one afternoon in september
By Will Foster
Many of us will have that one season or group of players. The one that sucked us into a life of beautiful, miserable, all consuming obsession with football. For me, that was Joe Kinnear’s 2001/2002 Hatters and, when thinking of that team, one game stands out in my mind above all others.
My love of football had really started with the 1990 World Cup. I didn’t fully understand what was going on but enjoyed the visit of relatives for matches, which grew in number as England travelled further into the tournament. I was confused why no one came round for the 3rd place play-off against Italy. ‘Because no one cares about it,’ I can remember being told. Teachers were impressed that I could spell Egypt and Czechoslovakia, not knowing it was because of endless wallchart studying. We waited for hours at Waller Avenue bridge for just the briefest of glimpses of the England team coach making its way to the M1 after landing at Luton airport, my Dad, for some reason, not thinking it worth the effort to going into the town centre like almost everyone else!
Growing up in the 90s wasn’t easy for a fan of a lower-league side. The glitzy exciting Premier League was everywhere – from cheerleaders on a Monday night at Selhurst Park to Andy Gray playing with some new tactics contraption or other. Despite my school being in Luton I was one of only 2 or 3 Town supporters. The fare on the pitch being served up didn’t help much either, bar the the 96/97 season, when, basking in the post Euro 96 glow, we so nearly saw the first Luton promotion of my lifetime (bloody Crewe!)
Strangely, I can remember the sinking in to the bottom division being re-invigorating somehow. Perhaps it was just the novelty of it, or more likely it was the sense of excitement that Joe Kinnear had brought to the job. We had a famous manager and, pretty quickly, a lot of new players. There were five debutants for the first game of the season at Carlisle and many more would arrive in the weeks that followed.
So it was no surprise to hear another new name announced
before the Torquay home match on the 22nd of September. My Dad and I
were standing in the bar under the Kenilworth Stand. We were still only
semi-regular visitors to Kenilworth Road at this point, though we’d attended
every home match so far that season. We had a routine. Park at the Con Club,
then two pints of Fosters before the match at the ground. Pre-smartphone, the
team announcement over the tannoy at 2pm was the only way to hear the team for
the day.
Below: the pre-match entertainment served up before the Torquay game. Note, DJ Otzi, which would become the song of choice throughout the season!
‘Jean-Louis…who?’ It didn’t sound like the kind of player
we usually signed. We’d been thrown some surprises recently, Ian Hillier and Chris
Coyne, but they ‘sounded’ like Luton players. Valois? Was that what the
announcer had said?
Writing in her excellent diary of the season ‘A Brand New Bright Tomorrow’, Caroline Dunn tells of a chance to interview Mick Harford before the game, in which she asked about our new signing.
‘The French lad?’ Mick laughs, ‘yeah, he’s alright.’
What we didn’t know at the time, which Mick obviously did, was that Valois was no ordinary signing. He’d helped Lille qualify for the Champions League in the previous season, but wanting to play in England, he’d headed across the channel where he’d first had a trial at Preston, who were in the 1st Division (Championship) at the time, with former Hatter Graham Alexander apparently surprised that his new team didn’t sign the Frenchman.
Their loss was definitely Luton’s gain. We quickly realised that not only did he not sound like a typical Luton signing, he didn’t look like one either. Then, very quickly, we realised he didn’t play like one.
This wasn’t someone who was supposed to be playing in the
English 4th tier. In the words of Torquay manager Roy McFarland, ‘he
tore us apart and teased us all afternoon.’ Steve Howard, seeking redemption
after a nightmare afternoon at York the previous weekend, opened the scoring
after Carl Griffith’s shot had hit the post. Then, while the Torquay defenders
tried to work out what to do about the long-haired playmaker in the Luton side,
Matt Taylor sent a superb cross in for Carl Griffiths to make it two.
It's one of the great what-ifs of recent Luton history. What if Carl Griffiths had stayed fit all season and been able to gorge on the service of Valois, Taylor et al? 30 goals seems a conservative estimate.
A comedy own-goal from Kevin Nicholls brought Torquay
briefly back into the game. Then, Valois really got going. With two Torquay defenders
in close quarters, he spun onto his left foot and sent a perfect cross onto the
head of Griffiths who made it 3-1 with a brilliant header. Notice definitely
served now.
Below: Carl Griffiths scores his second, while Jean-Louis Valois is congratulated for the delivery.
The 2nd-half, kicking towards the Kenilworth Road
end, was almost hard to believe. Every corner became almost like a penalty as
Valois sent in another delivery. Defenders were turned inside out. Dummies were
sold. Nutmegs were dished out.
The high point came on the hour. A goal to rival the greatest
ever seen at Kenilworth Road. French. Hill. Oakes. Valois. Matt Taylor won the
ball on the half-way line and it bounced kindly to the Frenchman. He was in all
kinds of space, the Torquay players perhaps tired of trying to deal with him,
and he took just one touch and shimmied into position. Then, it happened. I was almost perfectly
behind the goal and to my dying day will never forget how it flew past poor old
Kevin Dearden and into the net.
I can remember both my Dad and I just laughing. It had
seemed so inevitable. Of course he was going to lash one in from 35 yards out. That
had become obvious. Even the Torquay fans gave the goal a standing ovation. It’s
become a moment etched into the very fabric of our club. When you say, ‘the
Valois goal,’ fans of a certain age go misty eyed and will forever more.
Below: Poor old Kevin Dearden is left clutching at air as Valois's strike flies past him.
In many ways the fifth goal was almost as good. Matt
Taylor sent in another brilliant cross where it was met by a flying Carl Griffiths.
Dearden was left clutching at air once more. It was a hat-trick for the Welshman,
a first by any Luton player since Tony Thorpe against Blackpool in January 1998.
He was given the Top Hatter award in the Luton News, but walking away from the
game there was only one name on everyone’s lips and a new song would be born.
‘Ooh-ah, Valois.’
Now Kinnear had work to do. Because he was on non-contract terms, any club could have stolen Valois away. The very next day over a long Sunday lunch, at which you hope there were expensive wines and cigars, he persuaded the Frenchman to sign a deal until the end of the season. ‘He’s going to put a lot of bums on seats,’ said Kinnear.
Count me in that number. After the Torquay match, season
tickets were purchased quickly. As were the home and away shirts. The season – ‘that’
season that leaves you completely obsessed forever more – had really begun. Both
Kinnear and Valois seemed to signal a new Luton, one where anything was possible
again. It wouldn’t work quite that way of course, but that doesn't really matter. Football is about the small moments. It's about the...je ne sais quoi.
Below: Jean-Louis Valois receives his goal of the season award from Nick Owen.
