Mud Sweat and Shears by Dave Thomas

Mud Sweat and Shears by Dave Thomas

Author:Dave Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pitch Publishing
Published: 2017-03-15T00:00:00+00:00


14

1982/83: A strange kind of season

‘S ATURDAY 28 August,’ wrote Tim Quelch. ‘A magnificent day, arriving early I parked the car at Crown Point and cooled for a while in the swishing air, reading Friday’s Evening Star. The view was superb. Across the valley stood Pendle Hill, somehow tamed by the warm sunlight and there, below me, was Turf Moor, its totemic floodlights dominating the terraced housing. Just a few scrambled clouds populated the sky, enough to disperse the distant sunlight, enough to impress a patchwork pattern upon the valley. It was a blithely reassuring moment. All seemed well. The prospects seemed as fair as the weather.

‘Dexy’s “Come on Eileen” was number one, but Sting’s “Spread a Little Happiness” was on my mind. It seemed fitting until I realised that it was from the musical version of that dark drama, Brimstone and Treacle.’

Dark drama might well be hyperbole in any description of the coming season at Burnley, but drama certainly fitted the bill. This would be a season that ended in relegation for the newly promoted side, but along the way there were events that were most unlike any other campaign. And all the while in the background was a growing fractiousness in the boardroom.

In his wellies and donkey jacket, Roy carried on doing his job, sometimes aware of the shifting moods, perfectly aware of a team that performed poorly in the league but magnificently in the cup competitions, resulting in two outstanding games and one that will be forever remembered in Burnley history.

But by and large he just got on with things, regardless of whatever crisis was taking place around him; forking, rolling, levelling, filling and cutting, just doing the best he could with his limited resources. No matter what goes on, no matter what the weather (and this would be a season marked towards the end by some of the heaviest rain ever), the one constant is the pitch the team needs to play on.

Roy’s season began with a mower that didn’t work and the need to borrow the one that belonged to the next-door cricket club. Then there were 20 tons of shale that needed barrowing and spreading along the perimeter of the pitch. Needless to say he was short of labour and help. Friday 6 August and the new goalposts hadn’t arrived. Ridiculous he wrote in his diary. There wasn’t even a useable full set to erect temporarily on site. The new ones were a week overdue. By 11 August using old sets from Gawthorpe at last there was one set erected at Turf Moor. Never seen such a cock-up, he noted.

Barney was nowhere to be found when he was needed (‘Building walls in my garden,’ said Frank Casper, grinning). A second set of goalposts was cobbled together from damaged ones brought up from Gawthorpe.

Saturday 14 August, and the first game against Oldham ended in a draw. Roy was complimented by everybody on the state of the pitch, the referee, players, manager and even the directors to his amazement.



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