A strange feeling..
News has reached us today that we have parted company with manager John Still. Although results this season have not gone as any of us would’ve wished and the time is probably right for Still to go, we still feel we should pay tribute to a great manager and a great man, one who shall remain loved by many, in the following prose.
Cast your minds back to February 2013. Macklemore and Ryan Lewis were top of the U.K. Charts with their absolute shambles of a single Thrift Shop, Reeva Steenkamp had just been murdered by Paralympic torso and all round fuck bucket Oscar Pistorius; and our beloved Luton Hats sat in 10th position in the conference, 14 points off the play offs, in what was our fourth consecutive season at that level. In short, these were dark days.
Enter John Still. From the day that he replaced Paul Buckle, Still displayed a Cockney charm that couldn’t help but win you over. Here was a man you couldn’t help but like and wish well. The rest of the 2012/13 season passed in fairly nondescript fashion (choosing to forget the mauling we received against a Carlisle/Gateshead XI) as we eventually finished in 7th place and missed out on the play offs, having never really threatened.
Fast forward a few months, and the 2013/14 season forever remembered as John Still’s finest hour (or 8 months). Replacing much of the dead wood (and Scott Rendell, who was an absolute genius, don’t say he wasn’t, he was) and replacing them with players he knew well, accompanied by some exciting in-season signings such as Cameron McGeehan and Pelly Ruddock, Still built a squad well worthy of a title challenge.
The first game of the season saw us travel north to Southport. A good mob of RiGs made the journey with a Manchester doosey on the mind. The Town went down 1-0, with 10 men, and having missed a penalty courtesy of the token “he should have been brilliant but it never really worked out” player of the season, Shaun Whalley. At full-time, optimism was still high among the group as we sang “We’re gonna win the league” – accompanied by the asbestos king of the UK – in the Southport clubhouse well into the blurry evening. At the time we were dismissed as drunken idiots. While there can be no doubt of our drunkenness, you could also not doubt our excellent mystic powers. Sir John of Luton would eventually prove us right.
After a slow start, Still finally got the Luton juggernaught fired up, not losing a single game between September and March. During this time our form found us travelling in heavy numbers to weird and wonderful places like Tamworth, Nuneaton, Salisbury and Halifax and having memorable, booze fuelled days out at all.
As beers in plastic cups flowed and pointless pitch invasions followed, we overhauled Cambridge with consummate ease (due to their inability to win a league game for approximately 4 years between December and March) – Sir John’s Luton were edging towards the title.
I will always vividly remember Dartford away, early April 2013. We were so close to the title, but had stuttered in recent weeks. Had Sir John lost his charm? Cambridge were picking up a head of steam again, and the gap slowly closing. With Luton’s huge know-how in fucking things up, certain peoples (not ours, by the way) bums were beginning to squeak.
Especially as we went 1-0 down. Some farmer or something scored for them. We weren’t playing well, Cambridge were winning. JS brought on Luke Rooney with about 20 minutes to go and, despite him flattering to deceive for most of his time here, he changed the game. In front of 2,000 or so travelling Luton Hats, Pelly Ruddock smashed home an equaliser with about 5 minutes remaining to send the Bedfordshire hordes in to raptures. JS was dancing on the touchline. He knew we were almost there.
Step up Andre Gray. A man who hadn’t been in JS’ plans at the start of the season, but one who went on to score 23,500 goals that season. A simple header from Captain Henry’s cross in the 89th minute. Delirium. Dartford 1-2 Luton. That was effectively that, we were as good as Champions, and we were back in the Football League. Bravo, John. Bravo.
We officially wrapped up the title later in April as Cambridge lost at Kidderminster, and we had one last, brilliant, non league doosey at Hyde. The bits I remember of that weekend will never be forgotten, so a personal thank you from me to Mr Still for that. Honourable mentions also to Clint Boon for a superb DJ set in South Club, Manchester on the Saturday night and Gianluca for his constant love and support. Same rules apply.
Back in the football league and optimism was high. A Mark Cullen winner at Carlisle on the opening day had us bouncing. We had a superb first half of the season, including seven (7!) league wins in a row, and it saw us challenging at the top of the table again. Sadly, we were unable to maintain this form and eventually finished 8th, one place outside the playoffs. I don’t think there’s many Luton fans would’ve been disappointed by that at the start of the season though, especially having lost our captain and top goalscorer from the season before, and if you would’ve been then you’re a bit strange really ain’t ya? Ain’t ya? Eh? Yeah, you are.
After an extremely disappointing start to the current season that has continued in to the early Christmas period, we feel the time is right for John to depart with his head still held high. He will always be remembered with fondness by The RiGs and the majority of Luton fans in general. The man who lifted us from the mire and dragged us back into the Football League, something that many before him had tried and failed to do.
So, Sir John, if you’re reading, thanks for everything. Best of luck with your future endeavours or retirement, whatever your plans are. Anytime you fancy coming for a beer with us, get in touch. I guarantee you won’t have to put your hand in your pocket all night but you strike me as a generous man so mine’s a Kronenbourg, mate.
Love you forever, you doddery old git. Thank you for the memories.
Viva Alfie Mawson.
The RiGs.
Luton Town RiGs 