Stepping inside Harrogate Town's training ground, the music feels like some sort of sign from up above. A premonition of what's about to happen.
The lyrics of A-ha's classic 1980s track Take On Me hit FourFourTwo with more significance than ever before. Blaring out as we approach the office door of manager Simon Weaver, surely this can't be a coincidence. “Take on me, take me on,” the pop icons croon.
Admittedly, it seems unlikely that the longest-serving boss in English football's top five tiers has invited us to the outskirts of Leeds to see whether we're suitable to join his coaching team full-time. But invitations to shadow a manager with such access are so rare – he's allowing us to spend time with him, and even sit in the dugout for this weekend's National League game with Eastleigh – there's a glimmer of hope that he's harbouring a secret agenda.
After all, on some level, most football fans believe they could be a success as a manager or coach. While making it big as a player might be the childhood dream, that's quickly extinguished upon the realisation we're not particularly talented at kicking a ball. In contrast, the average fan's belief they can set up a winning team is everlasting. So maybe Weaver has spotted something in us?
Natural born manager
Weaver himself must have had that same feeling when, back in 2009, he applied for the vacant manager's job at Harrogate. As a 31-year-old ex-pro who'd suffered three leg breaks during his career, he knew his time as a player was coming to an end, despite recently captaining Ilkeston Town to promotion to Conference North, the same division in which Harrogate were plying their trade. There were opportunities to carry on playing, but it was just too tempting to take his first step in a direction he'd always seemed destined for.
“At school, I was always picking the football team or planning tactics on my notepad instead of doing work, or picking the England team in my head,” Weaver recalls to FFT. “It was actually my brother who said to me in my 20s that because of the way I talked about the game and thought about it, I was probably going to be a better manager than a player. I got my coaching qualifications because of that.”
That grounding held the former Lincoln City centre-back in good stead. Living in nearby Wetherby, his application for the Harrogate job included a breakdown of his contacts in the local area and his ideas for the club. It was that attention to detail that got him the nod. He's been the club's manager ever since.
Within minutes in Weaver's company, it's clear he hasn't lost his attention to detail in the 17 years since. As he shows us around the training ground, which they share with Rothwell Juniors, he points out the things the club have done to get the most out of the facilities.
From the coffee machine he bought and the seat covers his wife put on the chairs in the communal area, to the makeshift gym created in the corridor and training pitch standards they've instilled since moving in, Weaver's job is more than simply the playing side.
That's been the same for his entire tenure, which started when Harrogate had only two players – two years later, Weaver's father Irving bought the club, and together they took the team to the Football League, where they remained for six years before relegation last term.
This October, Weaver bought out his dad's stake, together with businessman Jonathan Blezard, meaning that the club's manager is also now co-owner.
Attempting to bounce back to the EFL at the first attempt, it was a promising start to the current campaign for the Sulphurites, whose nickname refers to the sulphur springs that feed the town's spa. Back-to-back defeats in the two games before our visit have threatened to derail that early promise, though.
After showing us around, Weaver must dash to complete the final prep before the home match with Eastleigh. The players are coming in to go through the plan for the contest, and it's the manager's job to let captain Warren Burrell know he won't be starting.
“I always have those chats before we do the pre-match session,” Weaver says. “You don't want someone finding out they're not in the team when it comes up on screen in front of everyone, so I like to let them know before and explain the reasons why. From the first day, I've always wanted to be straight, look at people and manage them as I'd want to be managed.”
That hasn't always been the way. Not so many years ago, it was common for players to have no warning until the team was revealed, even ahead of some of the biggest games of their career. “Going back to my day, you'd walk outside and it would be, ‘Right, this is the team, everyone else, over there,'” explains Weaver's long-time assistant Paul Thirlwell, formerly a player with Sunderland, Sheffield United and Derby in the 1990s and 2000s.
“The day before a game, you know if you're getting called to the manager's office, nine times out of 10 it's not good news. In the 10 years I've worked here though, I don't think we've ever left out a player who's not been given the whys. It's exhausting, but in a good way – with all the things that he [Weaver] has to do already, he also needs to tell people why they aren't in the team. It's another 45 minutes of your morning.”
Learning from Big Ron
While Burrell is told he's been dropped before the team meeting, replacement Grant Horton won't know beforehand that he's got the nod. Weaver believes it gives the player put in the team a boost to see their name up there.
It's especially significant this time – the Eastleigh game will be Horton's first league start of the season and only his third since joining the club in January. That swap won't be what Weaver and his staff home in on as their pre-match briefing gets underway, though. As the players pull up seats and gather around the screen in the bar-turned-briefing room, the initial focus is all on Eastleigh.
They're shown how their opposition are expected to line up, with Eastleigh's strengths and weaknesses highlighted, before a series of clips from previous games is shown to illustrate how they'll play. Weaver's instructions are succinct and to the point. There's no time for overloading the players with details.
He runs through the Spitfires' attacking moves and shows examples of how to beat their press, before handing over to goalkeeper coach Phil Priestley to demonstrate plans for defensive set-pieces. To round off the session, coach Josh Falkingham takes to the screen, running through some attacking set-piece routines – including examples from Brighton's recent Premier League win over Arsenal.
Using Falkingham, a newly qualified A Licence coach who spent eight years as Harrogate captain before retiring in 2025, to talk about more innovative ideas is a deliberate ploy. It's not only about mixing up the number of voices passing on messages to the squad, but also a clear distinction between sessions that are building up familiarity with consistent team tactics, and others with new approaches.
After Thirlwell carries out small group instructions for the back four, midfield and front three, the players head outside to walk through what they've just been shown. FFT are handed a Harrogate coat to look the part on the training pitch. If we looked like an outsider before, we're feeling like one of the gang now.
Out on the grass, Weaver is quiet and studious, letting Falkingham and Thirlwell lead training. It's part of the plan to take a backwards step, and although it hasn't always been the way throughout his 17 years in charge, he prefers to say as little as possible once his briefing is done.
Weaver's experience has taught him that messages from a manager carry more weight than from the rest of the coaching team and can cause players to overthink what's been said, or put more emphasis on those comments than other instructions. It's a move that also protects the allure of the boss, ensuring that when he speaks, his words have maximum impact.
It's one of several techniques Weaver has added to his managerial armoury since starting out. It's been a gradual evolution, and while he recognises the importance of maintaining certain values, he believes adaptability is his most important trait.
“When I look back, it was probably a bit cringeworthy when I started, because I tried to do everything and be like, ‘Oh, I'm this new kid on the block, I've got to be like this or that,'” he says. “I'd played under a series of managers and had various ideas, but because I became a manager suddenly, it took me a while to get my flow.
“In some respects, I'm glad I did it that way, but in other respects, it would probably have been easier if I'd coached in a team for a couple of years, made mistakes and thought, ‘Oh, that's me.'”
The 48-year-old drew inspiration from several sources, including his former Lincoln boss Keith Alexander, plus the Sheffield Wednesday sides of Howard Wilkinson and Ron Atkinson he watched from the Hillsborough terraces as a kid. It wasn't necessarily the playing styles he took, as much as the camaraderie and atmosphere they created.
That influence is clear after spending a day at the training ground. Weaver has mentioned on several occasions about the “edge” that closeness will give the side in the toughest moments, but it's more than a slogan. The core of the squad and the backroom staff is built around long-servers who have lived Harrogate's story.
“Sometimes I've been to grounds and seen values plastered up everywhere, but it's people who carry them out or not – that defines a culture,” Weaver reasons. “I always wanted really good people around me to carry that out. I realised in my first year that you can't just do it all yourself, everybody's got to be on board with that.”
"Meat and veg, Gaffer?"
The proof of the pudding for this group will be matchday. A third successive defeat would puncture their early season hope and spread doubt about Weaver's new-look team. But as FFT arrive at the ground early on Saturday, at the same time as the players, there is a relaxed feeling among the squad.
Harrogate's Wetherby Road home has enjoyed its own transformation in the time Weaver has been in charge, from a quintessential non-league outpost that hosted a few hundred every week to a ground that comfortably houses several thousand. New stands, adorned with pictures of past glories, now surround the pitch, alongside upgraded facilities.
The home dressing room is also smartly decked out, with motivational messages hung all around. It's there that Weaver addresses his players an hour-and-a-half ahead of kick-off, taking a couple of minutes to repeat the main messages of the day before. Once more, he avoids giving too much information, keeping it simple and to the point.
The important work has been done in the week, so once he's had his say, Weaver hands over to his coaches for the warm-ups. He keeps out of the way, busying himself by chatting to opposition boss Matt Gray and the referee assessor, and then does something FFT has never seen a manager do this close to kick-off – heading into the hospitality section to take part in a Q&A.
Standing in front of a trolley full of meat, veg and Yorkshire puddings, Weaver takes the mic to discuss his team selection and analyse the match – the one he'll be in the dugout for in less than 30 minutes' time.
After some schmoozing with club patrons, he finally heads back to the dressing room at 2.50pm for one last gee-up of the players. Strangely enough, he forgets to mention one important detail before sending the players out. There'll be a new face in the dugout for today's game… FFT.
Weaver has invited us to sit on the bench alongside the subs, physios and the rest of the coaching team for the entirety of the match. We'll be dressed in our club jacket again, albeit in the far corner at the back of the dugout – ergo, the least high-profile spot available.
If we had any visions of making tactical small talk and sharing some genius that changes the game, they're quickly scuppered. Weaver and Thirlwell prefer standing out at the edge of the technical area throughout, meaning we'd have to speak incredibly loudly to get our opinions heard. That's probably a good thing, because the speed of play at pitchside and a host of other things going on along the touchline make it hard to form much meaningful insight.
What we do spot, though, is Harrogate taking the lead early on, with a low cross by Lewis Cass flummoxing Eastleigh keeper Josh Jeffries, who can only paw it into the path of Brad Dolaghan to poke home from close range. It's 1-0, but we're still getting our bearings.
The pace doesn't slow for the rest of the half. Weaver and Thirlwell regularly bark out instructions, Falkingham jumps from his perch to pass on his thoughts, and the fourth official is consulted to explain a couple of tight calls.
When Eastleigh level from a corner, the coaches congregate to carry out an impromptu post-mortem to understand what went wrong. Gathered around the analysis screen, they pore over how the ball was allowed to make its way across the box, calling over sub goalkeeper Mark Oxley to ask his opinion.
If conceding in that manner was frustrating, Weaver's team selection offers some respite, Horton repaying the faith put in him by winning a header that somehow finds its way through to Dolaghan, who nudges home a scruffy second. While Thirlwell laughs about how the goal occurred, Town are happy to take it – they lead 2-1 at half-time.
FFT: Lucky charm
While it undoubtedly lightens the mood in the dressing room, the goal they conceded remains the big talking point. The conversation is allowed to rage on for several minutes among the players before Weaver emerges to talk to the group. It's smart management. The players have already had their say, offering up their perspectives, before the gaffer has the final word. There's no need for finger pointing now, just solutions as he explains how a similar scenario can be prevented. “Let's not come in talking about set-pieces again, because we know our jobs,” Weaver ends in his broad Yorkshire lilt. It's no threat, but carries clout.
Eastleigh change their shape for the second half, but struggle to wrestle control from Harrogate. Yet while the lead only stands at one, nobody can sit comfortably on the home bench.
A Sam Dreyer header appears to settle those nerves on the hour, but when a late offside flag rules it out, it only dials up the rising tension. Weaver's calm demeanour starts to fray. “It's either sideways or backwards,” he laments out loud. Given that the header teeing up Dreyer was from close to the byline, it's easy to see why he's upset.
The clock ticks on with little reward for Harrogate's possession, as the visitors keep them at bay. When a free-kick in Spitfires territory is played short, the coaching team complain in unison at the missed chance to get a ball into the box. Weaver's insistence that his players can solve problems themselves comes to the fore, though, as they work it back into the middle, where Bailey Hobson drills a low drive in from 30 yards out.
The strike brings the entire bench, including FFT, to their feet. It's impossible not to be caught up in the team spirit. Amid the celebrations, Thirlwell declares it “the best idea in the world to go short now”, poking fun at his protestations only seconds earlier. One of the subs even pipes up, asking Falkingham where the set-piece routine came from because “you didn't do that one”.
It's now about holding on to the advantage, with Weaver and Thirlwell mimicking conductors of an orchestra, frantically shouting and waving to direct players to avoid the high press.
If that was a sign of any remaining anxiety, substitute George Thomson eases it with one minute left, unleashing his own long-range effort to make it 4-1. Three points secured, without FFT needing to offer any unsolicited advice.
As tempted as we are to kiss the Harrogate badge on our jacket before saluting the crowd in the post-match celebrations, we decide to keep a more low-key profile. We do shake hands with players from both sides though – the Eastleigh squad presumably think we're a bona fide member of the staff.
While we make our way back into the dressing room, the real stars of the show bask in the victory outside. It takes several minutes before everyone is back for Weaver's final team talk, and the conversation soon turns to our role in the win. “You can come every week,” says one of the physios, within Weaver's earshot. “You're our lucky charm.”
It doesn't take the manager long to consider that prospect. “We'll have to get you a contract sorted,” he laughs. “Then you can come here more often.”
We know it's not a serious offer, but it awakens something inside us again. It's the same twinge of hope we felt when we first arrived at the training ground, only without the 1980s tunes. Maybe it's a dream that will never die, but this could be the closest we get to living it.
