The Director: Ray Griffiths 1931 - 2009

Whilst Coventry City have yet another cash injection from their two latest associate directors, (although it is noticeable at the moment that their greater potential has seen no great success on the field), one does wonder where Burnley FC would be, or where it would be heading, without directors like Ray Griffiths. His generosity to the club is huge, though he would be the first to say he is not the only director putting considerable sums into the club.

He was born in 1931 at Bank Hall. Since then he has been a Bacup man all his life, his boyhood spent in a small terraced house. Even at the pinnacle of his Target Express career in the distribution business, with nationwide depots, employees running into thousands, company jet, European operations, he has never left his hometown or betrayed his roots.

That, plus the fact that you would never use the word (pardon my language), 'bullshitter' to describe him, tells you much of what you need to know about him. For those who don't know, to describe Bacup as 'the back of beyond' is almost flattering. If Jimmy Greaves once likened Burnley to Brigadoon, one wonders how he would have described Bacup. Yet Ray has never wished to leave.

Ray's father was a plumber at the Irwell Springs Factory, a musician who played in a three piece band and a Claret. He was no mean footballer himself being on Bradford City's books. The games he went to at Turf Moor featured the legends, Halley, Boyle and Watson.

Ray's first real football experience was an Irwell Springs coach trip to the 1946/47 Cup Final. He left Grammar School at 16 and aimed to be an accountant. For varying reasons, that never happened. His National Service in the army was cut short when he was deemed to have a spinal problem. Whatever it was, it cured itself.

Ask him what his earliest images of football are (he played a bit himself) and he'll talk about leather balls that were so heavy they knocked you out if you headed them, and muddy pitches. Then at Turf Moor there was Arthur Woodruff who always vigorously shook his head after he had headed the ball, presumably because he'd gone dizzy, and Harold Mather who called for a pint on the way to the match.

The highlight for two seasons was the annual meeting between hard man winger Billy Elliott and PNE full back Willie Cunningham, the immovable versus the indestructible. It is a misconception that the first ever winger to kick full backs was Mike Summerbee. It was actually Billy Elliott at Burnley.

Then there was the never to be forgotten occasion when centre half, iron-man Alan Brown upended Stan Mortensen simply by flicking him over his head. Mortensen went strangely quiet after that. Reg Attwell was an immaculate passer of the ball he remembers, Harry Potts wonderful at falling over, Jimmy McIlroy the consummate gentleman, cultured and gracious. These are the memories that never fade.

Another game that has never faded is Burnley versus Sheffield Wednesday on Boxing Day 1961. Ray remembers it was the day his daughter was born, Burnley won, John Connelly scored twice, and it was John Connelly's wife Sandra in the next bed in the maternity hospital. It's a game I too remember for different reasons. It was a game when Tony Kay upended Jimmy Mac, he needed treatment, and Kay infuriated the crowd by casually doing keepie uppies in the centre circle. I hurled abuse at him and my father clipped me over the ear. Funny the things we remember after all these years.

It is no secret that Ray has made a bob or two, but as in most self-made cases, he has grafted for it all his life. The early years of his CV centre around the warehouse and distribution sides of the businesses where he worked. But for three years, having left one employer on a point of principle, ready to do anything, he worked in a factory making dish cloths. One employer questioned his travel expenses. Ray had dared to have a room with a bath, and had steak for dinner. Bugger this thought Ray and left.

Eventually, working for TNT, a change of position within the company that was thrust upon him without consultation prompted him to think it was time to go it alone. At TNT he had two regular tickets for Turf Moor.

West Coast Parcels became Target Express, and the rest as they say, is history. He began with a business partner with whom he shared their one car, three vans, premises in Warrington, but for six months no customers. He relied on his wife's earnings to see him through. That was 1982. Sixteen years later in 1998 the management buyout took over 40 depots, 3000 employees, a turnover of £70m and international business all over Europe.

At some point in our meeting I had remarked to Ray that being called a Property Developer these days could cover a multitude of sins of the dodgy geezer variety. "Well I'm still in property," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I still own all the depots."

"Vehicles, all Mercedes, the best available, were all owned by the drivers. Being owner/drivers made them work harder and take more care," he said with another twinkle.

For many years Burnley Football Club did not figure greatly in his timetable. The TNT tickets had gone. It was only about five years ago that the interest was really rekindled. He was approached by CE Dave Edmundson with a view to becoming a director having become a regular in the James Hargreaves area and sponsored various things; he met with Barry Kilby and agreed. He bought a box for his family, buys a box on other occasions to give as a prize at various events, and since joining the board has put in large amounts of money to keep the club afloat.

Where does the cash go is the constant question? If fans see it going down a black hole, then at the bottom of that hole the answer is simple, says Ray. Largely it is players' wages. And the irony now is that with a successful team, there are win bonuses to factor into the equation. The club is already over budget on player salaries plus Steve Cotterill was given a higher salary with his new contract. Already this year three directors have put a quarter of a million each in, another two, one of them being Ray, have put half a million in, and two new directors have each put half a million in. And what does this do? It doesn't buy new players; it simply keeps the club afloat and makes up budget deficits. It was Ray and Barry Kilby who funded the youth team trip to Germany in the summer at a cost of £17k.

Is there an answer?

"You could put three pounds on the admission price, and that would immediately clear the weekly loss and concession prices are too low. But how do you do this in Burnley, a dieing town?

"Getting to the Premiership would revitalise the club, it would attract new investors and it would retain Steve Cotterill. But it's all luck. A goal line clearance, a penalty… we all remember Hedman and those last minute saves he made against Coventry three years ago. We want at least the play-offs this year. Top two I can't see it. I worry about the size of the squad.

"And the black hole… anyone with an understanding of balance sheets would know it is not a black hole and that it can all be accounted for. On a match day for example there are the police to pay for, stewards, security, gatemen, referee, linesmen, ticket printing, advertising, telephone, ticket office salaries, St. John's, computer costs.

At this point Ray took out the 12 page accounts document for July/August. All directors receive a copy. The brief page one summary specified an overspend on players, "a huge spend on kit issues", the slow start in commercial and catering income, higher than budget match costs because of the poor Carling Cup match revenue, and a downturn in lottery income. A stark six-word summary of the twelve pages would simply say, total costs up, total income down. Later at home, I was able to look through it carefully. Suffice it to say that if fans saw the figures in front of them, those that grumble would certainly see exactly where the money goes and why the club simply cannot stake £5m or so on a January gamble on signings. In the summer Steve Cotterill asked for £1m to buy a particular player and told the directors he'd make him into a £3m player in three years. The July/August accounts show all too clearly that the money simply wasn't there.

One item stood out. Players' wages budgeted £699,142, actual £807,965. And the shortfall doesn't come from matchday receipts.

I asked about the greatest frustration Ray feels.

"The biggest frustration is fans not being better informed and more conscious of the constraints. But all they have to go on is what is fed to them by the press. If only they knew. The lowest point I ever felt was the Orient game. I was there. I thought we were finished and would end up playing Bacup Borough. I just wish the fans knew what it costs to run this club and were more aware."

The early winter sun was shining when I left, bathing the hills in soft light, and the views from Ray's home are stunning. I drove away thinking that some fans think that directors exist simply to fork out money without realising just how much they do actually provide at Burnley.

"But I won't be doing this forever," Ray had said.

The situation is simple at Turf Moor. Income at this moment does not cover costs, and without the Ray Griffiths of this world, it is unlikely that this club would be playing Championship (today Premiership) football.



Ray passed away on Wednesday July 15^th, 2009. One of his last acts for the club was to inject another cash sum into the ailing April finances.

As ever the credit for promotion at Wembley went to players and management but in truth without Ray Griffiths and others like him, there might have been no Wembley.

I remember him as a straightforward, open, honest man who was totally unspoiled by the trappings of wealth and the success of his business ventures. To the very end he was true to his Bacup roots and he was truly 'the bloke next door' in his attitude and manner with anyone he met. He had no time for fools, dishonesty, frauds or shallowness. If something needed saying, he would say it.

His generosity was widely known. For me personally he sponsored the first volume of No Nay Never and supported two book launch dinners. There were many other acts of support for many other people. There was a time at the club when struggles on the field meant that supporter pique was aimed at directors for not putting their hands in their pockets. A small minority of supporters knew that indeed this was exactly what they did. Ray was a director who did find money for the club, but it was not in his nature to make it widely known or to shout it from the rooftops and seek publicity. His name seldom, if ever, appeared in the newspapers.

Sadly he did not get to Wembley in person to see the wonderful day and the results of his support. He was in hospital.

Ray Griffiths served the club well and asked for nothing in return. For that all of us are hugely grateful.