Chapter 117: That Familiar Nightmare

The national broadcaster had two Premier League matches on its main channel that weekend, and neither of them was Villa’s. Arsenal against Liverpool took the big slot, and a second game of the broadcaster’s choosing kicked off at exactly the same time as Villa against Derby. That meant supporters who couldn’t make it to the ground would only be able to follow the match on a paid streaming service.

The broadcaster’s phone lines were almost blown off the wall. Saint had lost his opening game, but even so, the country wanted to see Villa again.

The reason was simple enough. Villa’s manager was Saint Maddox, the most talked-about young man in English football, and everyone wanted to see whether he could bounce back.

The network’s head of sport was thoroughly fed up by the whole business. His defence, repeated to anyone who rang, was that they had only been trying to protect Saint. If Villa lost a second match in a row, did anybody really want to watch it live on prime time?

Saint, of course, knew nothing about the fuss on the other end of the phone. He was busy with the final preparations.

"Derby weren’t our equals when we were both in the Championship. Now that they’re in the Premier League, they’re even less our equals." Saint spoke with total confidence, and that confidence spread through the dressing room like a warm draught, reaching every player.

"Go out there and play your game. Tell Derby, and tell the whole of the Premier League, that Villa have arrived."

On the streaming service, Gary Pemberton opened the commentary. "Compared with the United game, Villa’s starting eleven has changed a great deal. Vacek was perfect last time, so there is no change in goal. At the back, Teale starts, partnering Aldo Rami, Faraday continues at left-back, and on the right the Brazilian Bruno Alencar takes over from Colley."

"In midfield, Reyes also makes his first start, alongside Conlan. Rocher and Lavelle stay on the flanks, and Saint is clearly being careful with Jurek after his international duty," said Alan Judd.

"And up front, Danny Pryce gets his first start, with Jake Tomlin beside him." If Vacek had won everyone’s approval in the last game, Tomlin still had work to do.

You could not blame Tomlin for the defeat to United, and he had been a threat after Saint made his three changes. But a striker without a goal has nothing to show for it. That was his job in this match, to get the first goal. As Villa’s headline signing of the summer, Tomlin had to prove his worth.

The tactics had been drawn up with that in mind, and barely a minute after kick-off Tomlin had his first chance.

Rocher broke down the left and cut the ball back, and Tomlin, rising in the box, tried to beat the Derby defenders with a header. The header was too perfect, unfortunately, because it was placed straight into the hands of the Derby keeper, Dale Pickering.

Derby had signed Pickering over the summer and borrowed another young goalkeeper from a Championship club, a lad being sold as the next great English number one, though he was only four years younger than the man he was supposedly replacing.

Derby came straight back. Rossiter was a traditional manager who believed firmly that defence came first, but against Villa he had made a few changes and set his side out to attack.

Pickering launched a long ball and it fell at the feet of Matt Ledgard, who laid it off to Joe Gilmore.

Gilmore was Derby’s creative organiser. Unfortunately, the forward line in front of him was limited, and unless Rossiter made changes, Derby were destined for a difficult season.

Conlan responded fast. Since being named captain he had trained harder than ever, and his strength numbers had risen noticeably as a result. If he kept it up, the day might not be far off when he reached A level.

If that happened it would help Villa enormously, and it would transform Conlan’s own career too.

With Conlan on top of him, Gilmore could only play the ball out to the left, towards Tommy Tonks, the full-back who was Derby’s main attacking outlet.

"Intercepted! Alencar! The Brazilian read it perfectly, he saw the pass all the way." The moment Gilmore played it, Alencar burst out and cut it off right in front of Tonks.

"Villa counter! Alencar, and he gives it to Reyes!" Alencar wasn’t greedy. He wasn’t the best right-back in the world yet, and what mattered now was following the manager’s instructions and establishing himself at Villa.

"A direct ball, Reyes plays it through, a chance for Villa." The pass sliced through the Derby players and found the tallest man on the pitch.

"Tomlin! The big striker has it under control, one on one. If he gets past Stovell, there’s only the goalkeeper left."

"He’s past him! Tomlin has beaten Stovell!" Though he was a traditional centre-forward, Tomlin had a pair of feet unlike most of them, balanced on either side and technically very good.

"GOAL! Less than three minutes gone, and Villa have scored! Tomlin! This is Villa’s first goal of the season from a striker, and he finishes it off with a smash. What a player, strong in the air and clever underfoot."

"Three newcomers, all three combining there. Alencar’s interception, Reyes’s long straight pass, and Tomlin completes the killer blow."

"This is the Villa we know, no, this is the Villa we know made better. Compared with the Championship, this is a team that attacks with more purpose and more efficiency."

Nobody in the stands cared about that debate. The Villa fans had gone wild, and they gave every ounce of their noise to the man who had scored.

Tomlin was already doing his trademark celebration, cupping his right hand to his ear and turning it round and round.

"Did you hear me? Did you see what I can do?" That was what he meant, and now Villa’s supporters answered with cheers and applause.

We saw it.

The cameras, of course, went straight to the dugout.

"Oh, the Villa manager looks delighted." It was natural, considering this was the first win of his Premier League career within touching distance.

Saint had leapt out of the technical area with both fists clenched, and Cadman, beside him, was laughing like a schoolboy. Behind them, Jurek and Lindley were on their feet on the bench, shouting at nobody in particular. A minute earlier the whole stadium had been holding its breath, and now it was a wall of noise.

Saint pulled himself together almost at once and turned his back on the celebrations. Three minutes was nothing. Against a side like Derby, it was the next ten that mattered, and he wanted his players thinking about that, not about the goal.

On the other touchline, Rossiter looked uneasy. Tomlin’s goal had brought back some bad memories.

In the last match between the two clubs, Villa had opened the scoring early and then kept on scoring, and not just once.

It wasn’t only Rossiter who remembered that match. The players who had played in it and the Derby fans in the away end could all recall exactly how it had ended.