by Matt Morgan-Rawes

Created on: August 01, 2008

Portsmouth Football Club: A ship on course for great things

The year is 2002. Fratton Park is three-quarters full, although the pathetic volume being produced by those who bothered to watch the match against Burnley would certainly defy the numbers in attendance. Harry Redknapp is sat in the South Stand next to Milan Mandaric wearing a weary expression. A true legend of the English game, his bored, un-impressed scowl serves to reinforce the notion that a manager of his calibre should not be watching a mediocre, First Division team limp and shuffle nervously around a pitch that is supposed to be their home ground. Fortress Fratton it was certainly not.

At this time, Redknapp had the not-so prestigious title of "Director of Football" bestowed upon him; what this actually means still remains a mystery to many professional and amateur pundits, although I myself offer the suggestion that a Director of Football is merely the official title of a manager in waiting. He looks uninspired as his small, shrewd eyes scan the decrepit stadium and its embarrassed fans. "Things need to change around here, Milan" he says as he leans to the right to speak to his Chairman and future boss. "You're telling me", Mandaric replies, whilst youngster Neil Barrett fires an ambitious left footed shot that whistles through the air and ends up hitting the corner flag.

Meanwhile, Grahame Rix is standing as close to the pitch as the F.A rulebook allows him to. The vein in his forehead throbs as he barks instructions to his players. "Get back", "Mark him up!", "Release it!" he screams; every command he fires onto the pitch is just another measure to try and save his job. Rix needs Portsmouth to find some kind of form - Manchester United's treble winning form of 1999, Liverpool's form in the mid 1980s, any kind of quality will do.

The game finishes 0-0. The crowd pour out of the stadium, trudging home in a typical April shower and discussing the short-comings of their beloved team. "They just cannot defend" one man with a pot-belly offers. A more youthful lad tells his friend that "they need to score goals!" A wise old sage, meanwhile, sighs to himself and says to his wife that "they just don't look like they want it."

Allow me to fast-forward to the 5th May, 2008. After an uncharacteristically quiet first half, Sol Campbell - yes, ex Tottenham, Arsenal and England centre back Sol Campbell - leads his troops back onto the most majestic of English battlefields. Not Edgehill or Marston Moor, but

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