It is 26 years since the first airing of Dream Team, the show which chronicled the exploits of fictional Midlands club Harchester United. The footballing soap opera graced our screens for a decade on Sky One, clocking up 419 episodes, 42 deaths (including plane crashes, exploding coaches, lethal injections, and impalement on a coat peg) as well as a single Premier League title, achieved in the show’s glorious 2007 finale.
The original series had focused on the fortunes of the youth team. But it was the second series, which culminated in a fateful FA Cup final at Wembley, which became the blueprint for the utterly bonkers years that followed.
For fans of Harchester United, the events of May 20, 1999 remain etched in their memories. It was the Dragons’ day of destiny, when they defeated Alex Ferguson’s all-conquering Manchester United, crushing their dreams of a Treble in the process.
And, as ever with Dream Team, it was a day when triumph quickly turned to tragedy.
Strike It Lucky
The season had started with high hopes in Harchester. Stepping out of his brother’s shadow (older sibling Dean had made a big-money transfer to Turkey in the summer) young Sean Hocknell had finally found his feet in the first team. Like any young forward, he was keen to impress – a constant ball of energy, he tore around the pitch like he’d injected liquid Duracell into his bloodstream.
Manager Ian Coates saw the youngster as the perfect foil for Karl Fletcher, whose attitude to training was so relaxed it was a wonder he didn’t turn up with a deckchair and flip-flops.
Despite his questionable work rate, ‘Fletch’ was already a fan favourite in this neck of the woods. A legendary lothario who was as prodigious under the bright lights of the Premier League as he was in the cosy corners of Studs’ nightclub – the venue of choice for Harchester glitterati. John Travolta on the streets, George Best between the sheets, Fletch was looking for a calmer start to this campaign after a hectic 12 months whereby he served a ban for cocaine use and slept with both the chairwoman and her daughter, which answered any question marks about his stamina, if nothing else.
The duo – who soon became housemates – started in fine fettle, with Hocknell scoring twice and Fletcher once in a 3-0 rout of Tottenham Hotspur. Then, within weeks, a spate of new arrivals threw the season into turmoil.
That’s Amor-eh?
When new owner Jerry Block introduced his wife Lynda, it stirred a fire in the loins of the Dragons’ leading scorer. But before Fletcher could even whack on his Joop! and his white jeans, a sensational new signing dealt him a major distraction. Argentine star Luis Amor Rodriguez was not only a striker of international repute, but his Latino looks threatened Fletch’s status as Harchester’s leading man. The two immediately became heated rivals on and off the pitch, even making a wager as to who would woo Lynda first.
At this point, you had to feel for boss Ian Coates. You can do all the coaching badges you like, study the pros and cons of a high defensive line, or the merits of a continental wing-back system. But there was no chapter in the Uefa curriculum on how to deal with two egotistical strikers both intent on playing away with the chairman’s missus.
Then again, Coates wasn’t exactly immune to the sins of the flesh himself. And as Christmas approached, his own past would have dramatic repercussions for the future.
Boss Bottles it
Unbeknownst to the squad, Coates was a recovering alcoholic who had beaten the bottle thanks to the support of his wife Ingrid. The latter had yet to make the move from their home in Holland. In her absence, Coates had begun an affair with the club’s Youth Education Officer and also turned to the bottle as Harchester’s league woes continued.
The year ended with a particularly punishing defeat at the Valley – an episode which featured a cameo from Alan Curbishley. The Charlton boss’ performance was so wooden one wondered if he had been temporarily replaced by a fence panel. At least he kept his emotions in check, whilst Coates lost his in a fiery rant at the referee which was captured by the Sky cameras. He was duly suspended from active duty as manager and took an interim role as Director of Football.
Long-serving youth team coach Frank Patcham, who wore the permanent frown of a man who’d just found a melted choc ice in his back pocket, was named caretaker boss and oversaw a nervy 1-0 win over Barnsley in the FA Cup third round.
Patch-up Job
Patcham’s appointment steadied a ship that seemed to be hurtling towards the iceberg. Rodriguez, Hocknell and Fletcher dismissed West Ham United 4-0 at the Dragons’ Lair in the fourth round.
It was quite the return for Hocknell, whose form had been up and down more often than Henry VIII’s guillotine. He’d fallen in love with his brother’s girlfriend, been dumped by his brother’s girlfriend, and then accidentally married his mate’s long-lost sister on a boozy trip to Vegas to drown his sorrows.
When his brother’s girlfriend returned to profess her love for him, the young striker was left to make a choice between the women vying for his affections. Over the following weeks he flitted between both, showing all the decision-making of a rabbit crossing a dual carriageway.
Thankfully his resolve in front of goal remained firm, as he scored the winner in the fifth round versus Spurs.
Black in Business
Though he was no longer welcome in the dugout, Coates was still active in the transfer market. With Harchester’s defence weakened by a death by carbon monoxide poisoning and a failed drugs test – a tough day at the office for any top-flight physio - he scouted an old friend who might just be interested in one last crack at the big time.
John Black was once a top-tier centre-back, but a succession of injuries meant he was now plying his trade as a lower-league journeyman. Blighted by knees with the structural integrity of a packet of Quavers, he had reluctantly admitted defeat and was intent on retiring at the end of the season. Out of the blue, he received a call from Coates, a former team-mate. “Come to the Dragons’ Lair. Be my captain. Help us win the FA Cup.”
Black’s arrival shored up a leaky defence, but there were still massive problems elsewhere on the pitch. By spring time, Harchester’s front three were barely on speaking terms.
Harchester Hit Men
Much to Fletch’s chagrin, Rodriguez had begun a passionate affair with Lynda Block and their efforts to keep it a secret were about as impressive as Bobby Charlton’s concealment of male pattern baldness. Rumours were rife within the camp, though they didn’t reach the office of Jerry Block. The chairman had unknowingly made his wife’s lover the new first-team manager, possibly the worst recruitment decision since the Titanic proudly announced their new navigator.
Meanwhile, Fletch had problems closer to home. He’d been kicked out of the house by Hocknell for raising doubts about the latter’s new bride, though his suspicions would later prove correct as she made false assault allegations against Luis in a desperate attempt to retain Hocknell’s affections.
Incredibly, the strike force put their differences aside as Fletcher and Rodriguez notched the goals in a 2-1 win over Birmingham City in which new signing Black put in a tremendous performance, to send them through to the semi-final.
Again, despite the domestic disasters elsewhere – by now Luis was under police investigation – the Dragons dragged themselves back from the brink. Rodriguez scored a late winner in a five-goal thriller.
With the ink barely dry on the tickets for Wembley, the club lurched into chaos once again. The entente cordiale in attack was short-lived as Hocknell and Rodriguez came to blows on the pitch in a 3-0 loss to Coventry City the week before the final.
Off the pitch, Jerry Block had discovered the truth about his wife and Luis, including their plans to elope after the cup final. It left the chairman with the most awful of choices. Should he a) divorce his dear bride and let her swan off into the sunset with her new beau? Or b) ignore his own heartbreak and let Luis potentially lead Harchester to FA Cup glory?
It has often been said that with great power comes great responsibility. In the dark days that followed, Block wrestled with the realisation that he would have to sacrifice his own personal happiness, so that many thousands of Dragons’ fans could enjoy theirs. Thankfully, in a moment of inspiration he landed upon an unlikely solution: Option c) let Luis potentially lead Harchester to FA Cup glory – then hire a hitman to shoot the bastard when he’s lifting the trophy.
Problem solved.
Dressing room distress
As the minutes ticked down to kick-off, it looked like calm had finally taken hold of Harchester’s stormy season. Luis had been cleared of the fabricated allegations, and Sean’s perjurious partner had admitted her deceit. She left him, and their marriage, to allow Hocknell to fulfil every boy’s childhood dream of playing at Wembley… and shacking up with his brother’s wife.
But it wasn’t all good news for Harchester’s rookie player-boss. John Black, the ever-dependable John Black, the man who had stood firm whilst the club had threatened to capitulate around him, was unfit to play. With a heavy heart, he informed Rodriguez that his long-standing knee injury had struck again, and he was worried he would let the team down.
His manager implored him to take a cortisone injection and play through the pain barrier. “We need you, John. Please. Lead us.”
Pitched battle
Despite his self-doubt, Black led the team into the Wembley sunshine. With all the internal unrest, there had barely been any time to focus on the mammoth task that faced Harchester. Manchester United were not only the league champions; they were chasing a historic treble. The press considered the FA Cup a formality ahead of the main business of a Champions League final against Bayern Munich.
When Paul Scholes nearly put United ahead just seconds into the game, it appeared the media’s dismissal of the Dragons’ chances was justified. Indeed, only a last-ditch tackle stopped Teddy Sheringham scoring the opener moments later. Slowly but surely, Harchester found a foothold in the game and made it to the safety of the dressing room goalless at half-time.
The peace was broken abruptly by the sudden appearance of Coates. His marriage now in tatters and his alcoholism out of control, he barged in and held a broken bottle to Rodriguez’s throat. It took a passionate plea from his old pal Black to talk him down. With his players visibly shocked, Rodriguez needed to seize the moment to stun them back into action.
“WE WILL WIN THIS MATCH!” he roared, sounding like the offspring of an unlikely tryst between Mel Gibson’s Braveheart and Manuel from Fawlty Towers. His words had the desired effect. Early in the second half, a beautifully-executed corner from Hocknell and Fletcher found their strike partner in the six-yard box. Rodriguez buried the header.
The lead lasted just a matter of minutes. A Ryan Giggs corner, a Ronny Johnsen header, and parity was restored. Alex Ferguson’s side were back in the groove. Only a sensational block by Black stopped Jordi Cruyff putting them in front. Had Harchester missed their chance?
We got our answer with four minutes remaining. Another set piece, another moment of unity between Hocknell, Fletcher and Rodriguez in a season when so often they’d been at odds. The Argentine player-boss headed home the winner. The hordes of Harchester fans were in dreamland.
Zero to Hero
No one savoured the moment more than a tearful John Black, who could scarcely believe the miracle unfolding before his eyes. Just a few months earlier he’d been all set for football’s scrapheap, now here he was, ending his career on the highest of highs.
Black had become the unofficial moral conscience of Harchester. There were no sordid stories of his past; he was a man of moral fibre. A man who lived for the love of a game that – until now – had not loved him back. Football was changing. Players’ wages – and egos – were inflating at a rapid rate. The game wasn’t one he recognised anymore. He was too honest for a profession that was becoming more sordid by the season.
When he lifted the FA Cup aloft, it felt like justice had been done. For once, Dream Team’s producers had given us that rarest of commodities: a true hero.
Until they bloody shot him.
Fade to Black
Moments later, the sound of gunfire rang out across Wembley and the series faded to black.
It wasn’t until the following August that we found out the extent of the damage. As per Jerry Block’s instruction, the sniper lurking in the shadows of the stadium’s upper levels had taken aim at Luis Amor Rodriguez during the post-match celebrations. In a cruel twist of fate, Lynda Block had unwittingly intercepted the bullet’s path at the last second, grazing her head in the process. As he had done all afternoon, Black threw himself in the way of danger and absorbed the full force of the second shot. The centre-half had successfully repelled the likes of Sheringham and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer all afternoon, but the sniper’s shrapnel delivered a mortal blow.
For the Dragons’ FA Cup-winning first team, it was the end of an emotional journey. A journey that had seen the season strewn with deceit, disgrace and, ultimately, a hero’s dramatic demise.
For the thousands of viewers who would tune into Sky One on Sundays for years to come, it was just another day on Dream Team.
And how we loved it.
