When Howe Met Iraola: A Bournemouth Multiverse Fantasy Match Report

Ten years ago, mid-table AFC Bournemouth opened April with back-to-back draws - a familiar outcome that Cherries supporters have become all too accustomed to in recent times, however, it proved to be our best ever season, one where Eddie and JT's charges accrued 46 points and a ninth placed finish.

Whilst league positions are not largely different in the present day, Andoni Iraola's Bournemouth "feel" like a different animal, and these days - there is a sense that there is a desire to thrive rather than just survive, but what happens when nostalgia meets the present day?

In a clash that would leave even the most hardened time-traveller scratching their head, we pit Andoni Iraola’s organised chaos of 2025/26 against Eddie Howe's free-flowing overachievers in 2016/17. Think of it as a friendly that got wildly out of hand... High lines versus higher expectations, old favourites against new heroes, and at least one imaginary VAR check just to keep things modern.

Strap in - this is Bournemouth vs Bournemouth, with bragging rights stretching across a decade.

The tone was set early. Artur Boruc, already conducting his own private party between the posts, broke into a brief strut before launching a goal kick into orbit. Opposite him, Neto responded by punching - yes, punching - a harmless back pass clear - technically illegal, and this time costly.

From the resulting indirect free kick, the unassuming yet gifted Junior Stanislas stepped up and, with trademark elegance, bent the ball home. Howe’s Bournemouth led 1–0 - and, true to form, wanted more.

They got it.

The magnificent Charlie Daniels whipped in a corner, and Steve Cook rose like a man personally offended by gravity, powering a header goalwards. Neto attempted to punch it. He did not get there. 2–0 to Eddie's Chez.

Later, the energetic Ryan Christie buzzed, harried, won the ball from Andrew Surman, lost it to Dan Gosling, won it back, beat three men… and then absolutely skied it. Soon after though, Antoine Semenyo took a different approach - driving inside and unleashing a strike of magnificent ferociousness. Thwack! He has a foot like a traction engine. It flew past a bedazzled Boruc. 2–1.

Howe’s response came not from the pitch, but the touchline - where his assistant, the impossibly tanned Jason Tindall, all white teeth and cheeky glint, attempted to gee up the side while blocking Howe’s view of the pitch.

Inspired (or perhaps dazzled), Ryan Fraser slithered through a gap, scurried between defenders, and wriggled a traitorous cross into the box. An assured Callum Wilson converted with ease and a smile - only to later limp off around the 70th minute. 3-1 to Eddie's men.

Iraola's side responded. Down the flank, the frenetic Milos Kerkez tore forward relentlessly, whilst behind him, Illia Zabarnyi and Dean Huijsen remained almost unnervingly calm - mopping things up as if none of this mattered. In front of them, Lewis Cook quietly orchestrated the game, collecting from deep, gliding away from pressure, and picking passes with effortless calm. Around him, the combative presence of Tyler Adams disrupted everything. Andoni's team, despite trailing, began to take control.

At one point, Adams found space, surged forward with real authority and, brimming with confidence, shaped to shoot, only for the tenacious Harry Arter to bark “Leave it!” - and, astonishingly, he did. Arter then nipped in, stole the ball, and allowed himself the faintest, most satisfied smile as Adams stood momentarily perplexed.

The younger "Smudge" charged forward. The older one just waited, stepped across, and left a little something on him. That was enough. A tangle, elbows thrashed, tempers raged - both of them convinced the other had started it. Two yellow cards. One player arguing with himself.

And this is where the game shifted. Howe’s side had a plan, a rhythm, and was a team that knew itself - however Iraola’s changes brought chaos. Antoine Semenyo switched flanks. Justin Kluivert appeared centrally. Dango Ouattara arrived and immediately became an inconsistent problem. David Brooks followed to a roar, leaving a tired and confused defender on the floor.

At this point, the game stopped making sense. And that was the point. Players were popping up everywhere. Evanilson was holding play up neatly, when the ball broke once more to Semenyo - who struck again. 3–2.

Late on, Steve Cook - the hero from earlier — threw himself into one final act, where instinct overruled logic. He handled the ball after an Alex Scott shot was destined for the top corner. Red card. As he walked off, the crowd rose anyway. Nearby, Nathan Aké allowed himself the faintest smile - gosh, he is handsome.

With Howe’s team winning 3–2, there one more chance for the side of 16/17, which was created after Andrew Surman set up an attack with a majestic sideways pass, and with Marc Pugh rampaging down the left, he set Benik Afobe away through on goal to score the equaliser. Running onto the ball, he looked up, with the script written, and the crowd rising...

"Ooohh… Benik Afobe" - he missed the target.

Iraola, smarting from Howe's side's final foray, made a perplexing change which saw Lewis Cook slot in at right back, one which the Cherries faithful found bizarre, but with seconds left on the clock, the Bournemouth stalwart had the vision to play a diagonal pass into the path of Evanilson, who was through on goal, but whilst scoring would have been easier, he instead opted to earn a penalty, after Neto calamitously brought him down just as he was about to pull the trigger.

So, the final kick of the game fell to Boscombe's penalty guru Justin Kluivert - and with ice running through his veins, he calmly slotted home to send the Cherries faithful into a frenzy.

A six-goal thriller at Dean Court? That is SO Howe and Iraola.