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 Mark Palman
It may have been 25 years ago, but it seems like yesterday.
I boarded one of half a dozen coaches which made the trip from East London for the match. What may have been forgotten in all the build up to the match from Burnley's side is that if Orient had won the game, they would have made the promotion play-offs.
We reached the outskirts of Burnley at about 1pm and our convoy was stopped by the police. One officer came onto the coach to tell us that the whole of the town was blocked but they would try to get us through to the ground. We were also given a chilling warning that there could be trouble if the result went the wrong way for the home team, and our safety could not be guaranteed. This was in sharp contrast to my previous visit to Turf Moor which, coincidentally, was also a last game of the season affair. O's won a second division match 1-0, but I will always remember it for the mass standing ovation given to Orient midfielder Ralph Coates as he came out onto the pitch.
With those words ringing in our ears the coaches continued their journey with many of us wondering what we were riding into. Certainly the town was buzzing and from the moment we entered Burnley it was clear we were about to witness something special.
From the moment we entered the ground at about 2pm, the noise from the Burnley fans was deafening and didn't stop for breath until well after the match. Despite the best efforts of around 1,500 of us, I doubt whether any O's player realised that any of us were there.
We seemed to give you a distinct advantage by naming the very dodgy David Cass in goal. However, the way Burnley played that day, I don't think it would have mattered if we'd had Peter Shilton at his peak in goal.
With the warning from the local constabulary still foremost in our minds, each Burnley goal was greeted with deafening ovation from the home fans and an almost similarly loud sigh of relief from us. Alan Comfort's volleyed effort put us back in the match, but to be fair, only one team was ever going to win it, and I think the one goal defeat slightly flattered us. Without taking anything away from the gritty and determined Burnley performance, it did seem apparent that the O's players realised they were playing the Washington Generals role in a Harlem Globetrotters show, and turned in a very lacklustre performance.
We missed out on a shot at the promotion play-offs, but it was well worth it just to witness those scenes of joy and celebration at the end of the match. I will never forget the couple of thousand Burnley fans on the pitch who, in their moment of ecstasy, turned and walked towards the corner of the ground where we were situated and shook hands with us O's fans at the front of the enclosure. I reckon every Orient scarf was passed through the fence as souvenirs of the occasion.
A truly great day all round, made all the more surreal by the bizarre events being emanating from Plainmoor concerning a very late goal for the home side which saved them from relegation in the time added on for a dog running loose on the pitch.
I have watched senior football for man years but have still never been at any other match which has come close to the level of support which was given to Burnley that afternoon. I now live in Stevenage, and follow Stevenage. The atmosphere won't be a patch on what I saw and heard at Turf Moor on that afternoon 25 years ago though.
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