Later that day the full effects of the day hit home, which is why, by 8pm I was at Pablo's, drunk and feeling sorry for myself.

The press had, not surprisingly gone mad over my (Roigs) Riquelme comment. I'd been a huge fan of the guy and when I'd allowed myself to daydream, would loved to have returned the fan's hero back to the club.

No chance of that now. He'd already hit back calling me things not even the papers were willing to print. Roig was un-repentent. His public rift with Riquleme had never really gone away but even he must have wanted it to be swept under the carpet once and for all now.

A group of fans had gathered at the car park as I'd left earlier, a couple of eggs at the car (1 near miss, 1 spot on) and I'm sure that wont be the last of it.

Ruben sat in front of me. We'd arranged to meet up and discuss Saturday's friendly with Leganes. Instead he sat there silently shaking his head as I sank another whiskey.

Mark had called Lucy to tell her he was leaving Spain that evening on a one way ticket. He made sure he didn't say where and she was obviously upset. We had no idea where this left us now, Almeria was due back Saturday afternoon and any chance of Mark coming clean about everything had been blown.

Friday afternoon (I spent the morning staring at dissolving painkillers in a glass) saw another training session. The players had not been happy about the Riquelme comment, especially those who had played along side him in the yellow shirt. Nevertheless they got on with the job in hand and seemed more ready than ever to play competetive football.

An early night, no word from Mark.

Saturday. I drove on down to the ground (6 near misses, 1 bad road rage - it was raining) only to find more fans waiting for me, stood in a sorry looking huddle in the rain.

I got out of the car and sprinted towards the front door but they still managed to hit a moving target. 20 minutes later I emerged from the toilet, egg still visible in my hair and on my suit.

The team bus drove off through the stromy conditions (this was supposed to be summer!) and arrived at the Butarque Ground, Leganes.

A handful of Villareal fans had made the trip and booed me as I made my way to the bench. But with no Almeria there over my shoulder, I felt like the real manager for once.

We were trying a new 4-2-3-1 formation in the hope that it might make for a more varied attacking game. By the final whistle the boos had turned to applause.

Saturday August 11th 2007
Butarque, Leganes
att 1205

As the rain eased up in the early evening several of the players drifted off to sleep, the faint noise of thier i-pods was all you could here.

I leaned back into my chair and wished this feeling could last more than just today when my phone went.

"Luce, hey, we won 4-0 babe, it was like a different tea...."

She cut me short - "Jon, have you seen the news?"

"Of course not, I'm on the bus"

"Almeria just got arrested on his way back into the country"

I kept the news of Almeria's arrest away from everyone but Ruben who looked delighted at first then a little concerned. The bus arrived back at the stadium mid evening and we all made our way home.

Lucy gave me the run down of the news article and I logged onto the web down at Pablo's to read the latest. It seems that Mark had done his duty just before boarding a plane out of Spain. A parcel of documents had landed onto the doorstep of El Pais Newspaper the following morning from an 'unknown sender' which showed almost every dodgy deal and bribe Almeria had set up.

Mark knew he would probably find himself being questioned about the whole thing when it was all investigated and decided not to stick around. Not to mention the fact that Almeria knew some pretty dangerous people who would happily carry out any revenge act that he requested.

2 things happened the next morning. The first was Lucy getting a call from her sister living in our Bournemouth home. She had returned from her night shift at the hospital to discover Mark asleep on the doorstep with his suitcase.

The next thing was turning on the TV to see a group of Villareal fans scrambling over the microphone being pushed towards them. I couldn't really work out what they were saying but I picked up the general idea. With Almeria out the way and disgraced - they wanted Pellegrini back at the helm.

I felt deflated. Everytime I begun to dream or things turned in my favour, something else bad came my way. Lucy, already showing the first signs of being homesick said that it was probably for the best - the fans and players loved him and it was better to leave now than get more attached to the dream of being manager.

I didn't want to agree but as I drove to the ground (1 near miss, 1 actual hit - an old lady, she got up, spat at the car and shuffled off) and parked up, I was feeling pretty fed up.

I strolled into the club cafe area and saw Rupen sipping his coffee and watching the TV up in the corner of the room. 'so I guess you've heard? Pellegrini is on his way back' I said.

"Yeah...looks like it" he replied pointing to the screen. The local news channel was on and showed Pellegrini, complete with gardening gloves and a rake, chasing a journalist and camera crew out of his garden. As he went back into his house the camera advanced back towards it only to be met by his ferocious wife and 2 dogs. This time they sprinted away but not before Mrs Pellegrini had sunk her teeth into the journalist's arm as the dogs looked on.

So, it was obvious that he was staying true to his word. A proud man, he may still love the club but obviously not as much as he loved his garden.

I felt a wave of relief sweep over me and punched the air with a 'yes!'.

Ruben however remained straight faced and again pointed to the screen. I couldn't understand what was being said but when the images of Martin Jol and then Graeme Souness were filmed getting into cars, I picked up on the reality of it.

Roig was not prepared to leave his club in my hands.

By Wednesday all the press were talking about was the weekend and the start of the new La Liga campaign. As per normal most of the focus was on Barcelona and Real Madrid.

Our next door neighbours Valencia were getting plenty of coverage too but Villareal were hardly mentioned. Athletico Madrid were facing thier first season without Fernando Torres and there was interest on how his replacement Diego Forlan would handle returning back to his old club so soon.

The players gathered together and we watched a dvd of a recent performance by them and also some footage of how Aguero likes to lose his marker, how Reyes looks for fouls and how Maxi Rodriguez darts into the box. The players looked a little nervous and they weren't alone. I'd been used to Bournemouth v Bury...here I was trying to move magnetic discs around a training board to show how to stop Sergio Aguero scoring.

But the players either hadn't noticed I was out of my depth, or just didn't care.

One of the coaches took over to discuss set pieces and I wandered over to the window that over looked the car park. I saw a small group of photographers gathered around an approaching black car. As the passenger got out I could see, even from this distance, that Martin Jol was pushing his way past them and going through the front door.

My heart sank, not for the first time. I may as well move all the magnetic discs to form the word 'adios' and walk out.

The team meeting went on for another 10 minutes and I wandered downstairs to grab a coke from the machine just in time to see a stern looking Martin Jol storm passed me.

He stopped in the car park briefly to say to the waiting press that he was flying back home to spend time with his family.

I don't think anyone ever found out what was said in the meeting with Mr Roig but I think a clash of personalities had taken place.

I went back up and told Ruben the news. It wasn't until later in the afternoon that he dragged me grinning towards the TV again, just in time to see live pictures of Graeme Souness being interviewed whilst being led away by Police after allegedly punching a passenger for stealing the window seat on the flight to Spain.

With just a matter of days to go before the start of the season the club were racing against time to find a manager they wanted.

Watching TV with Luce that evening my moblie rang. It was Ruben.

"they just offered me the job as manager" he said quietly.

"oh" I replied..."Ruben...that's great news, I'm so happy for you my friend - you deserve it" And I actually meant it. If it couldn't be me then there was no-one else I'd rather it go to.

"hey - if you ever need an assistant then you know where I am" I joked

"sorry, the job of assistant manager is already taken"

"oh - oh well, I was only joking"

"Jon, it's taken by me. I turned the job down - it's all yours. Now, let's get this club moving forward"

It was 15 minutes before my wife finally got me to stop dancing in front of the TV wearing the biggest grin in Spain.

The following morning Roig had called me into the office to explain the goings-on of the last 24 hours. Almeria was being detained and refused bail (he had enough global contacts to vanish easily) which left him in a bit of a panic. He said that he hoped I'd understood that a more experienced manager had been sought (it turns out that plenty were contacted but not many wanted to get involved with a club in crisis) and not to take it personally.

Pretty hard to do when you are sorting out tactics whilst someone else is being interviewed for your job downstairs.

It turns out Souness was not the sort of low-profile boss the club was looking for at the moment and Ruben had been the last possible choice.

After no-one else wanted it, he gave in and let me 'keep my job'. I'm not sure if I was meant to feel grateful or not but at least he had tried to explain things to me and he shook my hand as I left with more friendlieness than he'd shown to date. I still didn't trust him though.

Training almost went without a hitch - Cazorla went in with the elbow on Francisco Duran. No one said it but it was obviously some pay-back for the hotel fight. Apart from that the coaches reported back that the team were in good shape both physically and mentally.

I flicked through a preview of the coming season and read our prediction...

Roig had done a little more business and secured Gai Assulin from Barcelona on a season long loan and informed me that despite his age he could be very special indeed. Jozy Altadore was joining up with his new teamates at the start of 2008 due to his age.

Saturday came and the players only had light training. We all gathered together in the evening to watch the Barcelona game live on TV, even Lucy was with us - despite talking more and more about wanting to take a trip back home.
.................................................. ..................................................

Saturday 25th August 2007

Getafe 4 -2 Sevilla
Barcelona 3-1 Mallorca

They played pretty well considering - Messi was out for 7 months with a knee injury and new signings didn't look that settled yet.

We all moved on home after the final whistle knowing that tomorrow was our turn and my first experience of match day at Villareal.

I think I slept about 2 hours.

Nerves got me up earlier than I'd hoped and the smell forced us both out into the fresh air for a morning walk.

We talked about missing England and how hard it was to just leave everything behind. Her English teaching was doing ok but it was the little things about England that we were both missing. She had actually been coping better than me - I was still trying to get my head around Euro notes and coins and my driving on the other side of the road was not getting any better. We both agreed that it would get easier but also that on Tuesday she would fly home for a week and see her sister and brother.

We drove to the ground around 11am, My stomach was in knots...expectations may have been low but you still believe that just maybe it can happen for you.

By early afternoon the streets were already filling up with home supporters, sending my nerves off the chart.

One by one the players arrived in thier sports cars. Our Smart Car looked ridiculous next to them and we knew that we had to sort that situation out.

I showed Lucy up to the executive box that I was allowed for friends and family. I had not even thought about inviting friends over to watch the games - I guess until now I'd never felt like the manager.

I'd never seen the boxes before - the views were good but the facilities were hardly world class.

The tension grew as outside the crowds drew nearer the stadium and the chanting could be heard through the walls. Ruben and I had picked the team the night before and gathered them all together to let them know.

"ok - Lopez -goalkeeper, defenders - Josemi - you will play right back, Capdevilla left back...Cygan and Godin centre"

No complaints so far although I could see Insua was a little dissapointed.

"Midfield - Senna to play in front of the defence, Cazorla to play just in front of Senna...ok?" they nodded...Francisco Duran looked at the floor.

"then we have Mati on the left, Robert, you will play on the right - Nihat - you will play in the middle...Guiseppe...striker".

I put down the clipboard and let Ruben go over the last of the tactical plans.

20 minutes before kick off the players went out onto the pitch to warm up. When they returned they were all buzzing. Lopez Ufarte had gone out to drill them on warm up exercises and reported back that a huge banner asking for Pellegrini to come back had been unfurled behind one of the goals.

Then it was time. I saw the Athletico line up, they were playing very deep which gave us hope - 2 midfielders were right in front of the back 4 but Forlan and Aguero were both up front.

The players went out onto the pitch and 3 minutes later I followed. Maybe there were boos but they were drowned out by an explosion of noise from all sides of the ground. One end was completly obscured by smoke from a flare....

Senna went to the centre circle to choose head or tails...my stomach was flipping like that coin as it went through the air.

I looked over at Ruben who was clutching his Virgin Mary tightly in his hand...another firecracker went off behind the bench making me jump.

There was nothing more I could do but sit and watch. We had won the toss and were kicking off...

(man of the match - Miralem Pjanic)
.................................................. ..................................................

Almeira 0 Valencia 3
Betis 0 Valladolid 0
Deportivo 2 Murcia 0
Levante 0 Espanyol 0
Osasuna 0 Athletic 0
R Madrid 4 Recreativo 1
Zaragoza 2 Racing 1

Not surprisingly I was on cloud 9. We'd been lucky to win, no doubt about it, but it showed me what this team is actually capable of. In all honesty, I think the players were as surprised as me.

In the changing room after the game I swear we could hear Javier Aguirre screaming at his players. My lot were all smiles, calling various people on thier mobiles. Pjanic was re-enacting his goal with anyone willing to listen. Personally the keeper should have stopped it but no-one was going to spoil the kids moment. But I noticed that the players were still in thier own self chosen groups, the French guys, the Spanish guys, the South Americans...they had shown they could work together on the pitch, I just needed to get them bonding off it.

Lucy rushed to greet me after the game. She had learned to love football ever since I gave her little choice (our romantic honeymoon happened to co-incide with a copa-america tournament) and she'd been going through all the emotions up there in the scruffy executive box.

We drove home (Ruben was to do the press conference on my behalf) and I found Sky Sports News on the cable TV, eager to see if we had made the English news. As I was waiting a text came through from Mark congratulating me on the win and to say that I should check my e-mails.

A brief review of the days action was on, Real Madrid's goals first, then David Villa's stunning hattrick for Valencia (trust them to overshadow our win) and then there we were. It's always weird seeing a game on tv that you were at earlier. Shot from a different angle than you saw it, it barely felt like the same game. They showed the Pellegrini banner and me walking towards the bench (I must admit I felt kinda proud) then the highlights. Rossi's miss was a shocker...Forlan's goal perhaps should have stood - then in slow motion Pjanic's goal. I'd not given the guy enough credit, it was a great strike. Soon enough they were onto the next game.

I drove to the ground the following morning (no near misses, no road rage) and pulled into the car park. Someone had parked thier car in my space, forcing me to park in the visitors section. I made my way to my office and for the first time I was greeted with smiles from the staff - it was "morning Senor Mills" from everyone.

Someone had obviously been in my office because there were a set of car keys left on my desk. I'm not sure how much they pay the cleaners but they drove a mercedes.

I booted up my PC and took Mark's advice and checked my e-mails. I had 115 un-read e-mails. They were in Spanish, that's why I'd left them, but one caught my eye. Mark had sent one on Friday telling me that Lucy and I had full use of his home in Spain. As far as he was concerned it was mine. I'd seen the place a couple of times but he'd attached a picture to remind me

I have no idea what dodgy deals had paid for that place and it was that which stopped me feeling happy about it. I was about to call Lucy and tell her when Mr Roig came into my office.

He shook my hand warmly.

"Jon - what can I say- a superb win- many more I hope"

"well, one game at a time" I said, trying to play down the win.

"anyhow...how about your car Jon? you like?"

He beckoned me over to the window and admired it parked down in my space.

The guy obviously hadn't seen my driving over here.

"Tomorrow you and I are off to Seville. UEFA Cup v Zurich...we need to see how we are going to beat them next eh?" he laughed loudly, slapping me on the back as he left my office.

One win and suddenly we were meant to beat everyone.

I'm not sure I was ready for this after all.