Our day out with the London Clarets
By Hazel Potter, London Gas and the 2nd of May
I was fairly drunk when I offered to write about the latest
London Gas day out with our Burnley counterparts. But then, that won't surprise you when I
mention that it was at some point on the train journey home from Bristol.
I should, of course, have known better. Even then, the
memories of the morning of the same day were pretty hazy in an alcoholic kind of a way and
by the next day it was a case of checking the Sunday papers to remind myself that we'd
lost 4-3. By rights, no one should ever have remembered that I'd volunteered to do
anything, but the Burnley boys have devilishly good memories in that respect (no doubt
acquired after years of practice). So, after a few hypnosis sessions to try and recall
what actually happened on January 9th, I've finally managed to get a few
memories down on paper. Don't expect a match report - it's too long ago and the memories
of David Lee giving away goal after goal are a little painful. Put it this way, if Lee's
what the Premiership has to offer, then I reckon we're better off in the Nationwide. What
a shame he wasn't a City fan as a child…*
It should be said from the outset that, even by the standards
set in the past by London Clarets, this was a classic day. A combination of champagne,
lettuce, wine, beer and some football for good measure made sure of that. Some of this
came courtesy of a fiftieth birthday celebration, albeit a year late, which the rather
meagre London Gas contingent were invited to join. Having managed to keep his actual
fiftieth a secret, Michael Benyon had been 'outed' by London Clarets as over halfway to
becoming a centenarian and, having missed their chance the previous year, the boys and
girls made up for it in '99. First of all there were the presents on the train. Benny's
face, initially excited by the carefully wrapped parcels, became steadily more
disappointed as first lettuce, then cherry tomatoes and then cucumber (all the way from
the Sparrowhawk Hotel in Burnley) were unwrapped. Salad, it seems, is Benny's Room 101.
Still, together with some ham, champers and red wine it made a nice breakfast for the rest
of us though I'm not sure that lettuce is particularly useful in soaking up large
quantities of alcohol!
Once off the train there was a split in the ranks. Woody, as
ever, led the traditionalists who admirably insist on walking between each pub on the
intricately planned crawl while I ushered the lazier members of the group onto a handy
bus! Needless to say, Woody's group still got to the pub first though we did make it there
before a third contingent, which managed to get lost even before it got out of the station
approach, led by John Pepper. To be fair, the last group did pretty well to make it at all
as they'd missed all directions to the pub, by foot or bus, having been accosted in the
station by a non-London Claret with a reputation for nattering away during valuable
drinking time.
After a swift stop at the first pub, Woody had arranged a
serious uphill walk to The Highbury Vaults. Anyone not familiar with Bristol should try to
imagine an exceedingly steep hill (though not quite up to Lincoln standards) with a very
good pub at the top and a few reasonable hostelries en route to the bottom. When we were
young we sensibly used to start off at the top and work our way down so that you reached
the bottom quite mildly pissed. Not so on Jan 9th. Instead it was uphill and
once again, we wimped out as I led the less hardy amongst us to a nearby taxi rank. This
time we just about beat the walkers, although it should be said that the Highbury would
have been worth it even if we had taken the energetic option. Firmo generously took care
of the first round in the pub, courtesy of his winnings in 1998's 'Death Pool' (with a
record number of correct 'predictions' I'm told). The Death Pool seems to have become part
of London Clarets folklore, so much so, that I continually find myself wondering who's
taken the points each time a celebrity pops off (and that's a lot of wondering this year -
I reckon Firmo's record could be in danger). But getting back to the beer, all
contributions were gratefully received, especially as the Highbury sells excellent Smiles
which is always welcome to Bristolians exiled from 'God's Own Country'…In fact, even
the Burnley boys decided that the beer was so good an extra pint was called for!
I'm reliably informed that the pub crawl managed to visit a
number of other worthy hostelries but at this point the Gas contingent left for our
traditional pre-match beer at The Foresters, a pub which is excellent on atmosphere but
doesn't have the necessary CAMRA approval for London Clarets!
Apart from the football, the game was remarkable to me for
one very special reason. At half time I was on my way to one of the excellent pasty stands
at the Mem when I heard a birthday greeting to 'Benny' from the one and only Albert
Cunliffe. To say I stopped in my tracks is an understatement. As far as I know, I've never
been in the presence of the legendary Albert Cunliffe before, so even though I didn't
actually see him at the Memorial Ground (sorry Stadium - this renaming lark even
confuses us Gasheads), just knowing that he was there through his message was thrilling.
After the game there was, not surprisingly, more beer on
offer. After a swift pint in the bar at the ground we made our way to the smallest pub in
Bristol which just about managed to accommodate everyone on the trip before the return
journey and, you guessed it, a couple (sic.) more beers. In between the alcohol
consumption we were also treated to a rendition of 'The Fish Song' by Firmo & co.,
which kept returning to my addled brain to haunt me on numerous occasions over the next
week or so. In fact, even as I write 'Give me Haddock…' keeps springing to mind. It
won't come as a huge shock that we managed yet another pub when we got back to Paddington
nor, that by the time we finally made our way back to Hackney, we were a tad sozzled…
Astonishingly (well, for me at least), this trip took place
in January and somehow it's now May. Four months seemed to have passed by in a flash and
needless to say there have been some classic Gas trips in between (results wise 6-0 at
Reading & 4-1 at Stoke spring to mind, though for good beer and pubs Lincoln wins
out). Nothing, however, is ever quite like a trip with London Clarets and I'm very, very
relived that, despite both Rovers and Burnley flirting with the relegation dogfight, we
both ended up safe. In fact, amazingly, we didn't only finish safe, but in the giddy
heights of 13th spot, two place above Burnley. And after celebrating 1998/99
passing in a haze of mid-table obscurity, not to mention a few beers to mark the passing
of Blackburn back into the Nationwide, we can look forward to next season's trip to
Burnley.
* Lee took a 75% pay cut to come to Rovers, the club he
supported as a boy, after he persuaded Chelsea to buy out his contract. He'd already
endeared himself to Gasheads earlier in the season after Chelsea sent him on loan,
together with Paul Hughes, to Ashton Gate. After only a few hours he walked out, taking
Hughes with him, claiming that it was 'an amateur set-up' which upset their fans (who
continually claim that they are a huge club) immensely. Unfortunately, this comment was
about the best thing we saw from Lee all season and he's off to strut his ineffective
stuff elsewhere…
Hazel Potter
April-May 1999
Tim
Quelch, Firmo and Hego were
there too - plus photos from the day
