Sommat reet to moan about 25 years ago

This probably will not interest anyone/many on here but it might give a fans perspective in what it is to be really bad as a team/club..........

"I was there ~ When Burnley escaped relegation on the last day of the 1986-87 season, Peter Bateman thought he had witnessed one of football's romantic occasions. On reflection, he saw an awful game that nearly took a club out of existence

For 20 years I lived with the comforting illusion that I had seen what, in the circumstances, had been an excellent game of football at Turf Moor on May 9, 1987, with Burnley securing their League status with a well-deserved, if narrow, win. Then I saw the video.
Following Tranmere's win the night before, one of Burnley, Torquay or Lincoln would be the first club automatically relegated from the Football League. Burnley were odds-on favourites to go down. A First Division club only 11 years earlier, the Clarets were broke, the team was a demoralised rabble and the supporters were disillusioned to the extent that crowds had dropped below 2,000 at times that season. Burnley had to win and hope that one of the two other teams lost.

The night before the game, a group of friends and I decided in a Birmingham pub that we would go along to support the Clarets. A 10am the following morning we set off up the M6 in my battered Metro. There was a proverbial sea of claret and blue on the M6 but only, as it turned out, because relegated Aston Villa were bowing out of Division One at Old Trafford. Only after the M62 did we see significant numbers of Burnley supporters.

The supporters turned out in force that day. The pubs were crowded before the match, but the raucous singing barely masked the anxiety. People were buying programmes by the armful outside the ground. One particularly enterprising individual was making a killing selling T-shirts emblazoned with the words "John Bond is a bastard", as if his single season as manager had brought the club so low.

A crowd of 10,000 had been expected, but nearly twice as many turned up, causing a 20-minute delay to kick-off. They brought old scarves from happier days as lucky charms and carried table-top radios on shoulders to keep abreast of the scores elsewhere.

The news that the refereeing appointment had been changed at the last minute heightened the anxiety. Eddie Guy had been replaced by George Courtney, the country's top referee at the time. Clearly the League wanted to reduce to a minimum the possibility of Burnley being relegated because of a refereeing error. The implication was they had written the Clarets off.

The game kicked off at 3.20pm and Orient, who needed a win for a play-off place, poured forward. They had a header cleared off the line and rattled the crossbar with a shot before Burnley settled. A minute before half time, Neil Grewcock received the ball on the right wing. The defenders showed him inside and he hit a left-foot shot into the far corner.

With Torquay and Lincoln both losing, the mood began to brighten. Just after half time Ian Britton headed in a quickly taken free-kick and the party started. The celebrations were brief, as Alan Comfort, who had been a thorn in Burnley's side all afternoon, soon pulled a goal back. There followed half an hour of slow torture, which became all the worse when we discovered the other games had finished and results had gone Burnley's way.

Burnley had chances to make the game safe but somehow it wasn't in the script. The tension was raised a notch each time they failed to score. Towards the end of the game, someone turned up their radio and I heard the mellifluous voice of Peter Jones – this was Radio Two's live commentary game. I looked across to the moors and saw them dappled in the sunlight that was breaking through the cloud. If this was a sign from on high, it escaped most people in the ground.

It was after 5pm by the time Courtney ended our torment. The crowds streamed onto the pitch, where several players had collapsed in nervous exhaustion. Many supporters were in tears. "Not a bad game considering," we agreed. "Burnley played some decent stuff." Back in the King's Head pub on the outskirts of Birmingham my companions reckoned we had chosen a good day out, experienced history and seen a decent game.

That was my view for 20 years. Then I watched the video. The game was awful. Burnley's players seemed paralysed by fear, incapable of stringing two passes together. I could now see what I missed from my position behind a stanchion on the Long Side in 1987 – just how close Orient came to putting Burnley out of the League and, almost certainly, out of existence.

How Burnley managed to win is a mystery. Games like this are best replayed in the head. Even in football you can only bear so much reality. Peter Bateman"


Lest we forget.

Edit - 15,000 at Turf Moor

Yes, I remember that (remember Burnley being the team of the seventies too!).

Best escape ever though as to be the Jimmy Glass one -

Sobering stuff. Football exploits are best remembered if you've had a drink or three while said memories were being created. One of my best games as a player was in a friendly encounter against a team my elder brother coached - I had had a glass or three of wine earlier that afternoon and I was in a decidedly good mood on the pitch that afternoon!

Earlier that week we played Crewe away and lost 1-0 and I and every other Burnley came off Gresty Rd thinking that was it.
That's the only time that I've had a tear in my eye at the footy.

It was like going to a funeral was the game against Orient and I got absolutely toasted before the game, hoping to block it out.

I managed to get on the pitch though and sunday morning was a painful one with all the bruises, but it was a happy one as well.

They say worse things happen at sea..... but not if you're a football supporter.

A view from an Orient fan.............

"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."