No. 69: Turf Moor [Burnley]

Saturday, 18th October 2014.
Burnley v. West Ham United [Premiership] 1-3

Sometimes, I do wonder to myself why I'm doing this. At 7.30am on a Saturday morning, possessing a rollicking hangover from the night before, the prospect of a four-hour drive to Mid-Lancashire was not an enticing one.

But I'd paid £35 for a ticket. I had people up there I'd arranged to meet. And even the most famous political Claret, Alastair Campbell, had agreed to answer some of my inane questions about his beloved Burnley.  I couldn't really not go, could I?

And I'm glad I did - because I had a fantastic day visiting, was made to feel so welcome, and got a real feel for why I'm doing this project.

Turf Moor, Burnley.

Turf Moor was one of those places I'd always wanted to visit, and being unable to visit classic old Football League grounds like Burnley's home is half the reason I'm mixing it up this season. Following one club up and down the country for 20 years will certainly get you part of the way to the 92, but even  following a club with a fair amount of yo-yoing through the divisions will still result in missing a few grounds.

As it is, Oxford have visited Burnley only twice in the last 20 years, the last visit coming in 1999 in the 3rd tier, and the next one, barring a lucky cup draw, isn't likely to be anytime soon, with three divisions now between the two clubs.

And so - Turf Moor was my destination this week, for a Top Tier clash in what will almost certainly have been billed somewhere else first "The Battle of The Clarets". That's as good a reason as any to pick this game, I thought.

Turf Moor: Football, Chimneys & Moorlands.

This part of Lancashire is always further up the country than I expect it to be. I'm always expecting to practically be there when you hit the Manchester ring-road, not the extra 45 mins up the A56 that it actually is. Being a Southern softie, visiting "The North" always has a feel of visiting somewhere different to the norm, but with childhood visits to Grandparents in Huddersfield, there is also something warningly Proustian about the stark moorlands and dry-stone walls giving way to the soot-covered chimneys and black slate terraces of a former mill or mining town.

Burnley is a small town of about 70,000 people, reaching its peak during the industrial revolution as one of the country's prominent mill towns and was once one of the world's largest centres of cotton production. For such a small town, and small catchment area with so many other clubs in the region, it is a remarkable proportion of the town that support and attend games at Turf Moor. Back in the club's 1920s heyday, 55,000 people cramming into Turf Moor was not unknown - just over 50% of the town's population. And as you approach Burnley, the ground is visible from all directions, like all good places of worship usually are.

Turf Moor at sunset, visible beyond the terraces.

Such homogeneity of support hasn't changed - I'm told that you would never see a Man Utd or Liverpool shirt on the streets of the town. Those NOT found wearing a Burnley shirt on any given day are probably not really that into football. Or not from the town. Either of which would make them a rare sight in the town in itself.

My pre-match pitstop before the game yesterday was the charming nearby village of Worsthorne, where I was meeting a friend of a colleague for a "pot" before the game. That's a pint, to you other southern dandies reading along.

Street sign in Worsthorne: Gorple not for cars.

And if you didn't know that you'll probably, like me, not have heard of a "Brown Split" before either, will you? It's a half of keg bitter, topped up with a bottle of Mann's Brown Ale.

Brown Split: different.

I'm told it's equivalent to an old pint of Mild, which is quite a rare sight on pub taps these days, even in these parts - but used to be the drink of choice for many pub goers north of the Watford Gap, before the cask ale revival.

And for someone who didn't want to treat his hangover too badly, it went down pretty well, I have to say.

Worsthorne is just a couple of miles away from Turf Moor, and a short and easy taxi ride after my Brown Splits in the Worsthorne Social Club with my hosts for the day. At 2:30, we pulled up right outside the ground and into the crowded streets and sea of claret shirts.


None of the clarets I saw were of the cockney variety - the West Ham fans were kept segregated at the other end of the ground in and around the cricket club, with none of the other pubs around Turf Moor allowing away fans. Something I expected to be the case, given the 'reputation' of Burnley as a destination for away fans. A reputation that everyone I spoke to was aware of, but unanimously thought it was undeserved.

Turf Moor & surrounding streets on match day. Vibrant.

Every club has its idiots of course, and I'm sure if some 'appy 'ammers did wander down the main road singing about how much they love bubbles they'd attract the attention of some host fans who may wish to pop those bubbles in a vigorously disturbing manner.

But honestly, as a neutral walking around before the game and mingling with locals, all I felt was a warm sense of a real community club, real fans and a real football club lucky enough to still have an old school ground full of history and character right in the heart of their bustling little town. This is how the Premiership should be.

Chip Butty in Burnley: Clasic.

That warming feeling I had could also have been helped by the carb-overload chip butty (mandatory pre-match grub, I was told) purchased outside the ground. It could also have been down to the Béné 'n' Hot I had inside the ground at half-time.

Now, if the brown split made you shake your head, Burnley's unique obsession with the French herbal liqueur Bénédictine will probably astound you. It dates back to the First World War, when soldiers from the 11th Battalion of the East Lancashire got a taste for it whilst stationed in the trenches near where it was made in Normandy.

Today, the Burnley Miners' Social club is the single biggest consumer of Bénédictine in the world, and the local preference of mixing with hot water as a winter warmer is even served on match days at Turf Moor.

Getting a Half-Time Béné 'n' Hot at Turf Moor!

And it certainly warmed my cockles as I enjoyed one alongside an entertaining game, which sadly for my hosts didn't go the their way despite an encouraging 1st half.

Despite current results and an expectation that relegation may be hard to avoid this season, the feeling around the club is that they are still a club on an upward curve. When asked whether Burnley were on the up or not, Alastair Campbell believes they are all but defying gravity, having got to the top flight on one of The Championship's smallest budgets last season.

Certainly, there are no panic buttons being pressed at Turf Moor and manager Sean Dyche is still very much a fan favourite, from what I could tell. Indeed, everyone I spoke to still has the belief that they are good enough crop of players, playing good enough football, to somehow survive this season - if only they could start scoring goals!

Turf Moor: Looking towards away fans in David Fishwick Stand.

They do have a point - Burnley could easily have gone into the dressing rooms at half-time in the lead, given the amount of possession they had. And yet, the best chances, including a re-bound off the post, still fell to the visitors. Burnley clearly need someone who will convert chances and turn that possession into goals and points.

GOAL! But sadly not enough for the Clarets.

Two goals in rapid succession early after the break pretty much killed this game, despite a quick rally to make it 1-2 shortly after West Ham's clinical front-line had inflicted that double-blow.

1-3 it finished to the visitors, and they went home happy enough to give Mr Campbell a less-than friendly sing-song at the railway station when they noticed Burnley's famous son on the platform, so I'm told!

Mostly good-natured, he believed - but it's telling that the only anti-social behaviour I heard about on the day didn't come from the infamous welcoming committee I'd been led to believe greets most away fans on a visit to this town.

Just like my last ground visit to Luton a few weeks ago - sometimes it's best not to believe the hype, and if you mean well and don't court trouble, you've no reason to fear anything other than a friendly Lancashire welcome from a visit to Turf Moor.

Burnley of course, are still looking to pick up their first win of the campaign after this defeat, whereas for the cockney clarets, yesterday's win saw them in unfamiliar position of 4th in the table. I have a feeling there will be a closing of the gap between them come May, from what I saw.

Turf Moor: Jimmy McIlroy Stand.

But even if they do get relegated, the Burnley fans I spoke to this weekend are unlikely to be too disheartened about the future of their great club.

All of them, when asked "Do you actually want to stay in the Premiership?" paused before answering. And although all of the eventual answers were yes, of course, there was always a "but" following…

"…but, I do like the Championship."
"…but, although it's nice to be up here for a bit, our natural place is probably the league below."


And my favourite, from the unnamed gentleman sat next to me in the James Hargreaves Stand:
"...but, I don't think many will cry like big blubbery babies if we go down this season. We've got a good manager, no debt & the best fans in the land. As long as we keep all them we'll be happy here."

I'll raise a pint of brown split to that sentiment.

A Lancashire Sunset in Burnley.

And as the sun set as I drove away from Lancashire this evening, I couldn't help but hope I've got a good excuse to visit this part of the world again soon. Visiting clubs and atmospheric grounds like this is what this project is all about, and long may they remain as they are.

With thanks to Alastair Campbell (@campbellclaret), Dave Burnley & Russell & The Worsthorne Social Club Gang. You all rock.

Next up: TBC!