep], you've never played the game, and you're out of your depth. You couldn't referee a game of Snap. Henri: Chiiip. Luke: I'm warning you - Chipper: I'm warning you. You let one more snide foul go and it's going to kick off and it's going to be your fault. [We see the flash of yellow again. Chipper looks up in disbelief. The ref produces a little notebook and we see him write two names and numbers inside.] What's that for? Are you stupid? What the hell do you - [Chipper stops, mid-stream, and stares gobsmacked at the touchline. Wes Hayward is there, stretching his hamstrings, ready to come on. The assistant referee is pushing buttons on the signal board. Chipper has a dazed look as he wanders towards Wes. Wes holds his hands up for a high ten, doesn't get one, and runs on. Chipper heads straight down the tunnel.] Luke: Thank [bleep] for that.

Ten Minutes [A Rochdale player is getting a potential injury checked by their physio. Some players are taking the opportunity to take a drink.] Luke: [Softly-spoken] Hayward. Wes: Yes, ref? Luke: I thought you were a winger. Wes: Yeah, that's right. Luke: There's three wingers, now, but none of you are playing out wide. What's going on? Wes: 4-2-3-1, ref. Luke: Oh! So simple. Thanks. Hey, what's with that Welsh lad? Needs some anger management? Wes: Don't know him that well, to be honest.

He's all right, you know, around training and that. Flips a switch when he crosses that white line. Luke: I don't understand why he went so hard at me knowing the cameras are on. Wes: Cameras? Fifteen Minutes [There's another injury delay.] Luke: Hayward. Wes: Yes, ref? Luke: This isn't 4-2-3-1. Wes: No, we switched. Luke: When? Wes: We're doing 4-4-2 again but Pascal's a CAM. Sort of 4-4-1-1. Luke: I see. Desperate, is he? Scrabbling around? Wes: Who? Luke: Superbrat. Wes: Ha! Not heard that one.

You ask me, Rochdale are making a mistake. They need to push on and get another goal because we're in energy saving mode now. Luke: Oh, is that what you call it? Wes: Trust the process, ref. [Wes wanders off to get a drink.] Twenty-Nine Minutes [Chester have a corner. Aff whips it in. It looks like Christian Fierce heads the ball over. The Chester players jog back to their positions except for Zach, who is rubbing his head. A Rochdale player is prone. The goalie signals frantically.] Luke: Physio, please.

Fast as you like. [The physio runs on to check the stricken player. The ref goes to the area and watches.] Physio: Bit of a blow to the head. I'll do a concussion protocol. Defender: No you [bleeping] won't! I'm fine! Nothing wrong with me. Luke: I'm gonna get a drink. [The ref goes to the space between the dugouts and picks up a plastic bottle. He turns to see Max Best is off his arse for the first time. His hood's pulled down and he's scowling at Rochdale's physio. Nearby, Chester's physio is trying to hold Zach's head but the American isn't keen.] Max: Stay the [bleep] still for [bleep] sake! [Zach obeys. Max takes a couple of strides closer and peers at Zach.] Dean, can you do something about this nose? It's off centre, isn't it? Dean: It's not my area of expertise, Max. Max: Zach, let's circulate the ball for the rest of the half. Horseshoe. As boring as you can stand, yeah? Make them shuffle and slide. Don't worry about your running stats or the expected threat.

Zach: Sterile possession? Max: Yes, please. Either these guys aren't fit or the lack of rotation is really getting to them. Wear them out. Zach: Got it. Do you really think my nose is off-centre? Max: Could be that your eyes are wonky. Oh, hey! Hey! Ref! Luke: Yes, Best? Max: Please do not tell me you're going to let that guy keep playing? Luke: Looks like their physio's cleared him. [Max goes towards the home dugout. There's lots of finger pointing.] Max: Oi! That guy's got concussion!

Rochdale's manager: Get [bleeped]. He's fine. What do you know? You just want him off. Max: Oh, this crap again. [Bleep] me, he's not Paolo Maldini, is he? The [bleep] difference does it make to how you're gonna play? His brain's had a trauma, you prick. I hope you've got liability insurance. [He jabs at the manager, the returning physio, and the ref in turn.] You're a disgrace, shame on you, shame on you. Luke: Me?

Max: The guy's brain's taken a fucking smack and you're gonna let him run around until he [bleeping] collapses? That's on you. That's on you. [He jabs at the physio again.] I'm gonna get you struck off. You're pathetic. Vimsy: That's enough, boss. Come away. [Vimsy coaxes Max away from the enemy. Max kicks a bottle and seethes.] Max: Let's fuck them up. Sandra: Let's stick to the plan. Max: [Tuts.] Sandraaaa. Sandra: You're never going to get featured in Lionised magazine if you lose your cool like that.

Max: [Laughs.] Okay. [He pulls his hood back up.] Dean, will you keep an eye on that 5, please? Dean: Yes, Max. Half Time. The Referee's Room. Luke: That was a tough half. Bloody hell. Not quite Czech Republic versus Turkey but... Assistant 1: What was the argument? Luke: [Laughs.] Which one? Assistant 1: Between the managers. Luke: Best got it into his head that there was a concussion. Had a hissy fit. Assistant 1: Oh. After that corner? Luke: Yes. Why do you ask?

Assistant 1: When the guy got up he had a bit of a wobble. I was surprised he continued. [Knock on door. It opens. Rochdale's assistant manager pokes his head in.] Man: Hi. Quick thing. We're subbing off 5 and bringing on 19. Thanks. [Closes the door behind him.] [The door opens.] Max: Knock knock! Luke: You can't come in here. Off limits at half time. Max: Yeah yeah yeah. I need to see the yellow card incident. Luke: I can't now, can I? Max: Why not? Luke: It's... Max: You don't know how to do playback, do you?

Luke: I do, but... I don't think you get the footage for a while. I'm not sure you get it at all. It's up to the National League. Max: Look, I only need the first nine minutes and I swear on my mum's life I won't distribute it or make you look bad or whatever. I just need to know what the guy was saying. Okay? I'm trying to get better behaviour from my players which is the whole point of this thing. Luke: Is that why you subbed him off? Because he got a yellow? Max: Yellow for dissent, yeah.

Our season's in a lull so why not do some experiments? Sort of an inverse Pavlov thing. Ring the bell, I take your food away. [He laughs.] I promised my boss I'd at least try to get through to the guy and if I've got those scenes he can't lie about what he said. Maybe there's a redemption arc possible. Luke: I don't know how to do it. I press record and don't touch it until we're done. It's dead fiddly. Assistant 1: I can help. Luke: No, I'll work it out. Max: Top top top.

So, leave it running like you said and I'll come back at full time. [He closes the door behind him.] Luke: [Big sigh. He slides his case out and opens zips.] Where's the manual? Assistant 1: I thought this was hyper-organised? Luke: Oh, do shut up. Seventy Minutes [There are subs waiting on the touchline. Luke watches as James Wise and Aff depart, to be replaced by Ryan Jack and Max.] Seventy-One Minutes [Zach plays a pass through Rochdale's strikers to Magnus. He touches it first time to Ryan. Ryan sweeps it on to Max, who is in an advanced position. Max chips over the defence. Sharky races after it. He blasts the ball well wide.] [Rochdale's goalkeeper walks to the other side of his goal to get a drink. The ref approaches him.] Luke: None of that! Hurry it up. [The ref's move has brought him within earshot of Max. He's talking to Wes Hayward.] Max: It wasn't the worst shot of the season but it was top ten. Youngster's got the top three nailed down. Wes: [Laughing.] If you're comparing my shooting to Youngster, I know I've [bleeped] up. [He looks up.] Sorry, boss. Max: Don't worry about it. Next time, if you could maybe pass to the unmarked guy who's got an open goal, that would be tremendously helpful. Wes: I know. I just want to get that equaliser. Max: Sometimes when I want to win a match I think, gosh, what was the thing I practised a million times in training? And I do that. Wes: [Laughing.] I know. Okay. Got it. Max: The goals will come.

They're already blowing and we've not even turned on the pressure yet. Hey, ref. Ref! Have you ever been to Gibraltar? Luke: No. Max: I could have flown to Gibraltar and back by the time this goal kick was taken. [Peep peep peep]. Luke: Hurry up! Seventy-Three Minutes [Max has dropped to the centre of midfield and is exchanging short passes with Ryan Jack. No Rochdale player is keen to stop them.] Max: Boo! Boo, Rochdale, boo. [He laughs.] Hello? Anybody home? [He laughs some more.] Fine.

[He pushes the ball forward, accelerates, slaloms between two midfielders, plays a one-two with Pascal, shapes to shoot, instead slips the ball through a defender's legs. Henri takes a right-footed touch and scores with his left. Most Chester players wheel away to celebrate. Max ambles towards the dugout. He says something to the Rochdale bench that causes a ruckus.] Luke: [Running.] Hey! Hey! Relax. Cut it out! Max [poking out from behind Vimsy]: Yeah, cut it out you lot. Luke: What did you say to them?

Max: I asked if they'd be willing to answer a short questionnaire about whether their current tactics were meeting their needs and they went nuts! I promised it would take no more than a minute. There's no pleasing some people. Luke: Can you stop instigating things, please? Max: Me? [Loudly] Sandra I think we should do 4-5-1 men behind ball and hold on for a point. What do you think? Luke: Don't talk to them again. Okay? Talk to them again I'll book you. Max: Can I do gestures? Luke: [Deep sigh.] Seventy-Five Minutes [Chester have a throw-in on the right. Max is being man-marked. Max is man-marking the referee.] Max: Ref! This guy's following me! Luke: He's allowed. Max: I saw him in the toilet and he didn't wash his hands. Marker: [Bleep] you. Max: Can you make him go and wash his hands before he pulls my shirt again? Luke: No. [The ref jogs backwards to be closer to the ball.] Max: Wrong way, ref! It's coming to me. [The ref turns around and jogs towards Chester's defenders. Christian Fierce plays a simple pass with customary care. Zach clips the ball first-time into a huge pocket of space on the left, midway through Rochdale's half. Max is zooming after it and his first touch takes it another ten yards forward.] Luke: Shit! [Best glances across the pitch as he sprints.] Max: Henri! One-two! [Max goes to pass - the ref turns to follow the ball - the ref realises he's been faked and when he looks back, Best is rolling around on the grass.] Luke: Shitting shit! [He looks left. The assistant on that side is waving his flag urgently.] [Peep!] [The ref jogs over to his assistant.] Luke: What did you see? Assistant 1: Best did him with a stepover. Clear foul. Luke: Penalty? Assistant 1: Hundred percent. [Peep!] Rochdale players: You're joking! No [bleeping] way! What the [bleep]? He didn't touch him! It was outside the box! Seventy-Six Minutes [The ref is walking along the edge of the penalty box warning players not to encroach before the kick is taken.] Max: Holy [bleep]!

Christian, get everyone on the halfway line. Fierce: Pardon me, boss? Max: This is [bleeping] tedious. We're in the entertainment industry. These fans haven't come to watch this ref have one-on-one chats with everyone on the pitch. What the [bleep] are we doing? Get everyone away so I can score and we can get on with our lives. Seriously. Fierce: What about rebounds? Max: There isn't going to be a rebound! We're not playing, er... What was the name of that game with the blocks?

You had to paddle a ball to hit the blocks? Rochdale player: Breakout. Max: Right! That sounds right. I like you. I'm not going to savage you in the media after. But you realise you're out of position, right? You're supposed to be like four yards wider and two yards further forward. Rochdale player: What? Max: Didn't you realise your gaffer switched formation? Oh, mate. Luke: Are you going to take the penalty? Max: I've been waiting for twenty minutes!

[He spots the ball and stares at the ref with a sarcastic, gormless look on his face.] [Peep!] [Max mutters to himself for five seconds, then approaches the ball. The goalie dives right; Max scores left.] Max: [Groans.] Seventy-sixth minute! Why didn't I let you drag it out to the seventy-seventh? [He jogs in the direction of the away fans.] Eighty Minutes [Rochdale are pushing for an equaliser. Chester seem to have gone ultra-defensive to protect their lead. There's a contest that leaves Carl Carlile on the ground.] Luke: Play on! No foul there! [A winger hits a cross. Christian Fierce jumps and heads it miles away. Ryan Jack scampers after it. He looks around and turns backwards.] Luke [to himself]: Safety first. [Ryan plays the ball square into the path of Max who is surging clear of two Rochdale players like the winner of an Olympic heat. Max sprays a thirty-yard pass angled left, into Wes Hayward's path. He doesn't need to break stride to gather it.] Luke: Whoa.

[The ref tries to follow the play, but Hayward on the left and Pascal on the right are far too fast. By the time he gets into Rochdale's half, the players are already jumping into each other's arms.] [Peep!] [Most Chester players head towards the away fans. One comes up next to the ref.] Max: See this tactic? We're calling it a reverse mullet. Good, innit? How long's left, like ten plus four? Luke: [Panting.] Something like that. Max: What do you reckon?

Take the piss and run up the score or go men behind ball to save energy? Luke: You said... entertainment... industry. Max: Yeah, well, I'm bored. Who's going to entertain me? Eighty-two Minutes [Rochdale are pressing but now they've seen how Chester's wingers can break, the home team are keeping their full backs in the defensive line. Chester seem content to defend. There's a tussle thirty-five yards from Chester's goal between Magnus and a Rochdale player. The ref gives a foul to Chester.] Rochdale's number 17: No way! No [bleeping] way! That's our free kick! Max: Uh-oh! Sweet seventeen has a potty mouth. Seventeen: Who died and made you ref? Keep out of this. Max: Thing is, you're telling the ref he's made a mistake but you are having a shocker. 11 completed passes from an attempted 17. That's not even 65%, bro. How about you do three passes in a row and then you get to have a pop at the ref? Hey? Seventeen: You think you're funny. Max: What's really funny is that you were right.

It should have been your kick. [Max wanders off.] Magnus. You lost position, didn't you? Magnus: Switched off for a second. Max: Yeah, saw it. Remind me to teach you about mindfulness. Magnus: [Laughs.] Yes, boss. Max: It's all about being present in the moment. But that duel, there. You can let him have it. Magnus: What, really? Max: Yeah. He's right-footed, isn't he? And you're on his right side. He can't pass right or shoot. Imagine he's on the ball in that spot, turning left. Not much risk, is there?

Magnus: Not compared to the free kick, no. I understand. Max: I get it, mate. When you're scrapping you need to compete. Fight to the death! But if you can... Magnus: Yes, boss. Seventeen: What a freak show. Max: Ref! He's being mean! Luke: Would you please stop coaching your player and take the free kick? Max: It would be an honour and a privilege. As soon as this prick moves back ten yards. Luke: Take the free kick! Max: Ah, we're back to ignoring the laws of the sport again. Talk about whiplash!

[Max slaps the underside of the ball and it shoots off down the line, destined to go out of play. Backspin kicks in and Pascal catches up with it. He tries to control it and it hits his shin and goes out for a goal kick. He berates himself in German. Max jogs over and puts an arm around Pascal's shoulder. Max whispers something while covering his mouth with his hand. Pascal nods and sucks in a breath. He stands taller.] Ninety Minutes Max: How long, ref? Luke: Four minutes. Max: Why? Everyone wants to go home.

Call it two and you've got a deal. Luke: Four minutes, Best. Max: Lyons, Bochum, Best. Again! Luke: What? Max: We've scored three goals in our last two games and had the same three scorers. Mad, that, innit? [The ref backpedals away from Best. Best raises his eyebrows at a Rochdale player.] Hey, you! You! Is your agent really called Terry Bull? Is he a Terry Bull agent? Did you get a Terry Bull deal? Hey! Come back!

Full Time [The ref and his assistants have gathered side-by-side and are waiting a few yards infield from the dugouts. Players are coming over to shake their hands. Zach guides a confused-seeming Max into position.] Zach: Thanks, ref. Good game. Good game, fellas. Appreciate it. Max: Yeah, well done. Er, listen, though. I will have to rinse you in the media. Zach: Boss. Max: No, but listen, Zach.

I dived for the penalty, they missed a handball in the build-up to our third goal, and I left a suspicious package in their toilet that they didn't report to stadium security. Zach: [Sharp intake of breath.] What. Max: I'm joking, Zach. I'm joshing. I'm doing some British humour. Zach: So did you dive or not? Max: Of course I did. But I didn't. Or did I? Or didn't I? Zach: Answer the following question: Should it have been a penalty? Max: The referee is always right. Zach: Did the guy kick you?

Max: He kicked me four times today. Zach: Did he kick you in the penalty box? Max: Did you thank the fans? Zach: Did you? Max: I'm busy helping the refs improve! Get over there. [Zach rolls his eyes and jogs away.] Luke: Did you dive, though? Max: No. I was going to do a left-footed thunderbolt into the top-right. All right, we're done here, yeah? I'll get that footage from you and then I'm off. Gonna stay in town and see my mum after breakfast. Might do some shopping where no-one recognises me.

They sell that Grindhog stuff everywhere, right? Luke: Most places, yeah. You don't seem too fussed about a 3-1 away win. Where does this leave you in the table? Max: Fifth. Fifteen points behind, two games in hand. Fifteen goal difference worse off. Assistant 1: Why are you talking about Grimsby? Max: [Looks at the bodycam.] No reason. Bye!

Thursday, February 27 Video from the Instagram account of former England player turned Everton coach, Sam Bedford. [Sam is a serious-looking man who thinks before he speaks but always has a hint of a smile playing around his lips. He looks like the lovechild of Ralph Fiennes and Kramer from Seinfeld. But in a good way.] Sam, selfie mode: Some strange goings-on at the training ground today. Lot of activity on pitch 8. Checking the schedule... [He picks up some papers.] That's not got anyone booked.

Let's go investigate! [Cut.] [We're back and Ryan Jack is breathing heavily next to Pascal, who is also struggling. Max Best is beside him, lightly sweating but not out of breath.] Sam: It's me old mucker Ryan! Ryan Jack. Been too long, mate. How you been? And why are you here? Ryan: Yeah, I did me ACL. Sam: I heard, yeah. Ryan: Been in rehab and working my way back. Physios here have been boss, looking out for me. I'm at Chester now and it's sweet as but they've not got all the facilities like.

This is me manager 'ere, Max Best. He said you're fit now, why don't we come and do a session while the Everton physios watch and that'll be like a sign-off that I'm back. It's not logical, like, but you can't argue with football managers, can you? Sam: Stubborn, aren't they? Ryan: This one's got it bad. Max, can you talk? I need a minute. [Ryan puts his hands on top of his head and suffers.] Max: We did a basic passing and skills session under the watchful eyes of some superstar Premier League physios and someone said yeah but wouldn't it be better to see him in action? Like a proper match? [Pascal gives Max a sharp look but doesn't say anything.] So one of your coaches found a few lads for us to have a little five-a-side against. Lads from your under-23s and... [he laughs]. Let's just say they know how to play football! We ended up playing six against five and we could barely get a touch.

Sam: You seem pretty happy about it. Max: Oh, I'm made up. They're amazing, those kids! Proper footballers, really clever, though I don't think that right back will be getting a Christmas card from Angel. Sam: You brought one of your female players? Max: Yeah. Pascal, what did you make of it? Pascal, despondent: They were far too good. Too fast, impeccable technique, perfect pressing. I am so far behind. Max: [Laughs.] You're not that far behind. Don't catastrophise! Sam: What's your position, la?

Pascal: Midfield or forward. Max: He's friends with Dieter Bauer. Sam: Wait, what? Pascal: [Slight grin.] I'm not. Max: He's got him on speed dial. Pascal: [Smile.] I don't. Sam: Ryan, looks like you've landed in an interesting group. Ryan: It's the most fun I've had since Everton, Sam. Fifteen years later I'm back in love with the game. Sam: Wow. We need to talk, man! Max: You played for England, right? Do you know anyone in the setup? Sam: You want to play for England, la?

Max: Yeah, Max Best, England's player-manager. [Scoffs.] I've got some players they should look at. Under eighteens and all that. Sam: Might be able to help, yeah. Make a couple of calls. Ryan, is this guy on the level? Ryan: [Shakes his head.] The way we're feeling about those under 23s, that's how they're feeling about him. Bloody non-stop nutmegs. Bloody show-off. But if he says these girls can play for England, they can. Max: [Looks behind.] Shh! Girl. Girl singular. Ryan: What? Max: I'll explain it later.

Ryan: Can I invite Sam to karaoke? Max: Definitely. Ryan: We've hired a pub. Turned it into a big karaoke night. Sam: Haven't you got a match this weekend? Ryan: Players are going dry. Vimsy's our sin-drinker. He could use some help. Sam: Haha! Let me turn this thing off before I talk about going out on the lash. Okay, viewers! Mystery solved! It was Ryan Jack. Return of the Jack, you know it can't be bad. Max: Whoa! Let's sing that tonight! Ryan, that should be your song! That's mint!

Photos (eventually) uploaded to the creaking website of The Bishop's Rick pub in Cheshire. The photos are followed by supporting text written by the landlord. [Glenn Ryder, Christian Fierce, Zach Green, dressed in 'defender casual' clothing, arms wrapped around their mates to the extent possible. Each has a mic. All are crooning.] Chester FC centre backs belt out 'My Way'. Terrible choice, too slow, what were they thinking? They saw it through to the extremely bitter end, despite the whistles and boos.

4/10, stick to looking awesome in marketing materials. [Andrew, Michael, and Noah Harrison, dressed in increasing levels of daring and displaying emotions ranging from terrified (Andrew) to attention-seeking (Noah).] The Harrison triplets sing Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham! Good fun, got everyone clapping, no-one likes a show-off, Noah! I could do the splits, too, if I wanted, but I choose not to for religious reasons. 7/10, enjoyed this and they're a lovely bunch.

Good on 'em for sticking together through thick and thin. Hope they all make it. [Ben Cavanagh, Sticky, and Rainman sharing one microphone, giving a feeling of intense camaraderie and togetherness.] Chester's goalies sing Shoplifters of the World Unite, a mournful Smiths song. Why? Because they changed the first word to 'goalkeepers'. A for effort, E for eee my ears are bleeding. 4/10 would not recommend. [Henri Lyons in a short-sleeve t-shirt featuring a snake eating itself. He is, of course, holding an acoustic guitar and is not using any of the karaoke equipment.] The French striker sings 'Believe' by Cher. I laughed out loud when he started, but he ignored me and the many like me and sang from the heart, with conviction. The cheers at the end nearly brought the house down, and to my surprise he packed up after one ditty. Who knew the French could be both tasteful and restrained?

10/10, flawless, and he was very polite in the way he let down Jenny who was pulling pints while trying to pull players. [Max Best, solo.] [Max Best, centre of the entire squad.] The manager announces he will sing 'Africa by Togo'. I think he got the band's name wrong on purpose, and I was keen to hear him attempt the high notes. Instead, Someone Like You by Adele started and the lads rushed forward to grab the available mics. Soon everyone was singing whether they had a mic or not.

Max Best's singing voice: 7/10. Song choice: 10/10. Goosebumps: yes. Love this group of lads. Come on, Chester!

Friday, February 28 TikTok account from a rando in Chester. [The guy's face is the entire shot.]"So, no way! Total madness just happened! You know my Granddad Dave passed away and we were selling off his old memorabilia - sounds horrible to say it like that! We're not ghouls, I promise! - Anyway he was a big Chester fan and had this pin, right, that we put online and a chap wanted to buy it. It's just a little pin badge thing that said Chester City on it, half black, half white.

"This guy, Clinton, says can we hold it for him and he'll come Friday and I'm thinking mate, there isn't a queue of people wanting to buy this old pin, right? [Weird, snorting laugh.] Knock on the door, hi I'm Clinton. No you're not, you're Max Best! I'm definitely Clinton, he says. I'll show you my passport oh no it's in me other car. Right where's this pin?

"So we go and he sees it and he loves it! Look at it, he says. It's class. He can barely take his eyes off it and I sense the chance to get rid of some of the clutter. I say, I've got boxes of Chester City stuff if you want; we don't know what to do with it. Let's have a look, he says. And we spend like an hour on the floor in my living room going through granddad's old match programmes and scarves and cigarette cards and Panini stickers.

"Max Best - sorry, Clinton - he can't get enough of it all! He's like, wow, your granddad was a proper fan, look how many games he went to. Oh, and he was a tactician, too! And I say, what? So he shows me the backs of some of the programmes and there's all notes on there and it's gibberish to me but Max reckons Granddad Dave was making notes on opposition players like how good they were at being in the right place, heading, things like that. Score out of ten.

'Your Granddad invented Soccer Supremo before there was even a computer in Chester, mate'.

"We talked and he asked questions like oh when did your grandad go to Italy and I realised I didn't know anything about him, really. He was just me granddad. Suddenly Max goes, ugh, I've got to go. How much do you want for this? I'm like what? It's junk. He looks in his pocket and goes I've got two hundred in cash. I'm scratching my head but it doesn't feel right to ask for money. It's like, this stranger understands my Granddad Dave more than I did.

"So I say five pounds for the pin and the rest is gratis. He says you drive a hard bargain but I accept. Do you go to games, he says. I say footy's not my thing. It's boring. He says yeah it is that's why God invented beer and singing. Don't come this weekend but come near the end of the season we'll put on a show for you. And he left in a shit car and now I'm not sure it was even him or if I got scammed somehow or what's going on! [Weird, snorting laugh.] So random!"

News of the Blues Spotted! Look who's back out scouting in Chester after a long absence! Photo taken at Goals. [Image alt text: Max Best and a very bored Henri Lyon are watching a five-a-side match through the big net at the side of the pitch.] If you're hoping to get scouted, now's the time to get back into your Sunday League or futsal team! Now, where did I put my indoor trainers?

Saturday, March 1 Views of the Blues - Chester 1 Maidenhead 0 First Impressions! Summary: Slightly underwhelming performance, this. Neither team was much use going forward but our better quality in the final thirds saw us through. Zach Green was immense defensively, and Andrew Harrison scored after a neat bit of play from Chipper. Maidenhead didn't offer much and Best seemed content to grind out a one-nil. Full match report to follow! Formation: 4-4-2 Line up: GK: Ben. Back four: Cole, Glenn, Zach, Magnus.

Midfield: Josh, Ryan, Andrew, Sharky. Strikers: Henri, Chipper. Subs: Sticky, Fierce, Wisey, Best, Ziggy. Bullet Points: We are fourth! Fourth in the National League! The pitch was bad but visibly better. It's two weeks until the next home game so fingers crossed the groundsman will be able to eke out a few more blades of grass. Lots of rotation again. It's hard to say who's a second-string player but the whole squad is being used. I didn't think about Youngster the whole afternoon!

Ghana look like going deep into AFCON but we have a squad that can cope with his absence. It is now possible to say that our second string can beat some National League sides. That thought is jarring and scarcely believable given the overall narrative. Certain people might want to reconsider certain opinions. My WhatsApp groups gave man of the match to either Zach or Andrew Harrison. Ryan Jack was replaced by James Wise at half time.

Neither player is used to this kind of rotation and we can only hope Best doesn't drive them out of the club. He himself seems fine playing twenty minutes here and there but most players derive their self-worth by how much they play. Case in point - Chipper. He was subbed off immediately after getting a yellow card, apparently for mouthing off to the referee, after forty minutes. He has come down two divisions to help us and he did not look happy, to say the least. Best is playing with fire on this one.

To be fair to the manager, he got the win while resting six key players: Christian Fierce, Eddie Moore, Carl Carlile, Aff, Pascal Bochum, and Best himself. He only used two subs - presumably he would have come on if Maidenhead had snuck an equaliser. The squad is looking remarkably healthy for this time of year ahead of a vital week in which we face arduous away trips to Fylde and Grimsby. Grimsby won 2-0. Barnet drew. Some people I know are starting to wonder how high we can finish. We're close to Solihull (how?) with games in hand. We're ahead of Oldham, Gateshead, and Aldershot but we have to play all three. From our current position we should finish in the top seven. Can we finish third and get a bye in the first playoff match? I think yes, but only if Best finds a way to integrate Chipper. Some fans who should know better have looked at our form and our best eleven and have begun to ask a question that is insipid, childish...

and in my humble opinion speaks to the reason the Boost the Build campaign was such a success. For all the chaos and division Max Best causes, he wins football matches and he gets us thinking. Wondering. Asking the stupidest question a Chester fan should ever ask. He makes us look up the league table, not to fourth or third or second. He makes us look all the way up and ask... Could we?