This is for you James, hope you like it

So it had taken yet another half-time soul-bearing, plate throwing, pathetic pleading experience to get the team to do what they are clearly capable of. But at the end of the game you don't care, it was a great comeback and I felt very proud of the guys.

It certainly put me in a better position for my Monday morning visit to see Roig. Lucy had arrived back late last night and I decided to drag her along too for her calming influence. She seemed pretty chilled after getting her fix of English rain and reality TV.

We found out which room he was in and I stuck my head in the door but just saw a frail old man reading the paper. I tried the next room, no luck. I checked with a different nurse to make sure we had the right ward and she led me back to the first room again. The frail old man put down his paper and gave a weak smile. The old guy had never looked less frightening.

We pulled up chairs and tried not to look at all the machines around his bed. He looked pretty pale but when he looked at you it was clear that he had not lost any of his fire (or maybe it was his medication).

"a game of 2 halves yes?"

He spoke much slower than before and seemed a little out of breath. It was hard to imagine him ever being the same again.

"yes sir, sorry it took 45 minutes to get them going"

"3 points, that's all that counts, things are looking better slowly...which is more than I can say for me yes?"

I wasn't sure what to say. I looked over at Lucy but she was already eating the grapes we'd brought him. Luckily before I could think of anything to say he spoke again.

"The doctor tells me I am too angry...that I should not let things worry me so much. He is a fool. He does not run Villarreal Football Club. He is not under the same pressure as me. What could he know?"

I wanted to say that the pressures doctors are up against makes a job in football look like a day at the beach but annoying him today was not on the agenda.

"yes Mr Roig. I agree"

"now that Yanker, he has a lot to learn it would seem. He must work not play. You must work not play. My club is not a toy Mills. I will be out of action for a while, but don't think I'm not watching every move you make"

Amazing. He was looking pale and old with monitors stuck to his chest. And yet he was still making me feel scared. The guy just oozed authority.

"I will do my best Sir" I replied, not knowing what else to say.

Before I had to endure any more a nurse knocked on the door and came in.

"tiempo para tus banos de cama"
(time for your bed bath)

Roig gave me a knowing wink and a smile and shooed us away with his hand.

That was him all over. He would intimidate you but sometimes let you see his human side. That's why I wanted the team to suceed so much. because it made this guy happy.

I dropped Lucy back home and headed in to work where the players had the day off. The staff were all in though and we spent the rest of the day discussing Thursday's home tie with Galatasary in the UEFA Cup. A win would put us in a strong position in the group.

Just as I was leaving I was told that we had just recieved a fax from the hospital. Roig wanted to know our tactics for the game, a full analysis of the Zaragoza game, a detailed portfolio on new signing Damian Escudero and a copy of match reports from all the other La Liga games that weekend.

I called up Yanker's office.

Willie, you have a chance to feel good again. Roig want's a whole stack of paperwork and he wants it quick.

The guy sounded happy for the first time in days.

This is for you James, hope you like it

Being boring sucked.

Tuesday at the club was lifeless. When he was there, Roig's presence seemed to influence everything but without him people just sort of went about thier business wondering why no-one was shouting at them.

It also began to fall apart. I've never known so many staff phone in sick on the same day before. In fact Yanker looked like the only one working hard.

Messages of goodwill had flooded in from fans for Roig as well as public messages of support from Manuael Pellegrini and even Riquleme (I hope Roig didn't see it, I'm sure it would have set his heart off again).

I'd considered popping in to see him again this week but by the afternoon I'd been told I was to see him on Thursday morning. He was still in charge, no mistake!

The players seemed relaxed and confident after recent results. Ruben and I had the task of deciding who to pick for Thursday game and who to keep fresh for the Osasuna match at the weekend.

Wednesday and the number of empty parking spaces was growing. It seemed everyone had picked up some kind of mystery bug and decided a day at home in front of the TV was just what they needed.

I got an e-mail in the morning suggesting that all staff wait for police escorts out of the gound later today as Galatasary fans had already started to gather outside. No trouble so far, just a few wandering around the car park taking photos but they out-numbered the security staff by about 10 to 1 so I was kind of hoping the police were at least on thier way.

Lucy had called. She'd been chatting with Pablo and was alarmed to hear that he was not coming to the game on Thursday in case of trouble. She was oblivious to thier fans reputation and wanted to know what he meant.

"you're not going...phone in sick or something. I know something horrible is going to happen"

I tried to inform her that a manager phoning in sick was not a common occurrance (although why not? they must get sick) and that I was going to be there.

I sat at my desk for a while and wondered whether thier fans would be able to throw anything far enough to get me or not.

By the end of the day the number of thier fans had grown outside the main gates and police were clearly visible. TV pictures had already shown them burning a Villarreal flag.

I got to my car. I'd stupidly left the roof down. There in the driver's seat was a goats head. Lovely.

I waited for 2 police motorbikes to join me and followed them out the gates and passed the shouting mob.

I knew that this time tomorrow there would be a whole lot more of them but we were the home team. I was determined to make sure they spent 90 minutes being miserable tomorrow night. I was going to play my strongest team.

This is for you James, hope you like it

Burning flags always seems to stir things up.

After seeing it all over the news our fans had responded in turn but with no Galatasary flags available they took to burning Turkish flags instead. As you can imagine this created a hell of a storm and the national news showed King Juan Carlos taking advice as to how to calm down the Turkish government.

The good old fashioned trick of flooding a town with police was used and before long it wouldn't have been possible to drop a chocolate wrapper without 3 police pouncing on you. Calm restored.

I'd popped in to the hospital as instructed to see Roig but was told that he was not up to visitors as his condition had worsened slightly overnight.

I drove in to work and saw some of the signs of last nights trouble. A keebab house had it's windows boarded up, a car was burnt out and there were police everywhere.

Tensions grew as the day wore on and the press were starting to get thier story. A number of running battles between rival fans had already happened and almost every shop in town had shut up early.

The players looked a little restless and it was my job to get them determined. Nihat was very agitated. He'd been psyched up for this game for a long time but the sight of his home team fans burning his national flag had left him angry at just about everything. We considered resting him for this one but thought that might do more harm than good.

We got them together and wrote up the starting 11 on the board.

Lopez (GK)
Josemi (DR) Godin (DC) Fuentes (DC) Capdevila (DL)
Bruno (DM) Senna (DM)
Cani (AMR) Fernandez (AMC) Santi Cazorla (AML)
Nihat (ST)

A couple of dissapointed players but generally it went down ok. The plan was to get an early lead then counter attack. Retain possession and don't give thier fans any reason to celebrate.

As the kick off time apporached things outside the stadium had got worse. Valencia fans had begun to spring up in the area to fight with Galatasary supporters and the sound of sirens could be heard almost continualy.

It was hard to get the players foccussed back on the game when a constant string of rumours about events outside were going on. But as the minutes ticked away they seemed to be resolved to get the vital result we needed. There was nothing more I could do but sit and watch.

Turkish Delight - Umit Karan celebrates his second goal

Scoring at such a crucial time gave a huge psychological boost to the visitors and they came out in the second half to defend. The home fans did thier best to spur thier team on and attack but instead were treated to 45 minutes of neat possession football and no end product. Galatasaray hardly had to break a sweat in keeping the yellows at bay.

The players were very withdrawn after the game but no-one put thier hand up to say they had under performed. I was due to face the press in an hour to talk about the game.

The sheer number of police had prevented any serious trouble after the game (the Turkish fans were still being kept in the ground and the game had been over 45 minutes) so at least no further bad publicity I hoped.

Lucy called to make sure I had not been ripped apart by Galatasaray fans....to be honest I think I was in more danger from our own fans.

As the players made thier way home I sat down in the club bar area and did something stupid. I got drunk.

Our press officer was the one who found me. A glass of water in the face later and I'm being marched towards the press room where journalists were waiting. This was not going to be good.

This is for you James, hope you like it

I'd grown too reliant on Roig helping me out at these press conferences. He secretly liked answering all the questions and I publicly liked letting him. But he was hooked up to hospital radio and I was shapeless on Vodka.

I opened the door and made my way slowly to the chair as the first of the lenses clicked away. I tried to focus. A couple of the journalists were smiling, they knew they had something to work on here.

"okaaaay" I slurred.

"who's first?"

"Cual es su veredicto en el juego esta noche?"

"NEXT"

The guy stood up and repeated it again in English. He wasn't happy.

"What is your verdict on tonights game?"

"You were there...write what you saw"

The guy shook his head and scribbled something down.

"Porque era la segunda mitad tan mala?"

I let out an exaggerated sigh...English please?

They were all getting impatient with me.

"Why was the second half so poor?"

"Because they stopped us playing...they spolied it for everyone...they have no love for the boooooootiful game...."

I felt weird. The vodka was taking a dislike to the painkillers I was on and I felt completly hammered.

"usted ha estado bebiendo?"

"Have I been drinking? have I been drinking?"

I don't remember much about what happend after that but the next thing I recall is looking down on them. This either means that the whole lot decided to lay on the floor or I got up on the table.

It wasn't until Lucy had driven me home and sat me in front of the lap top that some of it hit home. The new lump on my head had been from me falling off the table. My stained trousers were from me wetting myself shortly after falling. The most viewed footage was of me stood on the table, shirt out, fly open, shouting "how many of you know you're alive? c'mon...let's be havin' ya" before losing my balance.

My wife threw me a blanket and pointed to the couch. If this didn't finish Roig off then he will probably kill me with his last breath tomorrow.

Before I could ponder my fate any more I passed out.

This is for you James, hope you like it

I woke up to the sound of the vacuum cleaner inches away from my head. This was Lucy's way of telling me she was mad at me and making my hangover worse was her personal mission.

I felt like roadkill. For little moments I felt like none of it had happened, but then it shot back into my brain like a bullet. I don't even know why I got drunk. There was no reason good enough other than us losing a game. I should be used to that.

She wasn't speaking to me so I got myself showered and dressed. It was my day off but the thought of spending the day at home didn't really float my boat so I went out for a walk in the morning rain.

I made it as far as the end of the road when my mobile rang. I'd been summoned in to work.

My car of course was still at work which left me the choice of going back home and asking Lucy for a lift or getting a taxi.

The cab dropped me off at the gates and I sneaked in through the reception doors and made it to my office where a copy of the morning paper was waiting for me. Well I wasn't on the front page...but when I turned it over, there I was, laying on the floor, glazed eyes and a stupid smile.

I didn't even have time to settle into my chair before reception buzzed my intercom. "They are ready for you - good luck"

Well at least Roig wasn't here. He was going to be bed bound for a week yet for sure so whoever was going to have a go at me can't be as bad as him.

The reception staff were giggling as I walked passed them. I entered the board room and saw 3 guys all sat in a row behind the long oak table. They looked like a right bundle of fun, all three of them looked like they would physically crack if they smiled. Perhaps Roig would have been better afterall.

"Please sit down Senor"

I felt pretty intimidated to say the least and my head was starting to pound. I looked around for some water but there wasn't any.

"First of all, do you have anything to say about last night?"

"Only that I am very sorry. It was my painkillers you see, they..."

They cut me short with a cough and shuffled some papers.

"This is a professional club Mr Mills. The media watch what happens here. What you do has consequences. This is not a game"

Well, at least it was all calm. Roig would be inches away from my face by now screaming abuse.

"we are aware this club has developed a drinking culture and we aim to stamp it out"

I felt this was a little unfair - "I wouldn't say it has developed a drinking culture, it was here before I was"

"Oh, so that makes it ok. Villarreal has always been a joke. Mr Mills, what happened last night was unacceptable. We want you to make a public apology on the clubs website. Take part in an anti-drinking promotion as well as accept a 2 month wages fine in respect to your actions"

Well, that could have been worse. Even so, Roig just tended to shout it all out then send you out the door.

"In addition to this we are suspending you from your duties for the next fixture. This will be reviewed depending on the result on Sunday. You are not to be seen at the game or the premesis during this time. That is all"

I'm not sure what I'd been expecting. I guess I'd got complacent with Roig. He was nasty but he let a lot of things go as long as we kept up the business on the pitch. These directors were doing things by the book.

I called up Lucy to tell her the news.

"good" she said before hanging up.

I collected one or two things from my desk and caught sight of the back page of the paper again.

"Nice one mate.....you stupid dumb-ass" I mumbled to myself as I closed the door behind me.

I spent the afternoon feeling sorry for myself at Pablo's bar.

Ruben had called to say how sorry he was to hear the news, but also to have a bit of a go at me for the whole thing too. He would be in charge for the Osasuna game on Sunday but we would pick the team together.

I turned my mobile off shortly after that. The press were after a reaction. The Bournemouth Echo had called to gloat. I had 3 texts from unknown sources that simply said 'Let's be Havin' you! LOL'

I'd really messed up this time. After putting up with so much from the players my own worst enemy turned out to be myself. Pablo stopped serving me after 3 drinks and sent me off to get some fresh air. I made my way home late afternoon where Lucy had calmed down and was in a more forgiving mood. Well, that was until the press appeared on the front lawn trying to get an interview. They didn't get me but they did get a bucket of water over them from my wife.

Saturday morning and I reluctantly turned my phone back on. Ruben had left me a message, as well as Mark, someone from the Spanish equivalent of 'Drink Awareness' and finally Roig.

I called them back one by one, with the exception of Roig. Ruben and I settled on the starting 11 for the game tomorrow night.

Lopez (GK)
Angel (DR) Fuentes (DC) Cygan (DC) Insua (DL)
Josica (DM) Senna (DM)
Cazorla (AMR) Pjanic (AMC) Fernandez (AML)
Rossi (ST)

Mark was talking to me about re-joining the hot-tub business as he was convinced I would be back in England within 7 days. He didn't let me get a word in so I just let him talk and talk.

Next was the drink awareness guys. The club had not wasted much time in trying to repair the damage I'd done to the club's image. I was due to help them out 3 mornings next week as they took thier sensible drinking message into local schools. I was to dress up as a giant Rabbit as part of thier stage presentation. Oh joy.

While I was contemplating calling Roig the club's press officer rang. He read out my apology for the website that he'd written on my behalf and asked if I wanted to change anything. It all seemed convincing enough.

I spent the rest of the day lounging around the house wondering how the players were training at the ground. I can't believe I wasn't even allowed to watch them train.

Sunday and matchday. My mood was even worse and Lucy had the good idea of us going out for the day to clear our heads. We headed up the coast and spent the day chilling out and talking about our plans. As kick off approached she could tell I was getting more and more aggitated. Did I hope the team lost so I'd be welcomed back? If they won, surely that was it for me.

Despite complaints, I checked the scoreline on my phone throughout our evening meal. I shouted 'YES!' when we went a goal up, but then it started to sink in that this was probably the end of the adventure for me. When we went 2 up I just went quiet. 3-0 and I turned off my phone and poured another drink.

"looks like we are going home babe" I said to Lucy, tapping my glass against hers.