Luton fan @Lewyj90 looks back at the way Nathan Jones has taken the club forward into what, he hopes, will be an new and exciting era for the Bedfordshire outfit…

At the time of writing it is a mere 72 hours before the halcyon days of care-free summer are brought to a shuddering, jarring close. Football fans across the world are yet still bathing in the warm afterglow of a World Cup which vastly exceeded expectations and which, in even more unexpected form, saw a young, hungry England team make a sincere assault on the sport’s greatest prize. Harry Maguire’s “slab-head”, a moral panic involving a Soviet machine-gun tattoo, aquatic unicorns, Jordan Pickford losing his shit. Strange times indeed.

Yet perhaps more significant than the penalty shoot-out victory, the nationwide airborne beer and even the national team’s fourth place finish (I know, it’s not really a thing) is a newfound, somewhat alien, faith prevalent among English fans in their perennially waist-coated, perpetually understated national manager Gareth Southgate. Put simply, this was not meant to happen and happy mistakes are a rarity within the realms of the English national game. The appointment of Sam “Big Sam” Allardyce to the managerial pinnacle of English football in July 2016 now seems but a distant fever dream, born out of the FA’s reflexive satisfaction to chase the absolute minimum in a qualifying campaign, while devoting its resources to a period of deep, intense organisational self-reflection. It will help the game, the English game. We promise. Please, bear with us during this difficult time.

For a man who had so frequently chosen to declare his desire to lead England into an international tournament Allardyce took little time in tearing his tenure as national manager to pieces. A wonky video, a pint of wine and a sheepish backseat escape from a non-descript conference room in the bowels of Wembley have earned him the dubious prize of Most Disappointing Manager in English history. All this despite historically low levels of expectation among the faithful. Bad times indeed.

Being a child of the early nineties, I admit to a somewhat skewed perception of Gareth Southgate. Some sins, like missing penalty kicks, playing for Middlesbrough and hiding your face in a paper bag for a Pizza Hut advert, simply can’t be washed away. I held my prejudices, preconceptions and was proud of them. The guy played for Middlesbrough for God’s sake.

Of course, many devotees of the English game praised the tireless work he had done for the England U-21s during his three-year stint but be honest, did you really expect any of this? Since those teams fortunate enough to find themselves in the dreary vista of the old Division One in 1991 voted to succeed, to release themselves from the onerous realities of a creaking Football League the national game has found itself devoid of consistent managerial talent. With the exception of 1996’s home-ground-advantage powered Euros campaign it has been hard to believe that the invention of the Premier League has been beneficial for English football.

For years the FA stuck to their financially well-lubricated guns and shot forth lucrative contracts in the general direction of managers (either domestic or foreign) with a proven track record of…well, something. Experience was assumed synonymous with future potential and the nation was rightfully eventually rewarded in June 2016 with the harrowing image of Jack Wilshere chewing his knuckles as a sizeable proportion of the Icelandic population celebrated our humiliation on the international stage. The FA’s nihilistic vision of Allardyce leading the nation into 2018 was a particularly fine salt rubbed into a not so fresh wound. Something was rotten in the state of England.

All of this makes it all the more astounding that the saviour of our national team has ended up being a frankly average player who has hauled himself up into a position of authority in the national set-up. In his first official interview Southgate spoke in terms unfamiliar to the England faithful. Mention of the promise of “youth” and an understated, yet sincere, emphasis on the importance of developing a “culture” hung in the air.

Yes, he played for Middlesbrough, but this wasn’t Big Sam, this was something else, something entirely different. Of course, I never watched it at the time, instead assuming the sardonic attitude toward the national team which I believe characterised so many of the English football viewing population. Gareth Southgate taking us to a World Cup. The absurdity of it all. I’ve bought three different pieces of clothing with Three Lions on them since then.

I should have known better. Football has a unique habit of proffering coincidences and patterns which even the most devout of weekend pilgrims are incapable of deciphering. As the 1991 season drew to a close the twenty clubs of the English First Division voted to form a new league with the intent of developing the quality (and profitability) of the same English game which had become a tactical backwater and international footballing pariah. Whilst the good reputation of the English game was ultimately to be recovered on the back of this epochal decision more atavistic intentions were undoubtedly at play. Club legacies were to be established and money was to be made. Within two years of the Premier League’s foundation Alan Shearer secured a £15 million move to Newcastle United, handsomely beating the previous record for a domestic transfer of an English plater by a cool eight million pounds.

Prior to the arrival of the Premier League it was Bryan Robson who held this record with a comparatively paltry £1,500,000 move to Manchester United in 1981. Top level English football had become an entirely different ball game. When viewed from this (admittedly cynical) perspective it is easy to caricature the founding clubs of the Premier League as self-serving and deeply selfish; all branding, TV contracts and sponsorship. That, however, simply doesn’t apply to the football club that holds a very special place in my heart.

If the shady 1991 vote taken to break away from the Football League resembles a Sopranos-esque “sit-down” my guy is the bloke who accidently shot himself in the leg on his way out of the door. Luton Town Football Club are one of only two teams to have voted for the formation of the Premier League and yet never played a single minute upon its hallowed, financially lucrative, turf. A distasteful dollop of ironic icing was splattered on Bedfordshire heads as club legend (icon?)

Mick Harford quickly found his way to becoming Chelsea’s first ever Premier League goal scorer, having recently left Luton as spluttered out of the top tier. For those inclined to delve into it there is a rich vein of hubris ripe for exploitation here.

Luton were an outfit in the 1980s without parallel, a club so unabashedly irreverent toward the highest English division they didn’t even let you play on grass at their place. Plastic was fine for us here. Foster, Hill, the Steins. A riot.

Pleat’s billowing suit. A day out at Wembley. Bedford Trucks. Consequently, nostalgia is a currency well traded in the concrete concourses and upon the cold plastic seats of Kenilworth Road.

Memories of the “Luton Way” have assumed a sort of religiosity among many of our support. I remember seeing a highly functional John Still Conference side head to the tunnel at half time to the sound of boos. They were 3-0 up. The ideology of the “Luton Way” taken to its inherently ridiculous extreme.

Despite the ghost of the 1980s perpetually haunting every step my club takes the injustices, financial and administrative mismanagement experienced by that same organisation are frankly undeserving of space here. Hard working people made great personal sacrifices to compensate for the inexcusable actions of pretend businessmen. They saved the club (every Luton fan should watch this annually).

Suffice to say that Luton Town has been beyond sufficiently admonished by the FA and Football League for whatever it was we were deserving of. If anything. Times change though and we have non -league, half a decade. Andre, John-Paul Kissock, Pelly, Rowe-Turner, McGeehan, Scott Griffiths, Smudger’s broken leg. I think we did alright one year in the FA Cup.

Remember Sumo at his best?

I still live my life by those guiding principles espoused by John Still, the Essex Seneca: “Never too high, never too low.” “Control the controllables”. Heady times are here again. Promotion followed by stagnation, suddenly the guy behind you screaming “Dinosaur out!” week in week out. A strange turn around, a club struggling to find its direction and an almost unknown Welshman unveiled. Uncertain times.

For football clubs nowadays doing football is an absolute minimum. The dominance of Sky Sports and social media forces clubs to mainline fan engagement and interactions, often ending in embarrassing hashtags or supposedly ‘viral’ videos (both elite and not-so-elite).

A manager’s first interview is, of course, no exception. Watching his contribution to this thoroughly modern genre of YouTube videos, as he sits awkwardly squeezed between black and white images of players of yesteryear and trophies that don’t really mean a thing anymore, Nathan Jones appears confident. I think he’d have fought you if you reminded him this was his first “real” management position. Despite having technically signed his first professional contract with Luton in 1995 he never made an appearance and soon left the club to ply his trade in Soria and Badajoz.

I once wandered past Nathan while on a pre-match tour at the Kenny only to hear him round on his right-hand man Joaquim Gomez, barraging him with a torrent of perfectly lisped Spanish. The man made it a long way from the Rhondda Valley and he is not your average League Two manager. However, despite this being his opening salvo to the Luton Town cameras Nathan hits many of the requisite boxes; big club, ambition, desire to work hard, it’s been hectic settling in. Expectation management. It makes sense, it feels right looking back it. As a club and a fanbase we were readjusting to the realities of the Football League. The days of rolling the likes of Kidderminster and Hyde were over. We needed to stabilise ourselves and be sensible. As should by now be abundantly clear this is article is by no means a tactical review of Luton’s recent seasons. I possess neither the know-how nor false confidence to pull that off. Nonetheless it would be criminal to neglect the profound cultural and tactical transition which this young manager has initiated at my club.

John Still had his aphorisms and his team of grizzled old timers, Nathan has a systemic approach to management which leaves no stone unturned. Players are fickle beings but it is a powerful testament to Nathan Jones’ man management that so many newly unveiled and contract-renewing players are so quick to identify the “gaffer” and his vision as the single most important reason for them committing years of their time-limited limited careers to his project.

While some targets have found their way to other clubs Jones has barely put a foot wrong in the transfer market since arriving, securing the services of some highly sought-after, ambitious young footballers. This success is witnessed in his first official signing Alan Sheehan recently being bestowed with the honour of the club captaincy (he is also the scorer of what I consider to be the most technically proficient volley of all time, Sit down Zidane I won’t have any of it).

The man is a model professional, a cool head (straight red card for violent conduct against Lincoln aside, but who wouldn’t to twat Matt Rhead?) and I can see him seeing out his days in orange. Moreover, an even cursory glance over the incomings and outgoings reveals a healthy balance of payments of the behalf of the club. It is with dizzying regularity that Luton players and million-pound transfer fees are now associated. Justin, Vassell, Potts, Marriott. On the pitch Jones has shaped Luton into a team noticeable for playing a progressive style of football, frequently involving high possession and producing intricate passing moves starting from ball playing defenders and aggressive attacking fullbacks. Last season Hatters fans were regularly treated to scintillating displays of attacking proficiency. 8-2, 8-1, 7-0. Exeter away. A four goal riot at Swindon in the downpour. Three goal of the season contenders in one game.

Strikers Danny Hylton (a sort of footballing Loki, causing absolute mayhem at every possible moment) and James Collins both reached the 20-goal mark with every single other outfield player getting on the score-sheet at least once (Glen Rea’s scrappy yet vital tap in against Mansfield epitomises how important these additional goals were).

Only Manchester City scored more goals than the Hatters in the 2017/18 season. However, the basement division of the Football League is not an environment that lends itself particularly well to Total Football, the efficacy of Wycombe’s anti-football tactics in securing promotion being a damning indictment of the division. Despite this Jones’ team was reassuringly proficient in squeezing vital points out of both performances which underwhelmed (Grimsby away, James Collins going crazy at the Ricoh in the 88th minute, Jones out of his mind after Wycombe away, beating his chest like a madman) or matches which descended into little more than wrestling matches broken only by infuriating ‘game management’ theatrics (Thanks Stevenage…).

For a short while, as he refined and perfected his coaching and managerial abilities with the England U-21s, the same skills which made us all so recently believe in the seemingly boundless potential of the national team, Gareth Southgate was accompanied by a scrawny, intense Welshman.

Both men, despite their relative inexperience, now find themselves as unlikely figureheads for recent surges in confidence for their respective teams. While Southgate has quietly built a tight-knit, confident squad of young English talent, Nathan Jones has achieved something similar during his two and half years at Kenilworth Road.

Throughout this tenure, on the back of both resounding victories and painful defeats, he has frequently fallen back on a simple refrain which epitomises a core principal of his managerial philosophy: “I want to give them a team they can be proud of.” Always delivered with a passionate zeal that is very much Jones’ own, this is nonetheless a quote that could easily be misattributed to the manager of the national team.

Though they spent limited time working together within the England set-up in 2015 there is a striking similarity between both men. This is not only witnessed in a somewhat similar approach towards tactics and management but, perhaps more significantly, in the way in which both have made considerable progress toward healing the wounds of the recent footballing past.

As English fans find themselves able to reflect on a World Cup campaign which has restored faith in the national team after years of perpetual disappointment, so are Hatters fans now able to look toward their club’s future with ambition and excitement.

Of course, a huge and potentially unacknowledgeable amount of credit for the Bedfordshire based revival-in-progress is due to Gary Sweet and 2020 (A fan led business consortium led by lifelong Hatters fan Nick Owen. The name references the consortium’s long term target of seeing the club back in the second tier and in a new stadium by 2020.)

I won’t attempt to praise them for their work in lifting the club to where it finds itself because I almost certainly can’t comprehend the extent to which they are responsible. That said, as the club finds itself with its feet on familiar ground after over a decade of relegations, point deductions, fines and promotions they continue their tireless work to secure a move from the creaking relic of 1980s football the club has seemingly always called home. With some luck Nathan Jones will be the man walking the team out onto the virgin turf of the proposed new stadium and consequently bringing the football club into its next phase of existence.

Seeing a one-time unlikely, risky managerial prospect lead the first Luton team out at Power Court would be a fitting moment for not only the club but for the town of Luton itself. Regeneration is, ultimately, a desperate necessity for both. Football has a strange habit of offering patterns and coincidences we can’t, or simply don’t, see as they unfold. Ultimately, in anticipation of the fast approaching season it is probably self-reflection that is the sensible perspective for fans to take. Look at where we are coming from and appreciate where we are going. This is the new Luton Way. It is only fitting to leave the last word to the man himself. On being asked why he chose Luton Town Nathan Jones visibly relaxes into the interview, he knows precisely what he wants to express. He understands the future he wants for the club and by extension for all of us who follow it so closely.

“I just feel that it’s a good match. I feel that our ethos and what we believe in sort of run parallel. It’s an ambitious club that has plans, that wants to go on and to get back to where it was. I believe I have a way of doing things that as I said coincide with our ethos and I think we think alike. I think they were looking for something a little bit different from more experienced managers if you like, so let’s see how our partnership unfolds.”

Regeneration indeed.