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Ian Moore - scored the second past hapless goalkeeper Baxter
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I like to think a little of his magic might rub off on mine. When I am done in by a Darling pre-budget report or Gordon Brown's gloomy pronouncements I read a couple of pages.
The Jim White piece in the Telegraph on December 8th wasn't so much an interview but more an unabashed fan's tribute. I keep a file of articles I have enjoyed reading and I think might come in useful one day. This was one of them. Of course Burnley got a mention. Hall has a soft spot for us; for Bob and Hilda Lord, the latter whom he once sat behind at a Burnley game nearly 50 years ago and he said she wore a hat that resembled an upturned chamber pot decorated with flora. For those not old enough to know what such a pot is, it is a pot with a handle that in the olden days we used to put under the bed in case we were taken short at night and the loo was outdoors, or if you lived in a grand country house, the loo was a mile down the corridor. My granny called these pots a gazunder. "Why granny," I asked one day when I was about 4. "Because it gazunder the bed," she replied. Some things you never forget.
Hall loved the team that Harry Potts took to the title, Jimmy Mac, Ray Pointer, Jimmy Adamson et al. He loved Steve Kindon and penned the description Runaway Wardrobe. He has always imagined ever since that Kindon would like to deck him as a thank you.
"When I first began there were two engineers setting up everything for you, all you needed to do was talk into the microphone, " he says of his Saturday afternoon jaunts. "Now it's DIY. You have to clamber to Row Z in the stratosphere, hauling three tons of kit behind you like a pack mule. I was at Turf Moor the other day and I had to climb so high I was in need of oxygen. Looking out over the grey roofs of Burnley I could scarcely observe the football. But I was so high I could see the Statue of Liberty.
"The weather was appalling, the rain was borne on a terrible west wind, down below me appeared to be a shoal of silver sardines, swishing about in the gale. A thought occurred that I should have been at home in my slippers filling my pipe. But why was I there - because Burnley played pure football."
Several years ago I needed to contact him to obtain permission to use a couple of Burnley items he had included in his book. I wrote to him via the BBC. Months went by and there was no response. Then, one day, the phone rang and a voice boomed "STUART HERE." I was nonplussed to say the least as I only knew two Stuarts. One lived right next door and the other was dead. I was reasonably sure it wasn't him.
"Sorry… who," I asked in that gormless way we all do when we have no idea who is on the other end of a phone, or it's somebody cold calling from India. "Pardon… who?"
"Hall, Stuart Hall, you wrote to the BBC. Sorry it's taken so long but I've been away." He gave instant permission to use the two pieces I wanted, spoke fondly of Harry Potts and Burnley, and not only that, he agreed to search through his files for anything else he might have about Burnley. A couple of weeks later a letter arrived and with it a handwritten copy of a radio report that wasn't in his book. Seeing the Telegraph I dug out the piece he sent me about the game against Sheffield United on December 6, 2003. This and two more of his pieces are in No Nay Never Vol One. For this game Warnock had unearthed a new keeper without ever seeing him play. The poor wretch did not stay at Sheffield long.
Marooned as I am, in the stratosphere of Burnley's stand, the coldest, freeziest Press area in the whole wide world, I gaze at the East Lancashire steppes, the icy blast congealing my blue lips, tonsils encased in frost. Why do football clubs in myopic policy embalm the Press a million miles from the action? I now carry World War 11 submarine binoculars merely to decipher the numbers on players' backs. The best seats twenty rows from the pitch are where the hacks should sit. They are friends, the mouthpiece of the club - so there!!!
The match: Apart from Michael Brown's sending off on the hour, it's the crestfallen story of Lee Baxter, Sheffield's debutante goalkeeper. He HAS played before - at Blackburn Rovers and IKEA Sweden. Signed on the strength of a video, Sheffield had never seen him play. He endured a nightmare of King Lear proportions. "Blow wind and cataract. I fear I am not in sound mind". His first bloomer was on 17 minutes, Robbie Blake's shot, Baxter fumbled the ball like a card sharp palming an ace, into the back of the net. Sheffield's outplayers were stunned. A duff keeper - must attack. They did like dingbats. Montgomery equalised. Mike Whitlow's vicious back header put Sheffield 2 - 1 up. But hey up - it's Baxter time - Ian Moore popped a goal near post - Baxter an onlooker - bemused. 44 minutes - a Burnley penalty. I heard Baxter's knees knocking. Blake's shot fizzed past him with the speed of P squared Omega T.
Baxter did not appear for the second half. Maybe he'll be decked in pantaloons and baubles to star as a Pierrot in some end of pier show. Fettis was the sub keeper. Shorn of mirth, the second half petered out. What a debut, what a day. Warmed by vituperation poured, by the fans, on Mr Ternent and Mr Warnock; sworn enemies with a deal of previous. Stanley can smile - he won. I now search for a large St Bernard with a flagon of tincture. Oh for the days when I used to peer over Mrs Bob Lord's chamber pot hat decorated with flora, on Miller, Adamson, McIlroy, Pilkington and Co. Glorious heady days of the beautiful game with Harry Potts and his ancient mackintosh - bountiful, exhilarating - and warm.
Stuart Hall is 80 this month, still climbing into commentary boxes, still ascending endless flights of stairs that would tax someone half his age, still enduring cold and rain and sleet. His love of the game is still as great as it was 50 years ago. He has talked to and traded stories with every top manager and player in the game for decades. After every home game we drive home to Leeds with Sports report in the background. When Hall comes on I turn up the sound. If Hall comes on and reports on Burnley (and we have won) it is the icing on the cake.
Jim White thinks that the secret of his longevity is his humour and sense of fun. In India there are gurus who claim that a good chuckle is a life-enhancing act, and that those who laugh loudest do indeed laugh longest. Hall might just be the living proof of that.
Another piece that caught my eye was in both the Sun and the Lancashire Telegraph. This was the news that Prince Charles had pledged his support for Burnley FC; that Turf Moor could be set for a visit from his Royal royalness and that he hoped to attend a match. The Prince told director John Sullivan that he followed the club's progress, and should his royal diary allow would be fitting in a trip to the Turf.
The Prince has shown an interest in the town for a number of years since 2005, has met Council bosses, and has visited Prince's Trust projects. John Sullivan's support for the Duke of Edinburgh Awards earned him a private reception with Prince Charles at which he said he was delighted with the club's community work, that he followed the club's matches with interest and sent his congratulations to the team and the fans.
Councillor Julie Cooper, Labour leader on Burnley Council and a season ticket holder said she hoped if he came he would sit next to her. Although if of course he hasn't got 2000 points he won't be able to come at all. There is a tradition of Royal firsts where Burnley FC is concerned. The nickname 'Royalites' was adopted when Turf Moor became one of the first League grounds to be visited by a member of the Royal Family when Prince Albert came to open The Victoria Hospital. The Burnley - Liverpool Cup Final of 1914 was the first to be attended by a reigning monarch. And if Councillor Cooper has her wish granted she will be the first Labour leader to sit next an heir to the throne at Turf Moor. Fingers crossed. The last really big name to visit Turf Moor was Prime Minister Edward Heath in the seventies, unless you count Chesney of Coronation Street in more recent times or Jarvis the dustbinman from Emmerdale. Perhaps if Charles does come we can change Royalites to The Charleyites. Better still if he chucked a few bob in, we could rename the stadium The Turf Moor by Royal Appointment Prince of Wales Duchy of Cornwall Duke of Rothesay Highgrove Arena. Now that does sound rather classy. His full name is Charles, Philip, Arthur, George, which would possibly just fit on the back of a souvenir shirt. And those with a historical curiosity could google House of Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderberg-Glucksburg which no way would fit on a shirt but sounds like it could make a good back four. Let us just hope that unruly, uncouth elements among the crowd do not chant One Charlie Windsor, there's only one Charlie Windsor… to spoil things if he comes.
Three other pieces caught the eye. Two were short, one of them being that Andre Bikey is the recipient of a new Rolex watch valued at £10k thanks to the generosity of Samuel Eto'o who bought them for each of his Cameroon team-mates to celebrate their World Cup Final place. I wish I had friends like that. Second was the article revealing that Chris McCann's speedy recovery (it was feared he would be out for the season) was down to prayer. Apparently all his Oirish aunts have prayed for him and it seems to have worked. Following their example I asked for help with my useless premium bonds. Lo and behold I had a winner. Only £25 (it was only a little prayer) tis true but to a Yorkshireman like me that was big money. And third up was the Guardian feature by much-respected journalist David Conn about the financial prudence at Burnley FC under the chairmanship of Barry Kilby.
Much of this was what we knew already, that to keep the club solvent, Turf Moor had been sold to Longside Properties in 2006 (directors were Barry Kilby and John Sullivan). But then way down the page came something I (and probably many of us) didn't yet know; that Longside Properties the owners of Turf Moor and Gawthorpe, was sold in March to a company called Lionbridge Ltd of which little is known by rank and file supporters. The message from Barry Kilby was simple. In March the club was stretched and Brendan Flood was unable to put more money in. "I felt I needed to have cash available just in case." The 'just-in-case' bit is now no secret. In March and April the club was more than stretched - it was skint. More directors' money kept it solvent, kept the show on the road; maybe some of it coming from the Lionbridge money. The chairman was recently re-assuring. "Turf Moor is secure. That's how it was set up. There's a long lease and the football club can buy it back at any time."
There is one view that argues, so what, who cares, what business is it of ours; it's what happens on the field that matters. The other view is that it's nice to know a bit about who owns the house we live in and the landlord where our money goes. Maybe I lean towards the latter and I'd like to think that the Lionbridge directors are a safe pair of hands. One question occurs. What happens if Lionbridge want to sell one day, and the club cannot afford to buy it back at that point?
Of course all this leads to the big debate. When should the club buy back the ground? When is the best time? It is taken as read that it won't happen this season. But, if the current season clears the financial decks; then another season in the Premiership hits the jackpot and enables all kind of things - ground re-development, academy, and or, buy back the ground. But what's the priority? With another pot of £40million TV money, plus all other income, surely £3.5million to buy back the ground would be a snip, especially minus the £350,000 saved in rent.
On that fantastic day at Wembley I think all of us probably said hey it might be for the one season, let's just enjoy the ride. But, we've had some great wins, played well, been a bit spoiled maybe, our aspirations are maybe just a little higher than the bottom three which is where, not very long ago, we expected to be. Now, I suspect all of us like it in the Premiership, in fact like it very much - enough to want to stay another year. Another year in the Premiership, with no debts, and playing in a ground that we own once again without any third-party landlords, is no bad ambition.
