Part six IS HERE.

THE FIRST DAY OF A BRAND NEW YEAR is all about brand new starts. About leaving the mistakes of the past behind, about shedding off the baggage of the previous years, about looking out from the precipice toward the 12 months ahead.

For some of us it’s also about waking up with an amalgamated taste in the mouth of approximately 1,000 tab-ends and 8 litres of lager, and about hitherto blacked-out snippets of events of the previous nights’ revellry recalling themselves to memory, as unwelcomed as a stiletto heel at a testicle party.

There was to be no such nonsense for the professional ranks of the Rovers playing squad however. Marked on the calendar for all of a Rovers persuasion for January 1 2007 was a home fixture against Huddersfield, the first match in the Keepmoat Stadium, the first Rovers home league game with a five-figure gate since the Zodiac Killer decided to start joshing around with the residents of Northern California to idle away a bit of spare time and petrol. All in all, pretty landmark stuff.

As starts to a New Year go, chumping Huddersfield by three goals to nil, in a brand new stadium, in front of a 14,500 gate has to rank somewhere in between the 1995 discovery of Fred West hung in his prison cell and the 1958 birth of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.

More than likely it’s well above the first ever mobile telephone call being made in Great Britain, between (of all people) Ernie Wise, and some business squire from Vodafone on 1 January 1985 - a 5 minute conflab that featured more crackling than a Jamaican 7.

Mark McCammon, Paul Heffernan and Jonathan Forte brought the Terriers to heel and upon the full-time whistle that day there appeared to be endless possibilities mapping themselves out in front of the fans. Fresh and opulent surroundings, massive crowds, an unsure start under Sean O’Driscoll transformed by a surging recent run of form, a Chairman on board at the club not afraid to put his money where his mouth is? Yes-fuckin-please.

Putting aside a regrettable 4-0 home defeat in the 3rd round of the FA Cup to Bolton Wanderers Reserves (you couldn’t help but think this would never have happened in front of a close-to-the-pitch and hostile full house at Belle Vue - would it, Aston Villa?), Rovers continued at full-tilt pace in competitions which we actually had a chance of achieving something in.

Dave Penney made his first visit to the Keepmoat with his new charges, Darlington, in the Northern Area Semi-Final of the Football League Trophy. While Rovers summarily cruised through to the Northern final inside of 90 minutes, the most important event of the evening was the three sides of the ground containing Rovers fans rising as one to champion our former leader with a loud, sustained and thoroughly deserved crescendo of “One Dave Penney” - comprehensively drowning out my own attempts of

Is ‘ere! Is there! Is every-fuckin-where! Dave Penney, Dave Penney!

Anyway - back to League One, and goals from Jason Price and Brian Stock gave Rovers a 2-0 win at Gillingham as the play-off charge began to gather some serious momentum. League leaders and all-round risible twats Scunthorpe United were next up at the Keepmoat replete with their “Big-Day-Out ballons” and acquired a first-half 2-0 lead, mainly on account of the first in what would become a series of atrocious displays of long range shot-stoppery by Ben “Doctor couldn’t explain it but I just stopped growing at 12 years old” Smith.

First Graeme Lee and then Jason Price hauled Rovers back into the match in the second half with two goals in as many minutes, which had most of the crowd of over 12,000 almost ready to explode. Had Jon Forte’s shot flew into the net instead of crashing against the crossbar shortly thereafter in all likelihood the roof would have come off the Keepmoat in a similar fashion to the roof of the by-now-abandoned Rovers Return bar next to our old stomping ground at Belle Vue - blowing into some unsuspecting Fiat Punto on Bawtry Road, probably.

It ended up two apiece, but what an awesome game. Fucking fantasic, even.

Better was to follow as our old chums from Rotherham were permitted collective day release to travel to the Keepmoat, having shed their two best players to Watford a week or so earlier for a total consideration of a million quid - any chance of ponying up to some of the debtors you ripped off, lads? One beating with a shitty stick later and they were off back down the M18 to their candle-lit hovels, left to ponder their impending and richly deserved relegation into the basement division.

Last but not least in a busy January, and immediately preceding the utterance of number 10 in “World’s most unlikely comments about football and that …” came the feast of goals that was the Norther Area Final 1st Leg of the FLT, away at Crewe. Oooh - we’re so close to the Millenium Stadium ! Read about the game (and the unlikely comment !) HERE.

Part five IS HERE.

FOR AS FAR BACK AS I CAN REMEMBER regularly tipping up at the football on a Saturday afternoon, Belle Vue has been a comfortable enclave, as familiar as a well-worn (and well-chewed, slightly smelly) old slipper. A second home where I’ve seen a free-scoring, free-wheeling and sometimes indeed drug-dealing array of players of various endearing limitations chuffing up and down the length of the hallowed turf of Belle Vue.

Think of Belle Vue and you think of crumbling terraces, you think of the smell of fried onions on hot dogs of ill-repute, the rickety intimacy of the wooden Main Stand. You think of avuncular old Ken Avis, so many years the voice of Saturday afternoons over the tannoy, of the unforgiving, puddle-ridden terrain of the Rovers car park.

Personal to me, I remember Darren Moore single-handedly keeping the team in the Football League the season prior to our eventual demise into the Conference. I remember being awe-struck with excitement over the massive crowd of 6,626 for what turned out to be a 1-4 home reverse in the FA Cup against Huddersfield - the biggest Rovers crowd I’d been amongst by far at the time. I remember the excitement as people milled around outside on the car park hours before the Conference play-off final at Stoke, a game that turned out to be the beginning of the redemption of this football club.

So many memories from just 12 (largely unsuccessful, in relative terms) regular seasons of attending games. As it turned out, both the first and the last games I saw at Belle Vue were victories by a single goal to nil and I suppose that there’s a certain symmetrical completeness to be taken from that. Nottingham Forest were the final visitors to Belle Vue on December 23 2006, a fixture on paper providing a fitting backdrop to the main event of farewell to the old stadium from a cast of thousands of regular punters and occassional well-wishers.

The build-up to the final match could not have gone much better. Successive away wins at Brentford (4-0) and Northampton (2-0) were followed by progress to the 3rd Round of the FA Cup after a 2-0 defeat of Mansfield, ensuring a bouyant and positive atmosphere prevailed in what had suddenly turned, after a turgid couple of months under O’Driscoll’s tenure, into a vague threat of actual play-off assault.

The right result, the only result that there could be, ensued on the day, and I will always be grateful for that. That the winning goal, from Rovers’ on loan defender Theo Streete, was as bizarre and comical a strike as you could hope to see (Theo, mooning up just past the half way line on the right hand touchline in front of the Pop, attempting to sling a diagonal ball into the box, yet slicing across the ball horrendously. The ball suddenly arcing towards goal - Forest goalkeeper re-positioning himself to field an unexpected catch makes a complete twatbasket of it, and the ball skids off him and into the net, framed by a thousand Forest fans swinging their fists at the rank absurdity of what just unfolded) was a fitting finale for the Old Girl, who had seen it all spanning the two decades of it’s life. Sublime to ridiculous. I’d like to think the Gods of Rovers past were shining down on us that day.

For all the need to progress facilities to match ambitions, for all the desire to more and more punters in bigger and better stadiums, as the rank and file left Belle Vue for the last time that evening in December, we surely all left a little bit of Doncaster Rovers behind, on those terraces upon which we stood shoulder to shoulder in solidarity with our brethren. Left behind acquaintences whom we might never see again, with whom we’d shared a joke, or crossed word, and certainly left behind a bygone experience of what watching football used to be.

The lure of opulent new surroundings and 15,000 crowds all too quickly drew us towards gazing ahead to 2007. A new start, in a new ground, under a new manager. Time waits for no man, eh?

Part four IS HERE.

AFTER THE DISASTER THAT WAS SEPTEMBER, October started on another low as a 1-1 draw at home to Oldham dropped Rovers into the relegation zone. Having not really acquired a taste for scuttling around in the basement portion of any given League since John Ryan bought the club for a princley sum of £1, thankfully, we were soon out of there.

Fans heralded a first win in eight matches, at Cheltenham by two goals to nil, and the team followed this up with an insipid display but nontheless valuable further three points via a 1-0 home triumph over Chesterfield. In between, we moved into the next round of the JPT via a 2-1 victory at Huddersfield, before rounding off the end of the month by losing to Bristol City, and exiting the League Cup via penalties at a Wycombe Wanderers side who would go on to progress all the way to the semi-finals of the competition. Impressions among most and sundry were that a rather mediocre season was on the horizon.

Meanwhile, up the A1 Dave Penney was appointed as manager of Darlington - surprising many Rovers fans whom had presumed he would move on at least to a club at the same level as Rovers, if not to a Championship side.

November came and went with similar bland fayre on offer. Quiet progress in the JPT was secured via a win at Hartlepool, however fans’ ire was raised by a diabolical draw at home to relegation threatened Leyton Orient, pushing Scunthorpe away for the worst footballing performance in the world … ever. Principally, we were narrow in formation, with little clue how to unlock a defence, and seemed happy to make substitutions with the basis of not losing a match rather than going out to win it.

Things came to a head away at Mansfield in the FA Cup when, with Rovers trailing 1-0 and looking thoroughly uninspired, a section of the large away support began to chant “Fuck off back to Bournemouth” towards the Rovers dug-out.

Still, Brian Stock equalised deep into stoppage time, prompting a change in tack from said Rovers followers who now bellowed “Rovers Til I Die” at the top of their raspy voices. Ah, the fickleness of football eh?

We also gave Accrington Stanley the absolute worst 2-0 beating of their lives (probably), to ascend regally into the Northern S/F of the Johnstone Paints Trophy, which, having started out as a bit of a joke, had now assumed the role of “a very serious competition indeed, ta very much”.

Ironically enough, that S/F draw would pit us against Dave Penney’s new charges, Darlington, in one of the first games at our palacial new Keepmoat Stadium. And there was still the grand farewell to Belle Vue to come, as we committed her to the ashes of a bygone era.

Part three IS HERE.

WHEN THE ROVERS SUPPORTERS were drawing up a dream or wish-list of managerial candidates to take the reins of the by now struggling pack mule-esque Doncaster Rovers, it would be hard to believe that Sean O’Driscoll of AFC Bournemouth appeared anywhere within anyone’s top one hundred. Ever.

However, while fans across the town and beyond were pondering the relative merits of appointing Kevin Keegan - “ah, but there’d be plenty of goals y’see” - if you believe John Ryan, he already had his number one target lined up in the cross-hairs, and pretty much had done since his side inflicted Dave Penney’s most humbling experience as a Football League manager a little under two years previous.

Sean O’Driscoll oversaw that 5-0 drubbing apportioned to Rovers in September 2004 where Dave Penney infamously strung four central defenders across the backline against one of the smaller sides in the Division and watched on for the first 20 minutes as his team were predictably and repeatedly torn to shreds down the flanks, copping for 3 of the 5 goals in the process.

Evidently John Ryan had remembered this very public exposure of our then managers tactical acumen, the approach was made to Bournemouth, where O’Driscoll still plied his trade, the offer accepted and compensation agreed. On September 11 2006 O’Driscoll was officially confirmed at a press conference as the new manager of Doncaster Rovers Football Club.

Sean wasted little time in getting his feet under the table. His assistant manager at Bournemouth - Richard O’Kelly - moved up North with him, and ex-Bournemouth midfielder Brian Stock was signed on loan from Preston North End.

The first few matches under the new broom did little to dispel the general air of deflation surrounding the Rovers support, who had been led on to believe that John Ryan had serious ambitions to lure Kevin Keegan to the club, when in fact O’Driscoll was the de-facto target from the start. Drab goal-less draws at Huddersfield and Rotherham were followed by, er, a drab goal-less draw at home to Blackpool. Stirring stuff.

About the most exciting thing to happen was some Rotherham supporting amoeba contributing a baseless attack on Doncaster Rovers supporters via the medium of their matchday programme. Thoroughly shameful - Donblog irrefutably rejects all types of sweeping generalisations against any body of supporters, anywhere. Particularly those made by mumble-mouth Miller muthafuckers.

Interest was briefly piqued by a 3-3 home draw against Bradford City, whereby Rovers came back from two Dean “Conniving fuck” Windass goals to lead 3-2, only for said cheat Windass to “earn” Graeme Lee a red card and Bradford a goal from the resulting free kick. Bradford manager Colin Todd had a bit of a cry over the jovial jockeying administered by the incumbents of the Main Stand, and people were starting to notice that we still weren’t actually winning any games.

Still, we weren’t losing either. And Scunthorpe were next, and of course, we *always* beat Scunthorpe. Donblog, not one for exaggerated hyperbole, can quite literally say without fear of contradiction that Scunthorpe away was the worst performance by a collection of eleven individual men in the history of organised football. A 2-0 defeat was compounded by an indifferent reply from Sean O’Driscoll when questioned whether the fans were right to expect more from the team in one of the most important derby games of the season.

Wholly inappropriate responses to questions can actually be quite funny and endearing. “Aye. Fuck off Norway.” was Paul Gascoigne’s legendary offering when asked if he had a message for his fans in the Scandanavian outpost. We all laughed.

Ian Wright once famously roared “But if I do have to appear at the FA, I’ll have my say about David Pleat. He’s a pervert.”

However, O’Driscoll’s “Dunno. You’re from here, you tell me.” was full-stop just a twattish reply, wasn’t it?

September ended, and our new manager had basically re-written the book on making the worst possible impression on your new employers and their supporters. Luckily, there wasn’t much further for us to fall after this - Baz Richardson’s disgusting sock fetish - he gleefully referred to it as “cock-socks” remained thankfully out of the limelight - though Graeme Lee had a bit of a surprise following his arrival in the dressing room for his Dean Windass-induced early bath.

Part two IS HERE.

BETWEEN THE WHY’S AND HOW’S of Dave Penney’s departure and the who’s and when’s of his much-speculated replacement, the small matter of Rovers being powdered and preened and cossetted for their appearance under the harsh television lights of Sky Sports, was at hand as we rolled on into September.

Port Vale, the unofficial Hollywood of the Potteries was the scene. I saw Mickey Walker in a suit ! I forget if he looked like he was going to a funeral or a wedding - however, thrust as he was into the media glare by taking on the caretaker-manager role in Penney’s absence, I suppose he thought he’d better make the effort.

The match. Comedy provided by Michele di Piedi. The villian in the guise of penalty-squandering Lewis Guy. The hope seemingly lost, followed by the unlikely comeback from the dead. The dashing hero in Paul Heffernan. Fayre fit for any epic blockbuster as Heffs fired in two late late goals to give us a much needed 2-1 win and Mickey Walker a winning start.

Some people even thought “y’know, t’old Mickey might be able to make a go of this management lark” as the credits rolled, a sentiment that lasted precisely six days, long enough for us to suffer a frankly comtemptible 2-1 home reverse to a mid-tempo Gillingham side. Once again a needlessly conceded penalty from Steve Roberts was the precurser to the current incumbent of the managers seat at Rovers losing their job. Is this the reason why he has subsequently been unavailable for vast tracts of the season?

“Nearing full fitness eh Steve? Here, drink some of this uh, *milk* …”

I think I’m onto something there.

Part one IS HERE.

AND SO THOSE EXCITING TIMES would come to pass, but not for the actually-painfully-limited-Italian-striker type reasons that we expected. Because, frankly, di Piedi was as shite as everyone knew full well that he would be. The fans knew it, John Ryan knew it, you suspect Dave Penney knew it, and in all likelihood Michele di Piedi knew it as well. By the time he actually made his first start in Rovers colours, at Port Vale, he was so far out of his depth that he had in fact already drowned, only no-one had told his pathetically flailing limbs yet.

di Piedi’s gross ineptitude was in fact the least of the worries for Dave Penney. Apparently desperate to prove he was not stuck in the rut of being a predictable 4-4-2 man (particularly in view of the fact we had seen fit to not sign any proper left wingers since Michael McIndoe had parted ways with the Club), his Rovers side approached the next match, away to Swansea, with three starting centre-backs, supposedly allowing the “wingbacks” to bomb up and down and support the forward players. The actual result was a display of attacking alacracy akin to that of a recently exhumed corpse, and we were deservedly beaten by two late Lee Trundle goals. Bollocks.

By now, alarm bells were ringing around Belle Vue, and reasonably so. John Ryan was talking up what was by now a £3million wage bill, the inference of which was clear - things need to improve. The team apparently only knew how to play 4-4-2, but the only guy who can play there, Jon Forte, had already told the Manager that he doesn’t like playing there, and prefered the centre-forward position. Modern day footballers eh?

Rovers jinked unconvincingly past perennial basement dwellers Rochdale at Belle Vue that midweek by 3 goals to 2 to lift some of the gloom around the club, and then hosted Sean O’Driscoll’s AFC Bournemouth. A Lewis Guy opener was cancelled out by a James Hayter penalty in stoppage time at the end of the game, conceded inexplicably by Steve Roberts who leapt with arms above head to punch the ball away from danger. The draw had pretty much felt like a defeat to most of the poor gate of just over 5,000 in attendance. The Manager came out and said as much himself, though the vows to “cut out the personal mistakes” were now coming across as tired and forced.

John Ryan did what most chairmen do, when attendances are dwindling, when there is supporter unrest, when the team are underperforming badly, and Rovers supporters woke to the news on 30 August 2006, that Dave Penney had been relieved of his managerial duties at the club with immediate effect, after an unbroken seven year spell with the club.

Whether the right decision was made that day, whether Dave Penney could have adapted, rebuilt and prospered at the club or not, will remain forever unanswered. What was for sure, was that transfer deadline day was looming, the squad suddenly looked woefully underpowered, and we were a rudderless ship drifting towards the relegation zone. Summertime thoughts of promotion looked a million miles away now.

SO DONBLOG EMBARKS ON THE FIRST in an occassional series of reviews of the 2006/07 season - possibly the most unstable season of recent years. A move from our home of 80 years, the club record transfer fee broken twice, the most successful manager in recent years sacked, our first major cup final. Loads more besides!

It certainly made for a bit of a change from some of our previous seasons over the last decade or so which comprised of major landmarks such as Dean Williams getting a beef and onion pie in the mush during a match, and James Meara scoring an improbably spectacular goal before a disinterested gate of two and a half thousand against Torquay United.

Pre-season for 06/07 saw Rovers snare their targets early. James O’Connor was tricked into Belle Vue for a transfer record fee of £130,000. Bruce Dyer came in from Sheffield United, and Kevin Horlock from Ipswich on permanent deals. We signed some others as well, whose names escape me. Er, Lockwood for a start. We generally fared well in pre-season friendlies, including a 2-0 win over Middlesbrough punctuated by the comedy defensive stylings of Emanuel Pogatetz, and a 1-0 repellation of Real Sociedad - thus, parity was restored for the Anglo-Spanish war 1585 and Rovers could look to getting a positive start for promotion at Carlisle.

Not only did Rovers not read the script, they proceded to show up drunk and unshaven (figuratively speaking of course) and blunder off some alternate, useless script from the top of their heads in a pathetic attempt to please the assembled throngs. 1-0 down with the first goal in League football for that season, followed by a huff and puff performance of never looking particularly likely to get back into things left us all feeling distinctly unamused with matters, thank you very much.

Still, plenty of teams get promoted on the back of an opening day defeat eh? Probably. It only took ’til Tuesday for us to be back up and motoring after coming from behind to beat Crewe. It wouldn’t be that last time we would be seeing that particular scenario. Kevin Horlock and Bruce Dyer were amongst the goalscorers in a 3-1 victory, thereby demonstrating that they were both going to be major players for the season ahead … what?

The match following this, against Tranmere at Belle Vue, much like a traumatic childhood memory, has been supressed into a void of blankness and silence, due to the abject tedium it entailed I suppose. We drew 0-0, it must have been a diabolical game, as I usually remember *some* incident or other no matter how turgid the 90 minutes was. Not this one. If anyone does remember *anything* about it, post a comment below. I bet you don’t.

The will he/won’t he debacle over Ricky Ravenhill’s proposed transfer to Chester City finally meandered towards it’s conclusion, some seventeen years after the tenative first offer was faxed across the Welsh border and into the Belle Vue offices. Rovers buried this bad news and that of an injury to Kevin Horlock (only a couple of weeks they said) with a blockbusting announcement:

Italian striker and well known lothario Michele di Piedi had signed on a 6 month contract! The official website eulogized a bit too long and a bit too hard on the signing, largely based on some mildly decent goal he popped home for Sheffield Wednesday in 1994 or something, but we knew for sure with this capture that exciting times were ahead!

PART ONE OF an intermittent series follows over the next days, which shall chronicle the trials and tribulations of Doncaster Rovers 2006/07 footballing adventure, broken down into easily digestible, monthly chunks.

Or, as is more likely the case, vast tracts of bloated tedium from the season will be largely washed over in two or three sarcastically composed sentences.

Did Rovers get off to a flier in their inaugural game of the campaign at Carlisle, did Dave Penney lead us to promotion? Did the new stadium materialise, did Dave Parker disappear in a puff of self-important wind? Trevor Milton still hanging about is he?

Of course, most of you reading this know the answers to all of these questions already, but it’s fun to remember isn’t it? And even if it’s not fun per-se, it’s still *more* fun than refreshing the Viking forum every 10 minutes in the vain hope of a waft of news being blown our way.

I think.

ALL A BIT QUIET REALLY, INNIT? Donblog continues to doze idly in the relative sunshine of April with occassional streams of conciousness being uploaded. The Rovers forums are showing levels of activity more readily associated with a sack of dead kittens, happened upon along the banks of the River Don by a horror-stricken child . Even the ever diligent official Rovers website, in the absence of anything interesting going on, is being forced into publishing a series of irrelevant competitions and sales propaganda … oh, wait.

Speaking of which, kudos to whoever decided to run with the Keep Your Eye On The Ball campaign story on our official tome to all things Rovers, on the same day that the death of former England footballer Alan Ball was announced. I imagine his son Jimmy Ball shares those exact same sentiments.

I wasn’t too sure on the wisdom of the BBC website report on his death stating that he died “tackling” a bonfire, either. But maybe it was just my warped mind that mused upon Alan spotting the raging inferno trying to make a break towards the garden fence, and lunging into the flames with a thunder-hooven two footed challenge.

Yeah, probably just me.

WITH ALL THE LISTLESS LETHARGY of a SMC website editor, Donblog stirs back into life once more, emerging from an ill-fashioned quilt of printed emails sent with much fury by “Disgusted of Greasebrough”, “Dismayed of Dalton”, “Repulsive of Rotherham” and their ilk over the course of the last couple of weeks, to gaze out upon the World of South Yorkshires football titans, Doncaster Rovers.

Among the string of mis-spelled, poorly punctuated complaints, and the forecasts of doom for Rovers’ future fortunes (PARTICULARLY THE GUY WITH THE PRESUMABLY BROKEN CAPS-LOCK KEY) came a thinly veiled and gleamingly spell-checked threat of legal action being taken due to apparently libellous comments being made about Rotherham United FC in the article below this one. Donblog will not be silenced!

Having said that, it has come to my attention that someone (or something) has been rustling through my bins of an evening since the article went to press. Keep an eye out for those Donblog caught in Miller-baiting sting headlines over the next few weeks. Barry Chuckle has apparently made it his mission to take me down.

Anyhow, back to the regular business of distributing equal portions of ebullient praise and shameless criticism of that team we call the Rovers. My mercifully brief dalliances with our backwards cousins from over the M18 have nevertheless left me feeling as dirty as a Frenchman, and shall be accordingly expunged from the system, much like the insubordinate turd shall eventually fall to the power of the low-level flush.

More on Thursday.