There has been a good deal of interest in previous magazine
issues, in selection of the best and worst Clarets teams of all time, but no real
indication of individual favourites, and why. Brian Miller at the recent dinner to
celebrate (sic) the tenth anniversary of The Orient Game,
adjudicated the Championship team in its entirety (including himself), as the best and
also his favourite eleven of all time. Many would say the eleven fielded against Orient on
that fateful day, by definition, the worst. My vote for worst was nearly swayed by the
gutless wonders who paraded as a Burnley team in the first half at Wycombe
in 1995-96.
Its all a matter of opinion, and I shall add my own favourite
squad to the debate, shortly to depart for a lengthy tour of Mars. Yes, I realise that
games against the likes of Red Canal Belgrade are likely to provide Vauxhall Conference
opposition at best, but some of my lads are in decline. In some cases terminal! I have
however added a final game at Ewood against Uncle Jack's bimbos as an end of tour party,
with the usual half time tripe and onions washed down with gallons of chilled menthol
flavoured Tizer. This last match has already been likened to a France v England game
(round about the time of the Battle of Waterloo).
The quality of this squad of players is akin to man's first
towering act of genius, since he first set foot in Burnley, after the primeval sludge had
slowly subsided from the gents urinals at the Beehole end. There are those who would make
similar claims for bareback synchronised swimming, or who would espouse the cause of
knitting patterns or even the invention of the coconut sweeties in a packet of liquorice
allsorts. Poppycock, I shall brook no contradiction. Here then is the squad. Famous names,
nay infamous ones there are aplenty, together with others considered mere pimply chorus
girls to the silken limbed gladiators of the green sward that is t'Turf. These are my
faves and I make no apology for their presence, having amused, pleased, charmed or just
plain made me laugh through all these Claret tinted years.
CAPTAIN
Sir James McIlroy
Without a moment's hesitation, I nominate this
great and saintly man as skipper. Known in the late fifties and early sixties for his
missionary work amongst the deprived illiterates of Tottenham and Manchester United.
Emeritus professor of sublime passes at the University of Turf Moor, and recently a
connoisseur of rudimentary English at the Lancashire Evening Telegraph. Confess I blubbed
shamelessly when this icon moved to Stoke at the height of the either he goes or I go
Adamson controversy. An all round good egg.
GOALKEEPERS
Private Harry Thomson
Legend has it that a midweek lunchtime weather
forecast some thirty years ago predicted a snow storm for that same day. Ever on the
lookout to escape training in some way, Harry repaired to the Shooters Arms up in the
hills, and was subsequently snowed in for two days. Regardless of fine and censure for
this piece of initiative, plenty of style marks for this star man. Also particularly
enjoyed the fine left hook in the brawl following the Napoli away
Fairs Cup game.
Sergeant Adam Blacklaw
Schmeichel eat your heart out! Any faint of heart
forward sprinting towards the Burnley goal could be likened to the great white hunter
facing a charging rhino. Not to be recommended on health grounds. The only man to keep
goal seated in an armchair whilst dining from a tray of raw haggis. Eventually forced to
retire when he received a painful blow to his castors.
Batman Billy O'Rourke
Only included him because he was the keeper when I
took the good lady wife to her one and only Burnley game in my company. Lost 7-0 at QPR,
and was forced to relive same on Match of the Day. Found out subsequently that at 5 feet
nothing, he had only been included in the team because Bob Lord could save on travel fares
by hiding him in the Team kitbag.
DEFENDERS
Corporal 'Gina' Eyres
Finds time between cookery lessons on the moving
television to play on the whole of the left hand side of the present Burnley team.
Particularly enjoyed his 29 goal season, where the ball flew into the net from all angles
and distances. A frequent visitor to the Barrowford Senior Citizens Annual Beetle Drive,
he therefore fitted in perfectly at the APFSCIL dinner dance with his Nogan stories. One
of my faves despite being a Scouser, but isn't being a Norwich FC Director a conflict of
interest?
Craftsman Colin Blant
A true craftsman in word and deed. Could
re-arrange the limbs of a First Division striker to order. A cult hero, but not everyone's
cup of Vimto. Made innumerable first team appearances when Burnley were good and was
utterly consistent in his attentions to opposing forwards in all of them.
Bombardier Colin Waldron
Confess I blubbed shamelessly (again) when
'Geordie' Macdonald waltzed round CW to insert the final nail in our FA Cup final dreams
in the semi at Hillsborough. Until then CW had been the master of the professional foul.
Does however get brownie points for telling Bill Shankly to get stuffed when he chose
Burnley instead of Liverpool. Shanks' inevitable response? You were no good anyway.
Sergeant Major Brian Miller
A noble and historic edifice. Vast sums of money
should be spent on essential repairs, for preservation as a national treasure. Still a
frightening centre half, goodness knows what forwards of the 60's thought of him. Brownie
Points for the dignity he showed leading up to and during the Orient Game.
Lance Corporal Billy Aird
Obviously don't remember this guy, but the old man
used to insist that whenever BA's name appeared on the teamsheet opposite the revered Sir
Stan Mathews, said wing wizard would develop a mysterious pre-kick off injury. Best
described as 'uncompromising' or the Burnley equivalent of Skinner Normanton.
Batman Derek Scott
Makes the side chiefly on the back of a tremendous
winning goal he scored at Everton, many years ago. Tremendous sports that the Scousers are
of course, the stand supporters (sic) threw cushions on to the field in disgust. Still got
relegated though, despite the win.
MIDFIELD
Midshipman Ralph Coates
One of the great days at t' Turf occurred when the
legendary, unbeaten Don Revie Leeds side arrived to subsequently be thrashed 5-1. With
hair stretched like trip wires across his bald pate, Ralphie baby engineered one of our
best ever wins. Once of course all Lancashire Fretwork champion, and now an International
Tenor of some renown.
Admiral Jimmy Adamson
Great player, but still believe major part in the
great Jimmy Mac departure to Stoke. The hermit of Worsthorne also I believe responsible
for the infamous 'Burnley are the team of the 70's' remark. Will
Waddle make a similar response re the Millennium?
Wing Commander Leighton James
As adept at scoring at the Angels Nite Spot as on
the wing. Full back's nightmare jinking down either wing, whilst singing Cwm Rhondda in
that curious language akin to aboriginal spoken backwards whilst suffering from an attack
of piles. Apt appearance in the Orient game gave him I believe the unique record of having
played for a team when leading the old first division, and also for a team at the very
bottom of the fourth.
Chief Engineer John Deary
Much has been written re this man's departure to
Rochdale, now that he qualifies for the winter heating allowance from the Ink Monitor at
Number 10. Assume that Granny Mullen was correct when she ditched the old boy, but miss
the effort, steel and goals produced mainly when Burnley were crap. Could sell his double
glazing on tour to help finance the rocket fuel.
FORWARDS
Airman Billy Hamilton
In chiefly on the strength of two memorable cup
goals at White Hart Lane, on route to two brilliant cup runs and relegation in the same
season. Sort of like Brian Robson's Middlesboro. Great trier and good club man.
Andy 'Bomber' Lochead
The nickname actually belonged to Gordon Harris,
but is appropriate here as the memory is of the aerial bombardment of poor Lausanne in the Fairs Cup thrashing. Great exhibition of heading in
a glorious European night for Burnley, which of course is something Uncle Jack's bimbo's
have yet to appreciate. Last heard of as personal piano stool attendant to Rab C Nesbitt.
George 'Spitfire' Beel
His name has of course appeared in many Clarets
programmes over the decades as the club top scorer, and he therefore qualifies for
inclusion in the squad. Unlikely to play for obvious reasons, but could be on the bench,
probably as a back rest. More than useful first change trombonist in his day, and was
never seen without a jar of piccalilli in his back pocket.
Commander Martin Dobson
Remember when Chelsea last won the Cup without the
foreign legion? Well, the man who nearly sank them pre-Final that year at Stamford Bridge
was Dobbo with two fine goals. As the sixties limped listlessly to their close, his laid
back style seemed to epitomise all that was good and bad from that time, including the
daft haircut. Too few England caps.
So there you have it. As I have written thrice as much as
intended, am now bored and need a beer. I have missed some other purveyors of great joy,
the evergreen Pointer, piscine Connolly, youthful Steven, follically challenged Noble, cool Davis and the elegant
Angus/Elder combination. Add in Paul Fletcher for breaking Tommy Smith's nose, and you
have a fairly reputable subs bench.
Next edition, a compilation of hamburgers and Bovril around
Division 2.
Barry
Heagin
July-August 1997
