Non-league minnows Daventry Town are hoping to pull off the giant-killing of the century later today when they travel to the Proact Stadium, home of League Two millionaires Chesterfield. We caught up with star striker Bert McGrubbin (pictured) ahead of the big game.
McGrubbin asks that we meet him at the entrance to the Daventry dockyard (with Northamptonshire being a landlocked county we have our doubts, but go along anyway) at 6am on a bitter late-October morning. When he's not banging in the goals for the Purple Army, it's here that McGrubbin earns his living, working 27 hour shifts as an industrial chimney cleaner. The interview will have to be quick he says, he's on his lunch break and only gets 20 minutes.
We head to a nearby greasy spoon where McGrubbin orders 'the usual' from an awestruck waitress. This, it transpires, is 4 sausage, 4 bacon, 3 fried eggs and half a black pudding, all washed down with a pint of steamy Bovril. 'What would the team of dieticians, sports scientists and personal chefs at Chesterfield make of all this?', one can't help but wonder.
It certainly seems a strange existence for a modern-day athlete, but with nine young mouths to feed, McGrubbin's £3.50-a-week football wage doesn't quite stretch. He had no choice but to find work elsewhere. Not that he's complaining, and nor should he, his endorsement deal with a local coal merchant (25kg of smokeless for every goal) means he's one of the lucky ones.
Talk turns to his opposite number for Saturday's game, Chesterfield's Argentinian superstar Diego Lopez-Alves-Suarez, famous for his extravagant £50 note bonfires. I ask McGrubbin if he craves that lifestyle, would he trade places? "Been there, done that", comes the quivering reply, "when I were a lad I were on Northwich Victoria's books". He stops abruptly, downs the rest of his Bovril and leaves.
Later that morning we receive a call from Daventry's press secretary/groundsman/kit man/tea lady with an apology on behalf of McGrubbin. It turns out that during this spell at Northwich he developed ricketts, which kept him out of action for 2 and a half years and stunted his development irreparably. An understandably sensitive subject.
It's not all doom and gloom though, Frank Pobbins, the chairman, wants to know if we're free for a chat. Yes we are. To Communications Park!
(Communications Park, home of Daventry Town)
Pobbins greets us by the ticket office (a shed) and we find him in buoyant mood. The revenue generated from this cup run so far is enough to pay for a 75-all-seater-stand outright, and if his side can do the unthinkable and come away from moneybags Chesterfield with a win, there might even be enough cash to build two.
Not that he's getting ahead of himself, he assures us, but we're not having any of it. If he can replicate his success from the business world in the football one (he started his plumbing firm with just him and his van, now he employs three blokes and has two vans), why shouldn't Daventry dream?