As
we approach our twenty-fifth anniversary let us congratulate Danny West for setting us on
our way. In setting up that very first group trip to Turf Moor on Saturday 28th
February 1976, Danny almost had to indemnify British Rail against the total loss of the
train. Fortunately for us, he had total confidence in his fellow travellers. Well done,
Danny! Clearly, Danny relaxes by playing Russian roulette.
Twenty-five years ago, it was the ‘Age of the Train’. Now it is
the train which takes an age. But one thing is infinitely better now. That is the wider
availability of information about our club. After I left the North for the West Country in
the late seventies, I had to rely on the few scraps the national media would provide (I
was too inept or unknowing to put in a postal order for the Evening Star). So, whenever I
managed to get to a game, I would seize upon anyone in Claret and Blue with Transylvanian
frenzy, sucking them dry of any information – fact, rumour or blatant lie, it
didn’t matter. Then, late in the eighties, I discovered Club Call, which was more of
the same, except it cost a bomb. Ceefax was a cheaper option but was shorter on
tittle-tattle. Both kept marriage guidance counsellors very busy indeed.
After my wife disconnected the phone and buried the TV remote control, I
moved onto fanzines: silly, shambolic and sometimes downright libellous, the early
editions were usually good fun, even if they often said more about our surreal fans than
our then languishing team. Not that I minded. Having missed the pre-match banter almost as
much as the games, the fanzines helped restore a lost connection. However, the freshness
faded quickly a bit like punk.
Desperation strips away your quality control. As proof of that I have
stacks of Burnley videos with each player accompanied by his personal doppelganger.
‘Rocket’ Ron had two. I guess the theory was, that if Ron was too slow to
convert a Neil Grewcock cross, one of his doppelgangers might spare his blushes.
Now I have a scoreline pager, which will always interrupt the most
pressing work commitment and finally I have learnt to exploit the internet thanks to the
efforts of our own excellent webmeister. Well done Firmo! As I listened to second half
commentary of Burnley’s defeat at Crewe, I realised I am now better informed than at
any time when I lived in the North – not only by the media, but also by the club and
supporters. Of course, Bob Lord kept club affairs close to his chest. He was cautious with
the press and actually forbade the formation of an official supporters' club. I wonder how
he would have coped now. He might have surprised us, though.
I guess it won’t be long before we can watch each Burnley game on TV
or computer. Come 2010, our front rooms could be hosting hologram representations of first
team matches. Think what that could mean. Dressed in our replica shirts and carpet
slippers, we, too, could contest high crosses in a heaving goalmouth urged on by roaring
supporters in ‘sensaround’. What’s more, neither the players nor the crowd
would know that we were there (thank Christ!). Ten years from now, I could become the
sharpest shooter on a commode. It makes me stiff with expectation. But for now let us not
forget the service our lo-tech magazine has provided. Thanks should go to all who’ve
helped spread the word globally over the last twenty years or so – to all who have
penned the match reports and articles. Very well done everyone!
