1974/75: Diary of a Season – Part 4
West Ham United v Burnley
‘Shame, Shame, Shame’
15th March 1975
Would dustmen be the ‘catalyst to spark the
revolution’? Glaswegians might have thought so as their rubbish piled up during the
nine weeks strike. In the end the troops marched in to clear away 70,000 tons of the
stuff. They could have taken my bloody car while they were at it. The damn thing broke
down on the motorway last night. We were heading for London. The recovery vehicle
didn’t get us back home until nearly 3am. Obviously, this is an omen but we
don’t heed it. By 9am we are at Manchester Piccadilly station ready to pick up a
London-bound express.
It’s a day of steady rain. The pitch is more suited to
military manoeuvres, but Burnley adapt brilliantly. Despite their exciting Cup run, West
Ham’s league form has gone down the toilet. For the first forty-five minutes, Burnley
play the Hammers off their mud heap. We’re helped by Billy Bonds’ early exit. To
cap it all, Doug Collins chips yet another brilliant goal three minutes before half time.
The crowd is compressed, swaying, urging, and hectoring as one, the sour smell of damp
clothing mingling with the tobacco. For those final three minutes, I feel as near to God
as I’ve ever been. But it’s a false blessing. Despite our interval lead, despite
looking good, it falls apart. Collins prompts some good second half openings, which
Fletcher and Hankin waste. But as against Liverpool, Burnley’s midfielders are
pressed back by the strength of their opposite numbers. This time Paddon and Robson
provide the beef, while Brooking and Jennings supply the guile. Two of the softest goals
possible are gifted to Keith Robson and Alan Taylor and suddenly it’s lost. It’s
always harder to stomach when hope has been encouraged. Snatching hope away is like
tearing off a plaster.
We stay over to catch up with some friends but the longer I drink,
the more morose I become. It’s not just the result. I manage to be very gracious
about that. My friends are Hammers. We agree it was a very fine game. No, I can sense
something else. I sense that something irrevocable has happened today. Paul Fletcher
reckoned that the Leeds game last season was the turning point. Even before I’m told
about his serious knee injury, I somehow know that today is the real turning point.
There’s only one way out of here and I have this horrible premonition that it’s
down.
Burnley v Arsenal
‘Philadelphia Freedom’
22nd March 1975
North Vietnam has invaded the South. So much for the Paris
Peace Treaty. It just rubs in the scale of the US defeat. Arsenal don’t beat us today
but they should have. Despite their lowly position (eighteenth), they rub in their
superiority, with a makeshift side, too. Bertie Mee decides to drop established stars like
Charlie George, John Radford, Peter Storey and Bob McNab. Instead, new talent is paraded
in the form of Wilf Rostron, Brian Hornsby and John Matthews. Rostron and Hornsby are a
revelation. Ball gets his usual greeting. It’s sung to the Dambusters’ tune.
‘We all hate Ball and Ball and Ball…(and on and on until) ‘we all f***ing
hate Ball.’ It’s ubiquitous, too, with ‘screws’ (aimed at the
segregating lines of policemen) and ‘Leeds’ providing other single syllable
targets. Anyway, just to shove it up us, Ball plays a blinder, superbly organising the
midfield linking the precocious Liam Brady with the even newer starlets. With Kidd
offering experience and strength up front, Burnley’s defence is torn to shreds. For
sure, this is no ‘boring, boring Arsenal.’
Noble plays as a striker in place of the injured Fletcher and he
puts us one up against the run of play. Unfortunately, Arsenal are stirred to greater
efforts. Rostron and Hornsby slither through Burnley’s rearguard like supercharged
eels. Quite justifiably, Rostron equalises shortly afterwards. Referee, Tom Reynolds then
waves aside Burnley’s penalty claims after Pat Rice fouls Keith Newton. It looks a
bad decision. And to make matters worse, Burnley’s prairie style defending is
punished once again when Hornsby nips in to beat Stevenson. Playing Rodaway in midfield
seems to be madness. Bertie Mee simply instructs his players to play around the trunk in
the number 9 shirt. After the break, Burnley go for goals. It’s just as well, for
despite the efforts of Waldron and Newton, the defence is not as one. Hankin vindicates
the policy with a saving header and once again there’s hope. But Hornsby quickly
knocks that one on the head and it takes an 85th minute penalty (also a dubious
decision) from James to salvage a point. Burnley slump to sixth. Even a European place is
looking wildly ambitious now.
Middlesbrough v Burnley
‘It May Be Winter Outside (But In My Heart It’s Spring)’
29th March 1975
It’s Easter Saturday and we have snowdrifts. The
electricity boards exploit the occasion, putting up their prices by 33%. But there’s
still spare dosh for nationalisation. The Government has decided to take over the Northern
Ireland shipbuilding firm, Harland and Wolff. Maybe they are hoping to ease the
‘troubles’ by reducing Ulster’s unemployment problem. While so many of the
men are stagnating or scrapping, the women are doing the supporting, scraping together
meagre housekeeping from part-time jobs.
I don’t make this one. It’s my first missed match since
my summer holiday. The weather isn’t the reason. I can always find someone with a
snowplough. Being a natural evangelist, I can always turn the hardiest of sceptics. The
donation of a vehicle usually guarantees eternal blessings. That’s why St. Chrysler
is the patron saint of crap cars and lift scroungers. No, the problem about getting to
this game is my cat. He has the stupidity to get himself stuck on the Chapel roof. Forget
what they say about firemen. They wouldn’t show. It needs a roofer to rescue him. By
that time, it’s too late. Just as well really. It’s a dog of a performance, a
0-2 defeat. Burnley are down to seventh.
A friend sends me a programme. Now Jack Charlton is giving Jimmy
programme space. Guess what Jimmy goes on about? Revie’s school coaching plan and the
offside law. Give Jimmy his due. He knows how to drive a point home.
Burnley v Derby County
‘Pick Up The Pieces’
31st March 1975
Iraq launches new assaults on the Kurds. Derby launches
devastating assaults on the Clarets. A chilly thaw has begun. Its causes the pitch to cut
up badly. Derby are much better equipped to handle this. With James bogged down, Burnley
hardly show. Dave Mackay has inherited much of Clough and Taylor’s side but fashioned
them in his own image. They trade in thuggery with violence. Burnley are the latest team
to be mugged. Rioch hammers them into an early lead and though Hankin levels, first Nish
and then Davies give Derby an unassailable half-time lead. James pulls one back from the
spot but this only provokes Hector into banging in a brace to give the Ram raiders an easy
victory. The gulf between these sides is huge. Derby look a good bet for the Championship.
Their back four of Rod Thomas, Peter Daniel, Colin Todd and David Nish are tough and
assured. Their midfield of Bruce Rioch, Steve Powell, Alan Hinton and Archie Gemmill are
muscular, mobile and menacing. Even without Franny Lee and Roy McFarland they look like a
million dollars. As for Burnley, they look like relegation contenders. Just a month ago we
were prepared to revive the1960 show. How time flies when you’re injuring yourself.
Carlisle United v Burnley
‘Fox On The Run’
1st April 1975
Bobby Fischer has flunked it so Anatoly Karpov is the new World
Chess Champion by default. It’s a disappointing conclusion. Fischer is a red-necked
hooligan. His speciality is behaving very badly indeed. This championship match promised
to be fun. Karpov is no fun, though. He is a slimy nerd with a reptilian disposition. He
has this unsettling stare with hair slicked down by neglect. He must have unspeakable
habits.
In fact, it’s a disappointing day altogether. It started
brightly, with soothing, swishy breezes as we drifted through the dales. However, by the
time we’d reached the Lakes there weren’t any lonely clouds and immediately upon
entering Carlisle it started to rain. I thought Coventry and Birmingham were bad but
Carlisle has to be the dreariest place in the galaxy. I am told that the centre pubs are
government-run. They are as hospitable as urinals.
Carlisle United are not very hospitable either. Nor can they afford
to be. They are bottom despite a rousing 3-0 home victory over second placed Everton on
Saturday. They tear into Burnley from the off and are soon two up through terrier-like
midfielder, Les O’Neill and sideburned striker Joe Laidlaw. Debutante ‘keeper,
Mickey Finn, has no chance with either shot. Two other young reserves make their debuts;
forward, Derrick Parker and centre back, Richard Dixey. Both are drafted in after
yesterday’s fiasco. There’s no obvious impact since Burnley hardly manage a kick
in the first half. Then suddenly out of the blue, Parker takes a swing at a loose ball. He
is at least thirty yards out when he makes contact and yet the ball arcs over reserve
goalkeeper Tom Clarke and into the Carlisle net.
Shortly after the break, James puts Burnley back on terms with an
expertly placed penalty kick. But any thought we have of a stirring victory is quickly
dashed. Carlisle are much the hungrier side and after the hugely impressive Ray Train has
scored with a scorcher, Joe Laidlaw settles it from the spot. Burnley are still seventh
but are fading alarmingly. The season cannot end too quickly now.
Everton v Burnley
‘Life Is A Minestrone’
4th April 1975
The NHS has closed half of their 50,000 pay beds. Barbara
Castle wants the lot closed in order to reduce hospital waiting lists. She’s still
striving for equality in sickness and health. It’s a losing battle.
Everton are back on top with a game in hand. Their Easter Saturday
wobbles at Carlisle were quickly settled on Monday thanks to a Martin Dobson screamer
against Coventry. Almost 46,000 crammed into Goodison on this Friday night. Adamson makes
just one change, bringing back Collins for Parker and pushing Noble up front with Hankin.
Collins has been troubled by injury since the West Ham game, missing the last two games.
Burnley perform quite well up to half time, holding Everton with
some comfort. They even manage to carve out a few openings themselves. But after the
break, it is quite different. Everton really apply the screw and Burnley are forced to
defend desperately. Waldron is superb. New boy Richard Dixey is so determined to hold onto
Bob Latchford, that he is prepared to grab any appendage. Small wonder that Bob finishes
the game seriously misshapen. However, Bob does inflict some damage when he puts the
Toffees into the lead with a crisp drive. It is his seventeenth league goal of the season.
They look certain to build on this but then up bobs Peter Noble to flash a header past Dai
Davies. Everton can’t believe it but for all their huff and puff, they are unable to
deny Burnley the point. That’s more like it.
Burnley v Spurs
‘Let Me Be The One’
12th April 1975
The Cambridge rapist is big news at present. Today Burnley have
their slice of national publicity as well. They and Spurs are on Match Of The Day.
It’s a good game, too, on a dismal, wet afternoon. Hankin is ruled out so Parker gets
another chance. Burnley are off to a flier. Noble combines well with Parker and his flying
header beats Jennings. Then ‘Uwe’ breaks free through the inside right channel
and thumps a drive past the Irishman. However, the 2-0 interval lead is quickly erased as
first John Duncan and then Steve Perryman blast in two fierce drives. Driven on by Ralph
Coates, Spurs are now firmly in charge. It looks odds on an away victory. Leighton James
has other ideas. His seventh penalty of the season is put away with total assurance.
Despite further defensive scares, Burnley cling on. Just. It keeps Burnley in seventh
position. Europe isn’t quite yet out of the question.
Manchester City v Burnley
‘Play Me Like You Play your Guitar’
19th April 1975
The destruction of Beirut begins as the Christian Phalangists
start slugging it out with the Palestinians. Caught between the Syrians, the Palestinians,
the Israelis and various warlords, Lebanon’s identity is crushed. Just like Cambodia.
Nevermind, The Human League will sing a nice song about it.
On this sunny, spring-like afternoon, Rodaway replaces Dixey, who
looked distinctly uncomfortable against John Duncan and Chris Jones last week.
Seventeen-year-old Derek Scott is drafted in for his first game at right back. He does
very well, too. However, once man-of-the-match, Colin Bell, lashes in a 30-yarder in the
26th minute, it’s City’s match. Tueart wraps it up in the second
half. Burnley aren’t disgraced but they’re second by some way. They have now
dropped back into ninth position. I’m prepared to forget Europe.
Burnley v Stoke City
‘Bye Bye Baby’
26th April 1975
Unemployment passes the 1 million mark. It’s the biggest
monthly rise since World War II. Keynesian economics no longer have currency. Spending
your way out of a slump just leads to ‘stagflation’, a stagnant economy and
runaway inflation. The Tories are banging on about monetarism, the supposed radical
alternative. But Labour will try it first, if only because the IMF forces their hand.
As expected, Derby win the Championship. There are just European
berths to play for now. But Burnley are even out of this. Hankin is back but is unable to
make his mark. Both teams fire blanks. It is a very anticlimactic ending to a switchback
season. Jimmy puts a brave face on things but he must be desperately disappointed. He
says; ‘circumstances combined against us and nothing came off from the moment West
Ham equalised..and then went on to win at Upton Park on March 15th. I sincerely
believe that was the turning point. If we had won that match – and the chance was
there – it could have been different. As it was, we fell out of the leading group,
and then the knee injury to Paul Fletcher, which needed an operation, and a less serious
but troublesome injury to Doug Collins hit our hopes hard. It was asking a lot of the team
to keep up the pace without such as Fletcher, Collins, Frank Casper, Mick Docherty and
more latterly, Ray Hankin and Keith Newton. It has been a good season for us…We are
not in a position like some clubs, where we can go into the transfer market to plug gaps
that crop up in our team. We have first to look to our reserve side..’
The problem is that the reserve side is no longer delivering
top-notch talent. Scott looks promising. Brennan has had a good season, Rodaway has had
some good games but only Flynn and Hankin have proved their pedigree. Burnley have been
over-reliant on James. Also, there are several players who are ageing, like Newton,
Collins, Noble and Thomson. In short, the squad has not enough depth. Jimmy Adamson moans
about the injuries but they’re not extraordinary. In fact, compared to many clubs,
he’s got off quite lightly. The sale of Nulty was a huge error. Let’s hope he
strengthens the side before next season. He surely can’t afford to sell. Like Jimmy
Adamson I try to be sanguine but it just gets harder and harder.
1974 / 75: A Musical postscript
Musically, this was an abysmal season. With the exception of
Cockney Rebel, and possibly Supertramp, I cannot recall one worthwhile single. The pop
songs are just reference points, half-heard admidst the din of pub chatter. This was the
year I quit Radio 1. That is, until Peel showcased a clutch of vibrant New Wave and Punk
bands a year or so later.
I suppose there’s more to popular music than sounds, though. I
recall a Bay City Roller fan describing why that spotty outfit once meant so much to her.
She said that it was to do with female comradeship and power. The tartan scarves and
badges provided a common identity, as did their shared fantasies, Shang-A-Lang,
dancing in lines at the school disco and their scrapbooks. The girls’ overriding
concerns seemed to be with themselves. Mind you; let’s be clear about one thing, the
Rollers were crap.
Tim
Quelch
July 2000
