popular STAND 79

EDITORIAL Friends, Rovers, Yorkshiremen,

A combination of high travel costs, scarcity of southern opponents, and a decision to save to watch my national team (pages 28-30) means that today’s game against Crewe will be only the fifth time I’ve seen Rovers all season.

Mind, such has been Rovers form for much of it I’ve largely considered myself fortunate rather than hard done by in this regard.

Let me begin with a question; what would you do if you could no longer spend your Saturday afternoons watching Rovers? Would you follow from a far? Would you seek out alternate action? Or both of the above?

I ask because in this issue we feature two articles by supporters who, for very different reasons – moving away and ill-health – no longer found being at the Rovers to be part of their Saturday ritual (pages 12-16). A number of you, particularly those who subscribe, are likely to have faced this situation yourself, and as such may be able to identify with the tone of these respective pieces, which is in effect the old adage, you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone.

However, as I’ve detailed in the pages of popular STAND before, my entire life has largely revolved around Saturday afternoon escapism to football. And so, not for me hours spent refreshing live text screens and waiting for Final Score, or hoping that Player might deliver an issue-free ninety minutes. No. I am of the belief that there is no substitute for being actually at football, and so to football I have gone. To Dulwich Hamlet and Lewisham Borough, to Clapton and to Mile End, to Redbridge and to Cray Valley. I’ve seen great games and I’ve seen awful ones, but most importantly I’ve seen and experienced football.

Having lived in London for three years, watching Rovers live in the flesh has become a rarer and rarer treat for me too.

CONTENTS: ISSUE 79 5 9 10 11 12 14 17 18 20

The Bernard Glover Diaries Remembering the First Time A Touch of Frost Saunders P.I. Over the Hills Voice of the Pop Side Conference Calls Jack the Miner’s Coal Face Guide to Christmas Gifts

22 24 26 28 31 32 34 38 39 3

Jack’s Craic Howard’s Marks Gary Brabin Memorial Lounge Beneath the Statue Memorable Memorabilia Marshall Matters Windmills of Your Mind Reg Ipsa: Legal Beagle Follows the Rovers

I will never understand those who choose to spend their Saturdays in the company of Soccer Saturday, or watching Garth Crooks meander through a fifteen minute question that ultimately turns out to be rhetorical.

Why waste an afternoon on the sofa, or down the club, watching obscenely paid men sit around discussing the performances of other obscenely paid men? Why do that when the game you love can be found on your doorstep?

Earlier this year the Government announced they were giving £3m to support grass-roots football… not here, in China. Those in power evidently aren’t bothered about the grass-roots game, so it’s time to step up and show we are. We may not flirt with foreign cash, but we can support our teams and our towns.

So the next time Rovers are out of reach from you on a Saturday afternoon or Tuesday night, don’t just turn on the television, or the radio, or the computer. Get yourself outside. Go on, get out in the open and support local football whilst you can. Give your money to an actual person rather than one of Rupert Murdoch’s bank accounts, and see it go to an actual club, where it will make an actual difference, in an actual community. Football is bigger than one club, and certainly bigger than one league, but only if we all do our bit and continue to support the game over the brands.

GW

You shouldn’t ever scoff at Non-league football; it needs your support more than the Premier League ever could.

Your communities need their football clubs more than you need to hear Robbie Savage’s opinion on… well… anything. Just last week Rossington Main halved their prices and used a game against AFC Mansfield to hold a collection for local foodbanks.

They were rewarded with the biggest crowd of the day; over 200 people, all backing their community. That’s what non-league football is about; pride.

4

THE BERNARD GLOVER DIARIES A NEW MANAGER AND NEW FORTUNES; IT’S NOT BEEN A BAD COUPLE OF MONTHS, ALL TOLD. SATURDAY 3 OCTOBER ROVERS 2-1 BARNSLEY

TUESDAY 6 OCTOBER YORK CITY 2-0 ROVERS

There’s no better way to win a local derby than an undeserved last minute winner. It means you get to not only enjoy the opposition fans’ disappointment, but their crushing sense of injustice too. ‘You’s dint deserve that’ said one, leaving the ground. ‘Aye,’ I grinned, ‘I know’.

Through spectacles newly tinted rose by victory over folk not unlike ourselves, we can enjoy the fact that Rovers are unbeaten at home. And on Doncastrian turf at least have found a way to be hard to breakdown.

After the light comes the dark. But, so what… it’s only the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy. Besides, Wembley is shit compared to the Millennium Stadium, anyway.

FRIDAY 16 OCTOBER Rovers bring to an end a month of speculation (well, ok, a week of speculation and three weeks of tedium) by appointing Darren Ferguson as the club’s new manager. ‘I’m delighted to be here,’ Ferguson tells the assembled press. ‘It’s an exciting challenge. It’s a sound football club and my aims match those of the board. Being out for six months gives you time to reflect, learn and take that in to your next job. League One is anyone’s.’ Positive noises and vague predictions; he’ll do for now.

In the first half of this game Barnsley controlled possession. Poor James Horsfield probably still doesn’t know what Kadeem Harris’ face looks like, having spent his match chasing the winger. Though he rounded Horsfield with ease, Harris thankfully found end products harder to come by, and so, against the run of play Rovers went ahead through Keshi Anderson’s nearpost flick.

SATURDAY 17 OCTOBER ROVERS 0-1 BRADFORD CITY Darren Ferguson strode purposefully on to the Keepmoat turf, the sounds of the Shotts and Dykehead Caledonian Pipe Band playing in his mind. Was this really his destiny? Was this the moment his father dreamed about?

Perhaps, but not quite yet, for no sooner had Ferguson’s trousers touched dugout plastic, Bradford were ahead. Rory McArdle heading goalwards for Devante Cole to prod home.

The second half proved more balanced; Barnsley equalised and brought two decent saves out of Thorsten Stuckmann once level. However, Rovers were mercifully improved too and in the 90th minute smashed and grabbed a win. Young Harry Middleton delaying his pass into the feet of Richard Chaplow to give the midfielder enough room to fire home.

5

Rovers thought they’d equalised on twenty-five minutes in an unseemly scramble, but the referee decided otherwise and that was pretty much that, as though Rovers were full value for an equaliser they lacked the cutting edge to make it happen.

TUESDAY 27 OCTOBER MILLWALL 2-0 ROVERS Seven minutes in, 2-0 down, and very much architects of our own downfall.

The opening ten minutes aside, the performance Rovers put in at The Den wasn’t all that bad. They passed the ball reasonably; created opportunities, but by then it was all too late; to give them credit would be like complementing The Titanic’s staff on how polite and efficient they were once they’d hit that iceberg.

TUESDAY 20 OCTOBER SHREWSBURY TOWN 1-2 ROVERS What to expect under Ferguson? Who could truly know this early, but tonight suggests we’re in for a rollercoaster.

Not only an away win, but for the larger share, this game also saw an unshackling of the cautious play that characterized much of Paul Dickov’s time Nobody benefitted from this more than James Coppinger, whose goal from a corner raised hopes that tonight might just be the night. Six minutes later, a phenomenal triple save from Stuckmann seemed to confirm it.

However, Nathaniel Knight-Percival flew in at the far post to power a header past the Big German and keep us guessing.

The first goal showcased a new level of woefulness; Stuckmann’s goal-kick half-heartedly hit back to him by Richie Wellens allowing Steve Morrison to score. For the second Rovers showed the defensive maturity of eight-yearolds; so focused on their new handholding routine that they forgot to mark the fella who’d just scored; Morrison, all on his own to leisurely pick his spot in the bottom corner.

And that was the game done. No coming back. The defence looked as composed as Louis Spence; Jamie Coppinger showed he still has the best touch outside the top flight, but sadly the 74th best cross and poor Andy Williams ambled on at the death looking and moving like the ghost of striking form past. Ferguson could well be the man to turn things around, but to do so he’ll need to address the chronic malaise that’s turned capable footballers into deflated holograms of their own ability. That, and stop gifting opponents two goal starts.

But then Ferguson appears to favour the schoolboy tactic of ‘we’re going to score one more than you’. Which is fine, because in the on-loan Keshi Anderson, we’ve a genuine schoolboy, give or take a few years, who plays football with such naïve brilliance, he’s the player we all hoped Kyle Bennett might be. His goal, on 87 minutes, resulted in scenes of mild delirium.

SATURDAY 24 OCTOBER PETERBOROUGH UTD 4-0 ROVERS That’s the problem with mild delirium; it’s all over too soon. The only positive I can take from this game one was that I wasn’t there. I’m not even sure where I was on this afternoon – meaning I’ve much in common with Rovers defence.

WEDNESDAY 28 OCTOBER

6

Football manager’s press conferences are ordinarily about as revealing as An Audience with Sooty, sans Matthew Corbett.

However, this week the journalists had cause to break off their weekly nap as Feguson hinted that all was not as healthy as we may have thought. ‘It’s not going to be a quick fix, this is going to take time. There are a lot of things that need changing, not just on the pitch. The general culture I think needs changing, and it’s going to take time.’

Possibly connected to that cultural shift was the arrival of two players on loan from Everton; young midfielder Conor Grant and experienced full-back Felippe Mattioni, once of AC Milan.

Sure he’ll be right at home among the fashionable splendour and notable frescos of Balby. As those two arrived, one departed – Oscar Gobern returning to QPR; no, we hardly noticed either

SATURDAY 7 NOVEMBER ROVERS 2-0 STALYBRIDGE CELTIC This was all about James Coppinger, which was good, because the game itself was a disappointment. This was a day that we never thought we’d see, the one when Colin Douglas’ all-time club appearance record was surpassed.

Coppinger took the field for Rovers for the 469th time – a twelve year span, so long that it’s almost impossible to comprehend a time before his. If I had my way he’d have been carried round the field on a sedan chair for the ninety minutes, but apparently that’s ‘against the spirit of the game’, ‘unfeasible’ and ‘frankly ridiculous’ according to the powers that be, so he had to make do with a 26th minute ovation instead.

SATURDAY 31 OCTOBER ROVERS 2-0 COLCHESTER UNITED

Anyway, the game, and one that was something of an oddity, as for a prized FA Cup first round tie, Stalybridge didn’t really seem bothered. What fragile belief they may have had was quickly drained by an early, placed finish from the energetic Williams for 1-0. The second half brought an early introduction of livewire Anderson and Rovers stepped up a gear to tear through Stalybridge once more; Williams netting a sharp angled finish through a crowded box to double the score.

Back to back defeats had lowered the optimism levels for Ferguson’s first home game in charge, but anyone expecting a Halloween horror show was to be pleasantly surprised. Colchester started well but Rovers gradually grew in stature; the excellent Middleton replacing Wellens as the midfield pivot, with loanee Grant, impressive from the off, taking over all set-piece duties with refreshing quality. His credentials were further proven on 40 minutes when he found space 25 yards out and unleashed a left-foot screamer into the far corner for 1-0.

SATURDAY 14 NOVEMBER BLACKPOOL 0-2 ROVERS Blackpool officially shut down for winter the previous weekend; no pleasure beach, no illuminations, generally no fun to be had (Feel free to insert your own, ‘how could you tell?’ gag here). Thankfully for the travelling fans Rovers were in the mood to bring light entertainment, and made a start just too good to be true as Williams curled in an opener.

The second goal came by virtue of a superb counter attack, Coppinger ghosting through Colchester’s zombielike defence before perfectly laying off for Andy Williams to slot home a second. To their credit, Colchester fought back well, forcing more excellent work from Stuckmann, but the result never looked in doubt.

7

Rovers kept up the pressure in an impressive display and Aaron TaylorSinclair added the second goal just before the break. In the second half Rovers fans backed their Blackpool compatriots by unfurling an Osyton Out banner, to warm applause. Today we saw off Blackpool, in the past we saw off Richardson and in the future Blackpool fans will hopefully see off Oyston.

SATURDAY 28 NOVEMBER COVENTRY CITY 2-2 ROVERS A telling sign of the improvement Rovers have already made under Ferguson with a deserved point at the league leaders that could’ve been more.

Having gone behind in the first half Rovers came out fighting in the second half, and soon levelled as Tyson poked home the rebound from a Williams effort. Unfortunately Coventry retook the lead, but Rovers would rally again.

They’d already had a Williams goal ruled out for a mystery push on the keeper when Tyson grabbed his second from Williams pass to level the game, and then a minute from time he almost won it for Rovers; hitting the cross-bar with an ambitious effort.

SATURDAY 21 NOVEMBER ROVERS 0-2 ROCHDALE Despite the bitter chill prompting the season’s inaugural outing of The Big Coat, Rovers good form had brought a buzz of optimistic anticipation. We never learn. The first half followed a frustrating script as Rovers dominated against uninspiring opponents who’s only apparent tactic was to commit fouls about thirty yards from goal.

Unable to capitalise on the set-pieces Rovers challenge steadily waned, before pretty much evaporating completely after a terrible injury to Anderson.

Rochdale duly took advantage with two goals in the final seven minutes for Ian Henderson securing the win.

SUNDAY 6 DECEMBER CAMBRIDGE UNITED 1-3 ROVERS I’ve always thought Cambridge to be a world away from my comfort zone; an idea reiterated when I arrived to the sight of a mime artist ordering a crepe. It really is a different world. The first 45 minutes merit little coverage; Rovers trailing to a debatable penalty.

Mercifully the first half ’s pointless exertions would be forgotten within ten minutes of the restart as Rovers ran in three goals in quick succession. The first bore a touch of luck for Mitchell Lund, as he beat his man with a nolook, no-intention sidestep, and pulled back for Grant to drive a low-shot through the ‘keeper. Lund then turned scorer, much to his own astonishment, appearing himself in the right place to tap home Stewart’s excellent far-post cross for his first Rovers goal. And the goal-storm continued a minute later when the highly impressive Grant scored the best of the lot, a curling twenty-five yard strike that gave the home ‘keeper no chance. Job done, into the hat, on we go.

TUESDAY 24 NOVEMBER ROVERS 3-0 CHESTERFIELD Forget the first half of this one – we already have. Instead, revel in the memories of the second when Rovers dominated the fellas with the wonky church. The breakthrough came from Nathan Tyson; tucking home the rebound from his own saved penalty, before a glorious second on the counterattack. Coppinger fed Cedric Evina and he ended his break by squaring for Williams for 2-0. Chesterfield were out of it, especially for and after the third when Cameron Stewart robbed a defender and ran the ball in himself. A very enjoyable win.

8

GW

REMEMBERING THE FIRST TIME A SLIGHT TWIST TO THE USUAL FORMAT OF THIS FEATURE AS KEVIN MAYE RECALLS HIS SON’S FIRST GAME. So all afternoon while I was working I was listening out for sirens (how would I hear in the town centre if something happened at Belle Vue), checking the news, I think I even got Trax FM on for a while. All obviously for no reason, we were in the Conference, Rotherham weren’t much higher. I think the crowd was probably about 500 people plus my son and his new friends, who must have decided to try and be responsible for a change because they all came home together, unscathed and with another 10 year old hooked on Rovers.

My first Rovers’ game.

Well actually not my first Rovers game, that came later, let me explain.

I’m a doer, so while I enjoyed kicking a ball around from the minute I could walk, I didn’t watch football growing up. I was seven before I saw an FA Cup final on TV and never asked my Dad to take me to a game, which was lucky as he was a Wednesdays fan. So while I’d count myself as an Ipswich fan (you can guess which FA Cup final that first TV game was) I never attended a local game.

After that I couldn’t avoid Belle Vue, if I wasn’t working Liam would want to go, and the atmosphere in the Pop Stand was brilliant. For a few years Rovers was a passion, long enough to get my wife and daughter going along too. We were there in Cardiff and at Wembley but by then Liam was happier to go with his friends and my inner tightarse balked at the price for me to go alone to Keepmoat. Liam still gets to the Keepmoat when he’s home from Uni mind.

Fast forward to my son coming along and even though he was into football I never took him to a game, why would I if I wasn’t going myself?

So when I was working in Doncaster one Saturday and got a text message from my wife that read ‘Liam has gone to the game with the Dickinson lads’ I worried.

Crazy thoughts ran through my head.

Yes it was pre-season but the visitors were Rotherham; local derbies can’t be friendly. What’s Belle Vue like, didn’t someone try to burn it down a couple of years ago? And the Dickinson lads?! They can get into a fight in their own garden with no one else around, why would she let my little boy go with them?

My daughter is a doer like me, so with the wife I watch her play, coincidentally for Rotherham. But Rovers is still the first result we all look for on a Saturday afternoon, followed by Ipswich because old habits die hard.

9

KM

A TOUCH OF FROST DAVE FROST WONDERS IF FOOTBALL FANS HAVE CHANGED OVER THE YEARS HE’S BEEN A SUPPORTER When I was a kid growing up in the fifties just about everybody supported their local team. It was a natural thing; you were proud of where you came from and felt part of the club.

The three o’clock kick off was almost written in stone although we did have a period where we kicked off at 2:15pm after Reading complained about our floodlights, despite beating us 5-2. Most boys had a second favourite team, which was allowed.

Mine was Wolves, though that was more to do with their old gold and black kit than being a top team.

The other thing being there was very little TV coverage of football, just the FA Cup final and odd international match. I also remember seeing some 1958 World Cup games on our old 12” black and white telly. There was a mystique about the foreign players and even England players, given they were only seen in FA Cup matches if you supported a lower league club.

Fast forward to today and you can see numerous games from around the world on a daily basis. The days when you went to the pub at the weekend, or back to work or school on a Monday, and talked of your local side has now been replaced by experts interviewing Wenger or Mourinho and endlessly dissecting controversial issues.

I remember going to see my auntie in Gainsborough and as we drove through the village of Everton seeing the sign and naively asking ‘Wow is this where Everton play?’ My dad gently told me the real Everton were in Liverpool. I can’t imagine any ten year olds making that mistake now.

The new armchair breed of supporter ( I can’t call them fans ) can watch their team every week, either a live game or extended highlights and then repeat the hackneyed clichés of the pundits analysing the game. Some of these have barely attended a live game, never mind a game at the home of their adopted club.

You watched your local team also because that was the only realistic choice, without spending time and money on bus and train tickets. Most adult male fans in the North were invariably pit, shipyard or factory workers. This being a time of almost full employment meant most worked Saturday mornings, giving them a three hour window to go home change and get to the ground. You did see far more fans then in working clothes attending matches.

I love talking football to fans of other clubs and usually a few minutes is enough to tell how much they know about the game in general and how committed they are.

10

I was talking to a guy in Egypt a couple of years or so ago and mentioned trying to get the football results to see how we’d done. ‘Who do you support?’ he asked. ‘Oh, Doncaster Rovers’ I replied, to which he said ‘I daren’t tell you who I support, we’re crap at the minute’.

He then told me that his team was actually Manchester United who despite losing three games in a row were still in the top six of the Premier League.

I’d venture he might even be a Manchester City fan now as I have seen a number of his sort quietly move to another side as the cycle of success moves on and leaves them behind.

I’m proud to have supported my home town club for more than fifty years.

I’ve seen more than my fair share of dross in this time but at least when you do achieve something or have a good cup run you can really appreciate it, and then wait for the next one.

I know success is relative but you can’t expect much sympathy when your team is looking down on more than 90% of the rest of the Football League. It turned out he didn’t even know what day they were playing or even their next opponents; unbelievable to most true fans.

That’s my rant over, but I feel strongly that nothing replaces the feeling of actually attending a match in person; if only a few more thought the same.

DF

11

OVER THE HILLS IN THE FIRST OF TWO PIECES ON WATCHING ROVERS FROM AFAR LIAM OTLEY TALKS OF MOVING AWAY The best way to describe it is an addiction, and going cold turkey is difficult. Probably my earliest clear memory of going to the Rovers was the Carlisle game at Belle Vue, the last day of the 2003-04 season.

What is it they say about absence making the heart grow fonder? I have to give credit to people who’ve been exiled for many years, it’s a surprisingly arduous task.

I’m at university in Lancashire/ Merseyside (I’m not sure which’s worse to claim to be honest with you), and it’s the first time I’ve lived outside of South Yorkshire in all my 19 years.

There are odd flashes before then; Dad being happy that we beat Hull, Dad complaining after losing at Scarborough in the FA Cup etc. etc.

For something to be such a regular fixture in your life for more than half your life, and then suddenly be beyond reach is an odd sensation.

I could go on to rant about essays and having to type mathematical equations rather than hand write them, or how it is a breadcake, not a chuffing barm, but I could probably put it more succinctly.

Particularly as I’ve grown up during the glory years, the loss is more evident. Here’s something that’ll make you feel old; I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of Franny Tierney scoring at Stoke, I’m too young. Heck, I barely remember the times BC (Before Coppinger).

Some things I have discovered; students are expected to like dance music and terrible alcohol, nobody understands my accent unless I do Game of Thrones impressions and it’s nothing like The Young Ones (well, apart from that I’m on the University Challenge team). Oh, and I miss the Rovers more than I was expecting.

I turn 20 in January. As a little kid, Leo, the Sarge, McIndoe and Warrington were my heroes, like many of yours will be Duggie or the Snodins. Growing up, Rovers and success were synonymous. Admittedly things faltered a bit under Dickov, but on the whole, it’s been pretty good over the last decade or so.

You get into a pattern; go to Rovers, come home, have your tea, go to the pub. This is, more or less, how my life has worked for the past two years. Before that, I didn’t go to the pub. Since September, this has not happened, and it’s surprising how disorientating it is.

Then, I move more than 100 miles away and practically every Roversrelated thing in my life is missing.

12

As I write this (post-Chesterfield), from what I’ve gained from various online sources, there appears to be a feelgood factor coming around the club again, something that has been missing for the last few years and one of the main things I’ve always loved about the club.

I’ve tried alternative football matches (Liverpool, Everton, Burscough, Bootle). I’ve tried alternative ways of spending my Saturday (Christmas Shopping). I’ve even tried sitting watching Iain Dowie to keep track, but it just isn’t the same.

I must confess something at this point; that when I was back in South Yorkshire (I refuse to admit that my parents both technically live in Rotherham), there would be some Saturdays where I wasn’t at the Rovers, and quite frankly I forgot that we were playing for most of the day, only realising in the evening that we’d actually played.

The Black Bank exemplifies this. I love a good singsong at the Rovers.

Once upon a time I rendered myself unable to speak or write the day after one of our various wins at Oakwell due to singing and banging on the back of the stand. It does disappoint me that it’s come along whilst I’ve been away, but the fact that it exists is a booster.

It’s a great idea and I’m thrilled to come back to it.

If I’m being honest, that’s kind of what I expected to happen whilst at university, that I’d be distracted by various things and not particularly bothered about the Rovers, in an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ kind of way. I was wrong. I’ve been more interested, particularly since Darren Ferguson took charge.

And so I must confess, when I come home for Christmas, I will be excited to see my family, but I will be equally excited to see my Rovers. It may have only been a few months, but it feels a whole lot longer. Sitting on a freezing cold seat alongside 5,000 other brave souls watching Rovers dismantle Scunthorpe on Boxing Day? There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I’ve been a couple of times since I moved away (Rob Jones’ last game against Bradford, Fergie’s first away at Shrewsbury) and it feels much better going now than at any point last season. I suppose you slip into a comfort zone and, as is commonly said, don’t realise what you have ‘til it’s gone.

LO

13

VOICE OF THE POP SIDE A WELCOME RETURN TO THE FANZINE FOR JOHN COYLE AS HE EXPLAINS HIS ABSENCE AND HOW HE’S WATCHED ROVERS Although I’ve lived away from Doncaster since 1978, I’ve usually managed to get to a decent number of games, home and away, every season.

So late last year if you’d said to me I’d miss 11 months’ worth of matches, I’d have probably laughed at you.

I’ve never had Rovers Player, and had heard lots of complaints about it, so I relied on various twitter feeds and the BBC scores site. This was to be how I followed Rovers for the next couple of months, allied to regular visits to internet forums and the official site to get news on transfers, injuries and other happenings.

However, when I attended the home game against Sheffield United last November, I was aware that something wasn’t right, and it wasn’t Harry Forrester’s idea that suddenly he’d become the team’s penalty taker either!

Being a Rovers fan in a city 100 miles away from Doncaster is usually a decent conversation point with the locals and most of my fellow patients, and some of the nursing staff, followed a football team. They found it strange to have a Rover in their midst. One Saturday afternoon I was bemoaning the fact that we’d just gone behind, and a newcomer to the ward asked me if Paul Lambert’s Aston Villa had just let another one in. He was amused to find that it was a team managed by a different Scotsman called Paul that was the subject of my ire.

For the preceding couple of weeks I’d been experiencing increasing pain in the area of my right hip. At first I thought I’d twisted my leg. Then I thought that maybe my hip joint was coming towards the end of its natural life. But the pain got worse and worse, to the point where I couldn’t sleep, and not long after that Sheffield United game I found myself in hospital undergoing tests. These showed high levels of infection in my system and after much to-ing and fro-ing, I was diagnosed with Osteomyelitis in my femur. Basically I had a serious infection in my thigh bone, and it would mean a lengthy stay in hospital.

As anyone who knows me will tell you, I am a keen statistician and keep records of Rovers matches. I had a phone but not a computer, so I asked a friend to bring in a notebook. No, not a type of computer, but an old fashioned paper one. I noted down line-ups, scorers and even details of reserve and youth games in this little book. I still have it, and perhaps I should keep it as a memento of my stay in hospital.

I’d planned to go up to the away game at Crewe at the end of November, but instead I ended up following the game from a hospital bed via my mobile phone.

14

There were more difficult times to come. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t able to spend Christmas Day at home or with friends and family, although I did have some welcome visitors during the day. They were especially welcome, as my thigh bone, weakened by the infection, had fractured and I was confined to bed while I awaited an operation.

I returned home in February, only able to walk with a Zimmer frame, unable to get up the stairs and requiring assistance with my daily tasks. I still had my metal frame on my leg, over which I was unable to fit ordinary clothes. I lived in a few borrowed hospital gowns and a dressing gown, my bed on the ground floor. But I had TV, Soccer Saturday on Sky and easier internet access. Rovers had just won three in a row and stuck five past Crawley Town.

The operation duly took place a couple of days after Christmas, involved me being in the operating theatre for over five hours, and left me with a large metal frame attached to my upper leg.

I was soon able to take a few hesitant steps, but I was still in considerable pain and feeling miserable and frustrated. Despite Rovers patchy form, match days gave me something to look forward to.

Briefly I entertained hopes of being mobile enough to get to Wembley for the play-off final in May: Rovers subsequent decline in form spared me from such concerns.

As it happened, the metalwork remained attached to my leg for a lot longer than anticipated. Originally my surgeon had told me three months, which had allowed me to have hopes of returning to action before the end of the season.

There was even a chance I might get to see Rovers live, if not in person.

After we drew with Bristol City in the FA Cup in early January, it was announced that the winners’ match against West Ham would be screened live on BBC. I was all set to shell out for the hospital’s expensive pay-tv service, even though I thought it was a rip-off, but sadly Rovers failed to negotiate the replay.

In fact, it ended up being eight months, and the 2015-16 football season was under way by the time I returned to hospital to have it removed.

Again, my hopes of seeing Rovers live were dashed as my operation took place on the very day that we took on Leeds United in the League Cup! Instead of watching the game on Sky, I spent the evening coming round from the operation and following the game on my phone again. But it was worth it - the metal was gone and I could at last move forward with my life...

That evening gave an example of the difficulties I often faced while following a game in hospital. A neighbour came to visit me shortly after the game at Ashton Gate kicked off. By the time we’d had a good chat and said farewell to each other, I checked my phone to find out that Rovers were a goal down. The evening didn’t get any better, either!

15

So I returned home able to wear proper clothes and walk with crutches, and started sessions of physiotherapy.

As I always thought I would, I made quick progress once my leg was strong enough for the frame to be taken away.

I was driving within a couple of weeks, going outdoors without assistance and able to finally climb the stairs (and come down safely, which was more difficult!) I started to look at the fixture list, and thought I could be back at the Keepmoat at the end of October.

But it was great to be back. We really do not appreciate things until we lose the ability to do them, and being able to walk and go to football are just two of the things we take for granted.

As it happened my progress was such that I managed to get to the game against Bradford City on 17 October.

Rovers had just appointed Darren Ferguson and the future suddenly looked a bit brighter. Sadly things on the field were much as I left them and my first game back resulted in a one goal home defeat.

But I am back doing the things I enjoy - going to visit friends, getting to the pub and most of all, watching the Rovers, even though up to now it has been home games only. Who knows though, I might even be able to plan that trip to Wembley again later in the season!

I’m not back to where I was just over 12 months ago: I have been left with a right leg which is not only stiff but is considerably shorter my left leg. As a result, I’m unable to stand for any length of time and I have to use two crutches to walk, which presents its own challenges.

JC

THIS ISSUE STEVE IS... ...wondering whether these things are edible.

16

CONFERENCE CALLS CONTINUING HIS LOOK AT ROVERS’ CONFERENCE HEROES CHRIS KIDD REMEMBERS STRIKER TRISTRAM WHITMAN Tris Whitman’s contribution to Doncaster Rovers recent history is often easily forgotten. We all remember Paul Barnes goal scoring prowess throughout the 2002-03 season and it’s easy to recall Andy Warrington’s penalty saves away at Chester City in the second leg of the Conference Play Off semi final.

We were all there when Barnes broke down the left at the Britannia Stadium before Sir Francis Tierney tapped home for the Golden Goal. We can all remember the following season, beating much fancied Hull City to the Division Three title and the players that got us there. Indeed it goes on; the League Cup run, the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy win, Wembley.

TRISTRAM WHITMAN FACT FILE

But if it wasn’t for Tristram Whitman and his injury time strike from just outside the penalty area against Chester in the Conference Play Off semi-final first leg, we may not have witnessed that enviable list of events.

That goal was to be Whitman’s last for Rovers; he started the Play Off final alongside Paul Barnes before being substituted late in the game ending what would prove to be his last Rovers appearance. With the club playing League football the following season Whitman struggled to get in the side and eventually went out on loan to Tamworth before moving to Dagenham and Redbridge. More recently he could be found coaching the youth sides at Notts County.

Just in front of the Town End snack bar on Belle Vue’s Main Stand terrace I stood contemplating the prospect of having to go to Chester in a few days time needing to win by at least one goal to take the match further. The light was just beginning to turn dusky, the famous floodlights lit the ground up like the theatre of football it was, that football smell of griddled burgers and Bovril snuck out the old snack hut and across the terrace before it.

The second leg was set to be quite a difficult prospect.

BORN: 9 JUNE, 1980 ROVERS APPEARANCES: ROVERS GOALS:

71 16

DEBUT: 18/03/2000 vs YEOVIL TOWN With 90 minutes on the clock, Rovers were getting desperate. Whitman, in the side ahead of Greg Blundell, picked the ball up around twenty five yards out, if memory serves, made himself some space and let fly with a low shot into the corner of the net.

The ground erupted, Rovers were on the way back. Whitman’s goal ensured the sides remained level going into the second leg.

It’s worth digging out that DVD and skipping the whole game until the final minute to savour that Whitman goal; the one that paved the way for the subsequent decade we’ve been privileged enough to see.

17

CJK

JACK THE MINER’S COAL FACE A GENUINE FAT MAN SCOOP FOR THE FANZINE AS JACK THE MINER GETS HIS HANDS ON STEVE EVANS’ DIARY FRIDAY Caught myself in the mirror, sat there in my underpants, belly out, eating a bowl of Frosties. I improve with age.

Babe magnet or what?

MONDAY First day of freedom after my Rotherham departure. Sat by ‘phone all day waiting for the call from Doncaster Rovers. Fell asleep in chair and was woken up by terrible stench.

Realised it was me.

SATURDAY Plucked all my nose hairs out watching Final Score and hid them in the margarine tub. Mrs E didn’t see the funny side when she sat down to her toast. Went out for CocoPops and thought it was a good idea to take a detour to Cheshire and sit outside John Ryan’s house. No sign of John Ryan. No ‘phone call.

TUESDAY Still nothing from Rovers. Maybe news of my availability hasn’t reached them yet. Sat by ‘phone just in case.

Watched The Chuckle Brothers to pass time. The little one was on roller skates and he has a massive chocolate cake and the big one was walking down the street with a big plank.

Anyway the little one gets bashed by the plank and ends up covered in cake. Didn’t see that one coming.

Genius. Total genius. You never know what’s going to happen next with these two.

SUNDAY Sat outside John Ryan’s house.

MONDAY Sat outside John Ryan’s house.

TUESDAY Sat outside John Ryan’s house. Had a walk around his garden. Chased by two big dogs.

WEDNESDAY Still no call. Had a drive to the Keepmoat. Walked around a bit and sat in the car for a few hours and got out every time anyone in a suit walked by. No harm in jogging their memory.

WEDNESDAY Sat outside John Ryan’s house. Had another walk around his garden.

Chased by two big coppers.

THURSDAY Mate says John Ryan is in South Africa for the winter and isn’t on Rovers board these days. Need a Plan B.

THURSDAY Rang BT to make sure there isn’t a fault on the line.

18

TUESDAY Looks like I have got to go through the farce of filling out an application form. I told the woman on the ‘phone there’s no need because it’s all cut and dried but she was having none of it, so she’s going when I get my feet under the table. When I got to the box about ‘Sex’, I wrote ‘Yes please.’ I bet they’ll laugh at that. I bet no-one else ever writes that. That’s probably the kind of leftfield thinking they want.

FRIDAY Sat outside Terry Bramall’s house.

This is Plan B. SATURDAY Short entry today. Can’t write much.

Having to scribble left-handed as Carol Kirkwood has been on Strictly all night and my right hand has had a right royal workout. At least it got rid of the Jehova’s Witnesses.

SUNDAY Classic Chuckle Brothers today. They get a job as cleaners in the house of somebody who makes fantastic models out of matchsticks. It was complete carnage. Things always seem to go wrong for these two but I never see what’s around the corner.

You can shove your Leftie alternative comedians and Monty Python. I reckon these two are right up there with Ted Rodgers and Patrick Kielty as comedy royalty.

WEDNESDAY Ran out of CocoPops. Went to shop.

Flirted with shop girl. Told her my best joke... ‘How do you get a nun pregnant? …Dress her up as an alter boy...’ She sat there with a face like a wet weekend and then the stupid bint called shop manageress so I dropped my trousers and waved my old man at them. They threatened to call police.

It’s political correctness gone mad.

Struggling with this chuffing form.

‘Have you ever had a touchline ban?’ Have you ever been fined for using insulting language or abusive behaviour towards a match official?

Have you ever been subject to an FA investigation?’ Jesus. You’d think they didn’t want me to get the job.

MONDAY It’s about time Rovers rang. I know they have to go through the pretence of interviewing people before they give me the job, but I’m getting a hard time sitting at home all day.

Mrs E wasn’t too happy about me knocking one off the wrist while the weathergirl was on TV. Don’t get me wrong, Mrs E is usually OK about my little habits - and she knows how I feel about Carol Kirkwood - but she seemed to think it was wrong to do it while her mother was in the room.

THURSDAY Doncaster bloody Rovers have appointed Darren bloody Ferguson.

Christ on a bike, the man wears mascara. Why would they appoint an overweight mascara wearing jock?

No worries. Louise Lear is doing the weather. Showtime!

JTM

WRITE FOR POPULAR STAND FANZINE

Got something to say about following the Rovers, or football in general?

We’re always looking for fans to share their experiences in the fanzine.

Get in touch with us at popularstand@outlook.com 19

BERNARD GLOVER’S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE STUCK FOR A CHRISTMAS GIFT FOR THE ROVERS FAN IN YOUR LIFE? WE’RE NOT ABOUT TO HELP 10-inch Mascot

‘Take home your owen Donny the Dog!’ states the official club website. All these years and I never knew Donny was actually his middle name. Good job really as Owen the Dog is a terrible name for a mascot; instead it sounds like you’re in debt to your pet.

Tactical T-shirt

This is a terrible t-shirt. Ebay is full of tat like this. Other gems include Eat Football, Sleep Football, Support Rovers and others along the lines of the club meaning more to you than your wife (never husband incidentally) and endless bastardisations of the Keep Calm poster, each more absurdly shit than the last, stretching the initial concept so far they reach a negative entendre. But this oen deserved special mention for its tactical flaws. Firstly, if you give the ball to Nathan Tyson straight from kick-off, he’s going to be around fifty yards from goal. Did he score? No, he was far too far out. Which means the ball is about to be hoofed back to halfway, where we will give it another go – as directed by the t-shirt – and this whole farce will play out again.

Also , in the highly unlikely event that Tyson does score from this approach, it’s going to be hard for us to kickoff, unless he’s elected to welly one into his own net to escape the tedium monotony of his t-shirt existence.

20

Celebration Gnome

Nothing says passionate joy like a porcelain garden ornament. But then I suppose it’s important to let nextdoor’s cat know who you support. Also, once you’ve noticed the sex-doll like appearance of the mouth you just can’t look this thing in the face.

Christmas Novelty Penguin

So many questions; Why a penguin?

What makes this Christmassy? Why is it surfing? Why is it wearing a hijab?

And who thought a surfing Muslim Christmas football penguins is what the club shop needed? Let’s take a moment to acknowledge that someone somewhere has had the bollocks to suggest this at a marketing meeting.

Possibly out of spite, most likely whilst drunk or high, someone has sat in a planning meeting and in a desperate attempt to join in has blurted out the words ‘surfing Muslim Christmas football penguin’. And after the initial stunned silence, they’ve had to hang onto their job by heroically styling it out enough to firstly convince the other people present that firstly, they are not drunk nor high, and secondly that they were in fact serious.

Miraculously they’ve gotten away with it, and the result is this. Thousands of hours of worthwhile production line time that could’ve been spent making genuinely useful inventions like wheelchairs or sporks, wasted churning out f***ing Christmas Novelty Penguins.

Stone Island Alarm Clock

21

We’ve all been there, lined up a hard day’s hooliganism, including a meet with some naughty boys where it could well go off, only to rub the sleep from our eyes and find that we’ve slept in and missed it all again. Well, fear not, no longer will you miss the opportunity to wear a goggle-hood whilst posturing in an alleyway for your mate’s instagram (hashtag away dayz, hashtag havin it). No, now you can rise and shine in good time to iron your best Burberry shirt with the aid of this delightful DDR alarm clock.

Alarm sounds as a distant police siren, the speaking clock is voiced by Danny Dyer ‘At the third stroke, it’ll be ten to fa**ing three you mug’.

GW

JACK’S CRAIC SCOTTISH MANAGERS - A THING OF THE PAST OR MAKING A COMEBACK? JACK PEAT TAKES A LOOK ‘It’s SHITE being Scottish!’

Rent-boy Renton screams across a vast tapestry of pristine Scottish wilderness.

‘We’re the lowest of the low, the most wretched, miserable, servile, pathetic trash that was ever shat into civilization. And ALL the fresh air in the world won’t make any fucking difference!’

And I don’t feel comfortable validating Steve Kean with ‘Premier League manager’ status, or Alex McLeish – now at Genk – either for that matter.

Paul Lambert scrapes through, let’s call it three and a half out of twenty.

Still ain’t bad.

And it’s far more than their paltry representation this year, where Norwich’s Alex Neil is the only Scotsman flying the St Andrew’s cross among football’s managerial elite.

Sir Alex Ferguson spends more time managing his whisky collection than he does booting hairdryers at overpaid fashion icons and his replacement David Moyes has perhaps now hit the bottle ‘n all after his unglorified departure from Real So So Bad.

Sometimes, not even the snowiest Cairngorm peak or the most glacial Loch can overcome the fact that for 95 per cent of residents, it can get quite grim being a Jock. As all the home nations and the Republic of Ireland head to the Euros in June it’s the Scots who will forgo sunny France for a wind battered sorry excuse for a summer at home, something a brisk walk in the wilderness will never remedy. Still politically strapped to Westminster and economically underperforming as a nation as a result there’s not much room for optimism. But there was a time, at least for football managers, when it wasn’t shite being Scottish.

A sad state of affairs for a nation that has produced such managerial luminaries as Sir Matt Busby, Bill Shankly and Jock Stein, particularly given that they have given way to a new crop of successful English managers – five at the time of writing, although I’m pretty sure Gary Monk is going to get the sack. I don’t feel overly patriotic about some inclusions on that list *cough Pardew* *cough Pardew*, but then the English have always been wankers. Scotland, on the other hand, are COLONISED by wankers. A rotten state of affairs by all accounts.

At their height, almost half of all Premier League football clubs had a Scottish manager in charge. Granted the inclusion of Owen Coyle - Scottishborn but capped by the Republic of Ireland through his Irish parents – is doubtful, but six in twenty isn’t bad.

22

But they’re tactically astute and understand how to manage a team of big personalities, a modernism that wouldn’t have been allowed to exist under the tenure of former Scottish greats.

So where did it all go wrong?

When Scottish managers were at their most dominant in the Premier League most commentators pinned their success on their rough and rugged Glaswegian upbringing in which managers like Owen Coyle, David Moyes and Sir Alex were exposed to hardship and had an appreciation of working-class values, a natural command and a passion for football and its ability to transform lives.

Lower down the leagues that isn’t the case. Rovers appointment of their second Scottish manager in as many seasons should rouse an air of optimism at the Keepmoat, for Paul Dickov has laid the foundations for what could be a very successful managerial spell for Darren Ferguson. Born in Glasgow and raised personally and professionally by his old man he has masterminded backto-back promotions for the Posh from League Two to the Championship. He favours flowing, attacking football with the ball on the ground and has shown his intent with the youth by letting Richard Wellens go out on loan to The Latics.

These managers, Kenny Dalglish et al included, instilled success by transferring their rich football heritage and intimate knowledge of the game to inspire the dressing room to achieve at all costs. They were observant, imaginative and persevered to grab a lone goal in the dead rubbers, thanks, above all, to their ability to communicate with booming authority.

That could be a move that defines his future at Rovers. When Ferguson first left Peterborough is former captain, Russell Martin, said the lads were ‘queuing up to see him. They wanted to thank him for what he had done for their careers.’ If Ferguson can instil the fiery Scottish passion and innate football know-how in to our crop of youngsters by nurturing the talent that evidently exists then we could undoubtedly be talking about another Scottish managerial talent in the making. He was unlucky at Preston and perhaps should have steered clear from the Posh second time around, but something tells me the conditions are ripe for him here at Rovers. It may be time for the Scots to reclaim some lost ground.

But these traits no longer command modern boot rooms filled with prima donnas playing in the Premier League. What do they know or care about working class strife, and how could they possibly be inspired by it to win away at Stoke on a cold Tuesday evening?

Today, with the exception of Jürgen Klopp who is well suited to Liverpool, most top flight managers have the personality of a wet mop. Louis Van Gal bores me to tears, Slaven Bilić is a genuinely depressing figure and Manuel Pellegrini is the embodiment of just about everything that is wrong with modern football.

JP

23

HOWARD’S MARKS YOUNG FREE AND SIMPLE? HOWARD BONNETT TAKES A LOOK AT THE MERITS OF YOUTH The last truly successful candidate to progress through the system was James Husband, before he was duly sold to Middlesbrough with Curtis Main as a make weight. You can insert your own gag at this point.

‘I coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody’ Terry Malloy - On the Waterfront Given Rovers have struggled at the start of their second season in League One, and with reduced attendances and smaller contributions by our board of directors, it appears the club will have to cut its cloth to avoid huge debt and push for promotion.

In our current squad of 26 players, of those players who have come through the youth system seven have seen first team action; Mitchell Lund, Jack McKay, Paul McKay, Liam Mandeville, Harry Middleto and Billy Whitehouse.

Of those only three are regularly considered – with Lund and Middleton gaining most starts to date – whilst Mandeville, Ben Askins and Paul McKay are all currently out on loan.

At a time when the gap between clubs in the lower two leagues and those in the Championship and Premier League is ever-increasing, it’s clear that now and in the future Rovers will have to manage their resources smartly.

Key to this is a youth system that feeds quality players into the team and squad who can play regularly, or alternatively be sold on for transfer fees. The chant ‘He’s one of our own’ whenever a local boy does good lifts the heart, but with ever pressing needs to reduce the wage bill and save on transfer fees it does beg the following question. Are other teams in our league more or less resourceful than us in bringing through young players?

Lund has found it hard to cement a position, with James Horsfield loaned in to cover as well as other options exercised, including a recent change to a back three where a traditional right back is not utilised, making a regular berth a tricky nut to crack. Middleton is putting in some impressive performances but is constantly fighting the pressure of more experienced players such as Richie Wellens, Paul Keegan, Richard Chaplow as well as loanee Oscar Gobern.

To get a handle on this I looked at three teams within the league; one at the top of the league, namely Walsall, one in the middle - Millwall - and ourselves.

On the whole Rovers have had limited success when it comes to bringing players through our youth system.

The position of Walsall is not that different to our own. The club, coached

by Richard O’Kelly and with a playing staff of 23, is built on a number of former non-league players as well as a number who have plied their trade at nearby West Bromwich Albion.

24

They also have three Rovers alumni in James O’Connor, James Baxendale and Milan Lalkovic.

As I write, statistics show Rovers to have used 23 players so far this season and have the highest average age of player at 29.5. This itself perhaps does not bode well for our younger players especially when you compare it to the average age of the Barnsley squad at just 23.5 years.

Walsall have eight players from their youth system within their squad with half having had some first team appearances to date. I suspect with a smaller playing staff their opportunity may present itself sooner rather than later. The Saddlers appear to follow a practice of signing and re-signing their young players on short term contracts, which suggests that they’ve some confidence they might make the grade.

Darren Ferguson has said he plans to be a ‘loan arranger’ and to get players such as Jack Mckay, Billy Whitehouse and Matty Davies to follow fellow youth teamers Liam Mandeville, Ben Askins and Paul Mckay out to nonleague clubs for experience. The future of our young players is not clear. Of our current crop I see real potential in Mitchell Lund and Harry Middleton, and from what I’ve seen of the others my suspicion is that most may not make the grade and may end up in non league plying their trade. I hope I am wrong.

Millwall’s playing staff may look to feature predominately experienced players but, of a playing staff of 29, they have 11 who’ve worked through their youth system. Of those however, only five have played senior league games with others getting action largely out on loan. Given their propensity to turn to other London clubs to bring in loan players who are scared of leaving the comforting embrace of the M25 it may be that the prospects of progress for Millwall’s own young men are slim as well. So this snapshot (and I accept it is not scientific) shows that our squad makeup is not so different from other teams.

I would truly love to see more youngsters come through Rovers youth team. However, I suppose you do sometimes have to ask - when things are tight, do you trust an experienced head - or chance your arm on the youngsters? Over to you Mr Ferguson...

HB

OVERHEARD AT THE FOOTBALL HEARD SOMETHING DAFT AT A GAME? WHY NOT SHARE IT WITH THE CLASS

VENUE Abbey Stadium, Cambridge United

VENUE Keepmoat Stadium, Doncaster Rovers

Rovers fan demanding a yellow card for a home player: ‘GET HIM IN YOUR JOTTERRRRR!’

Home supporter: ‘If he had a forehead on the end of his finger he’d have scored that.’

HEARD BY @glenglenglen

HEARD BY @dawsoooon

Overheard your own ridiculousness this season? Tweet it to us at @vivarovers 25

THE GARY BRABIN MEMORIAL LOUNGE JAMES McMAHON HAS GOT A LOT ON HIS MIND AND FOOTBALL, FOR ONCE, ISN’T HELPING At this point, I’d just like to apologise for the complete absence of nostalgic Rovers-centric pissing around that you might have come to expect from this column…

I’ve never been the kind of person to bury their head in the sand. For one thing, where I grew up, the closest beach was Cleethorpes, and that is not sand you want to be putting your head in - unless you want to come out with a third nostril or a mouthful of toxic slime. But what I mean by this, is that I’ve always found it nigh on impossible to switch off. I am constantly aware of what is going on around me. I am always plugged in. Always working.

Always thinking. I’ll be honest with you; it can be exhaust...

Over the years – normally at times it’s appeared I might be burning myself out - I’ve been clued in on the idea of self-preservation, by friends, family and loved ones. This is good advice; advice that I’ve trotted out myself when I’ve come across those similar to myself. This means eating right, sleeping enough, logging out of social media and embracing other interests.

Fittingly, years ago, football became the principal escape from my thinking.

Much of this stems from the emotional experience that is being a fan. Some of it might be to do with the idea of community too. And so, when I recall the moments of bottled lightning I’ve been lucky enough to be privy to when the jars have become unscrewed – Stoke in 2003, Wembley in 2008, Brentford in 2013 - those moments I don’t believe any other sport can produce like football can, I can assure you that I wasn’t thinking very much at all.

Sorry, I nodded off there.

These are fearful times. Recently, more and more each day in truth, I’ve thought that this is a world I wish I could retreat from. I cannot free myself from the daily news agenda of murder and suffering. I’m torn between wanting to know, and feeling like I should know. I feel I should be strong enough to look and read and listen. Like turning away or covering my ears and eyes would imply, not so much weakness, but a lack of empathy about the bleak place the world has wound up in. Stating the obvious, I’m human; I live on the surface of the human world. And so my thinking has always been that checking out implies a level of self-absorption I don’t feel is befitting my status of resident of the planet.

Yet distressingly, following Rovers, or groundhopping in general, isn’t having the effect it used to have. In fact, sometimes I feel that football is only serving to exacerbate these feelings.

26

Regular readers of this ‘zine, and indeed this column, will know I am something of an idealist, especially so when it comes to football. Some might call me a football hipster, but only because they don’t really understand.

See, my interest in football has always been two fold. On one hand, I just think it’s a fantastic game; like chess or Street Fighter 2. A simple game, one that can be played by almost everybody; a game that offers the most exciting permutations beyond any other. On the other, it being the world’s game; ‘the most important of the least important things’ as Carlo Ancelotti once put it, it’s a remarkable filter through which to view the world.

Look, I’m not a delicate flower, and football is a passionate pursuit. But I’m exhausted by passion, worse still ‘banter’, being used to justify spite.

Whether it’s southern teams fans singing about northern fans being on the breadline or fans of teams gloating about crisis clubs problems (and speaking of having your head in the sand, there’s some jousting with karma going on there, given we exist in times where, I’d guestimate, eight-six of English league clubs could face similar strife at any given time) there’s so much spite in the real world, I’m finding the abundance of it within football a hindrance to wanting much to do with it at all at the moment.

October this year. Shrewsbury away.

We have a new manager, one of some status. It appears he wants Rovers to attack often. He’s the most positive thinking manager we’ve had since Sean, that’s for sure. There is much to celebrate. And, while we leave it late, celebrate we do. Yet just before halftime, the Shrewsbury fans begin to sing song about Jimmy Saville at us – an odd chant that fans of most Yorkshire clubs have heard in the last year or two, suggesting the nations most blinged up wrong un was, during his grubby life, a fan of their club. Rovers fans retort with a song questioning the chromosome count of Shrewsbury youth. It’s been around a lot longer that one. And so it goes.

I want noisy, competitive football games to be present at – some of my favourite experiences within my football fandom, come from The Conference Years, where wit ruled supreme on the Belle Vue terraces and support rarely dimmed. And of course, if I truly believe that football is a mirror that faces society, there’s no wonder football grounds have become such distasteful places. But, I dunno, I still hope, if not now maybe believe, that football can be more.

Instead of the ugly pastime for an ugly world I’m starting to think that it may well be, I hope that the beautiful game might one day be truly so.

JM

BERNARD GLOVER’S

BELIEVE IT or NOT Notorious brothers David and Darren Esdaille were among the original line-up of garage, grime and hip-hop collective So Solid Crew 27

FROM BENEATH THE STATUE IN FOOTBALL, ON OCCASION, DREAMS CAN COME TRUE - AS EDITOR GLEN WILSON RECENTLY DISCOVERED ‘I don’t want to do it this way,’ said Ralph after news of Cyprus’ second goal had rippled through the away end of Zenica’s Bilino Polje Stadium.

It was understandable. A childhood of Roy of the Rovers has taught us that when football dreams come true, they do so through bicycle kicks, slaloming runs, or last minute volleys. That Wales’ greatest night in a generation was now being decided by a Cypriot full-back 1,500 miles away may not have been the climax we fantasised of, but it was still the realisation of a live long dream. I was, as Gareth Bale would later describe it, witnessing ‘the best loss of my life’.

For Wales fans on the soaking terrace in Zenica, the realisation of our qualification dream was confirmed for us, much like it was for those watching at home, by a Sky Sports reporter. As full-time approached, Wales correspondent and Welsh football fan Bryn Law stood in the corner beneath the travelling fans, headphones on, preparing to go on air. ‘Bryn Law what’s the score?’ we chanted, desperate to know if Cyprus had held out, and watched - for what seemed like an age, but was in fact just a few seconds - as the two and one he illustrated with his fingers slowly changed to clenched fists, which began punching the air.

They’d done it. We’d done it. Arms flailed; umbrellas twirled, hands pointed into the night sky. And then, on the pitch down in front of us news slowly filters through. In hindsight I’d wonder how Chris Coleman didn’t twig from the sight of 700 delirious Welshfolk alone, but there and then I was too lost in the moment, watching on as the manager received the news and strode back towards us; arms pumping, tieflapping, mouth roaring. We’d done it.

The players rushed and dived towards us; fans scaled the fence in joy, in a want to be even more part of all this.

The noise didn’t abate – the National Anthem, a Zombie Nation – and we sang, and we danced, and Joe Ledley danced more, and we jumped and yelled and hugged. Hundreds of miles from home, cold, soaked through, lost two nil… I wouldn’t have swapped it for anything else.

Ahead of the game we’d been warned that Zenica could be a hostile city.

Instead, through a combination of result and circumstance, it proved the perfect setting for celebration. Wales supporters were applauded out the stadium, not just by the fans remaining inside, but also by the residents of overlooking tower-blocks too. In the first bar we went to post-match every single patron shook our hand; in Club 072 we were greeted by a standing ovation from the regulars.

28

And once in there the night went on and on; the bar was supposed to close at midnight, we were still there after 4am. ‘You keep drinking, I keep open’ said the barman. It seemed a fair trade-off. We jumped and sang with the Bosnians, in the bar and out in the street. Ains was hoisted to the ceiling, Ade had his first beer in a decade.

From Andy Williams and Tom Jones, to the Marseilles it was relentless and endless, and all I’d ever wanted. Viva Gareth Bale, viva the barman, viva Bosnia.

I watched Wales 18 times before I experienced a win; as recently as 2012 I saw them concede six in Serbia.

This, and the many other stumbling defeats and frustrating draws that have framed Wales’ international football for the last fifty-seven years would suggest following our national team has up to now been a chore. This couldn’t be further from the truth. For decades Wales’ supporters have sought self-preservation in self-parody; the theme to our travels ‘We’ll never qualify’ to the tune of Those Were the Days. I’ve sung it in more than twenty countries across Europe, some have done so in twice as many. Travelling with Wales has never been about the football, how could it ever be?

There can and only ever will be one night like this. It’s hard to explain, but consider this. I am of reasoned enough mind to know that this is only football. I can lucidly state that Wales do not mean more to me than my family, or my girlfriend. And yet, I am fool enough to romance and escapism for all this to really and emphatically matter.

I’ve never really known what I want to do in life – never really known what I wanted to be. I’ve flitted from jobs and careers, I’ve cocked up relationships and so, knowing my own instability and unreliability, I’ve refrained from setting life goals to want or strive for.

But in football, a constant sideline, a detachment in which to escape from the confusion and the reality, there has always been one distant dream – Gatsby’s light at the end of the dock – Wales qualifying for a major tournament. It is the only target I’ve ever set out to see, the only eternal pursuit I’ve ever faced. To achieve that, to be there for it, to live it, it is the fulfilment of a lifelong dream. It is the greatest night of my life.

Instead, until this campaign, the joy has come from the experiences gained in European outposts. Everyone has a story, be it recreating great Wales goals from history with Moldovan border guards, being kicked in the back by Hristo Stoichkov, or acting as ball-boys and joining in the warmup at a Macedonian second division match. Most of those who have lived all this were there in Zenica, and once finally ushered out the stadium, in the tiny square behind the away end, hugged and cried with one another like long lost relatives. As the tears dried a Welsh song broke out, Yma o Hyd; despite everyone and everything we’re still here.

29

FROM BENEATH THE STATUE CONTINUED FROM PAGES 28 AND 29 The next day, a five and a half hour car journey to Belgrade offered plenty of time for reflection. Winding our way through mist-shrouded Bosnian mountains, my whole Wales watching life rolled by with every hairpin turn.

Teenage Kicks in Belgrade, spat at in the San Siro, empty nights echoing in the Millennium, losing a shoe celebrating in Teplice, the ten beer bet in Trnava, hating Sparta Prague in Vienna, that sandwich on the train from Podgorica, the Belgian techno, the Scottish snow. It was never about the football. Not even now.

Qualification, as joyous as it is once realised, changes everything. It will inevitably skew perceptions and expectations of the national team and it means that though I won’t change, watching Wales will never quite be the same again. The dream now is that those of us who’ve spent a lifetime being carried across the continent by the blind, desperate, stupid hope of following our country won’t discover in the years that follow Euro 2016, that the thrill was ultimately in the chase.

GW

30

MEMORABLE MEMORABILIA ANOTHER FAN’S FAVOURITE IS SUITABLY HONOURED AS STEPHEN LUMLEY CELEBRATES HIS FIRST HOOPED SHIRT So it was sometime in 2001, when I bought my favourite bit of merchandise - I was a 15-16 year old lad and I’d bought numerous football shirts before.

But this one was different. No one else had anything similar.

Having spent the previous season watching us in an awful red with navy blue number and the year before that in all white – for the 2001-02 season the fans spoke and decreed we should resurrect red and white hoops of years gone by. Very few British clubs wear hoops, in fact, so scarce are these clubs the two most famous, Celtic and QPR, are inventively nicknamed The Hoops!

Up and down the land, the vast majority of professional football clubs has one of their two main club colours as red, white or blue. So with Rovers sporting two of these British primary colours we hardly stand out from the crowd. Giant clubs, Manchester United, Liverpool and Arsenal are predominately red shirted with white trim. Large regional clubs, Southampton, Stoke and Sunderland host red and white stripes. So what could Rovers do to stand out?

And so we were different; we weren’t just another team with a standard kit that looks similar to everyone else’s.

The shirt itself was upon my shoulders at Stoke, and has joined the emotional rollercoaster we’ve had (mostly) up and down the leagues since. I’ve bought newer home shirts, but none have enjoyed the longevity of my original red and white hooped shirt; frankly, none have stood the test of time. There is something simply classic about the shirt and it pleases me that this season’s shirt is very similar – we’ve returned to chunky hoops once , again (although more white and red than red and white).

Throughout the years Rovers have gone through innumerate combinations and designs of red and white. A quick glance at the Historical Kits website shows the variety Rovers have gone through in the 136 years we’ve been on this planet. Red and white halves, plain red, plain white, red and white stripes, Red with a white ‘V’ – you get the gist.

Maybe it’s just me, but I just felt the shirt of 2001-02, at a significant time in our history brought us a new identity and gave our club individuality. Heroes in Hoops, Rovers rose again.

31

SL

MARSHALL MATTERS ROB MARSHALL GIVES RECOGNITION TO THE MAN WHO IS NOW ROVERS’ SECOND HIGHEST APPEARANCE MAKER Praise has been rightly pouring in from all angles recently towards our newly crowned record appearance maker. ‘Top man’ and ‘true professional’ are the reoccurring theme when it rightly comes to extolling the virtues of James Coppinger and the 11 years service he has provided to the club, offering delight to those of us who have sought value for our money on the terraces.

Whilst immersing myself in memories of the new record holder, I couldn’t help but enjoy a thought or two remembering the previous incumbent in the post, who at a glance may be something of a contrast to the Rovers number 26.

Colin Douglas made 468 appearances for the club between 1981 and 1993 and, like Coppinger, he was nearly always one of the first names on the team sheet. I say nearly always as there were the odd occasion that the Scot’s off-field antics would make his selection something of a problem, or so the lore of ‘Duggie’ would suggest. Legend has it Duggie considered the best way to prepare for a mid-week away fixture was to spend the early part of the day visiting some of the local businesses within Doncaster town centre.

Unfortunately, rumour has it that each of these businesses were equipped with a licence to sell alcohol for consumption on the premises, so it is perhaps unsurprising (even with Duggie’s experience in the field) that when he arrived to board the team coach several hours later he was in a rather intoxicated state.

Despite his teammates best attempts to hide him from the management staff and sober him up, his merriment could not be disguised for the whole journey and he was immediately dropped from the team.

By all accounts Mr Douglas did not warm to this decision and spent the 90 minutes of the game topping up his alcohol levels whilst voicing his displeasure towards the manager, one Dave Cusack, from the stands before taking the opportunity afforded by the coach ride home to continue his loud critique of both the manager and the club’s directors.

It is most likely coincidence that Duggie ‘could not agree a new contract’ with the club shortly afterwards and set off for a two year sabbatical at Rotherham United in 1986.

32

Duggie had the ability to hold his own in a team which boasted Ian and Glynn Snodin, David Harle, Steve Lister and Glenn Humphries.

Had it not been for his overzealous commitment to giving something back to the town’s licensees he surely would have remained at the club, and those 80 odd appearances he made for the Millers would have put him out of sight at the Rovers and most likely meant that no one, even James Coppinger, would ever have scaled such numbers.

His second spell at the club was set against a backdrop of financial insecurity off the pitch proving the catalyst for mediocrity on the playing surface. However, through it all his never say die attitude and commitment to the cause was always evident.

His eventual return to the club in 1988 following the departure of the presumably over sensitive Mr Cusack meant he was able to continue where he left off, immediately reinstalling himself as a cult hero on the terraces (and in the pubs) of Doncaster.

I recall even now, central defender Duggie straining every sinew to get his head on a cross which he had no right to win, only for the ball to slip off the top of his head and past a bemused Mark Samways in goal.

That incident probably best sums up those days of the early 90s – somehow defeat was always snatched from the jaws of victory.

Colin Douglas was instantly recognisable on the football field for his unusual gait and strange running style, as well as his perpetually red face and pained expression, however his most obvious trait was that of his constant and unwavering commitment.

His reputation for excess off the pitch meant that compliments like ‘top pro’ might not always be handed out to the likes of Duggie as comfortably as they have been to James Coppinger, though had Coppinger been able to ally his talent alongside the desire of Colin Douglas, I doubt whether he would’ve gone unnoticed by bigger clubs than ours for so long and wouldn’t have played so many times in a Rovers shirt.

Whether upfront, right back or centre half, Duggie covered most inches on the massive and immaculate Belle Vue surface. If the occasion dictated it, Duggie would have run all day for the cause, including straight through the mythical brick wall. Despite what he put his body through off the pitch he was peerless on it in terms of physical effort and endeavour.

I feel fortunate to have seen them both play, their differences as stark as their similarities. Duggie may now be second on the appearance list, but as a legend of the club he can rightly stand shoulder to shoulder with anyone.

His first spell as youngster, newly recruited from Celtic, coincided with one of the clubs most successful periods, his goals crucial as the side were runners up in the league in 1984 and an important member of the team who knocked top flight QPR out of the FA Cup a year later.

RM 33

WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND WHO BETTER TO PUT JAMES COPPINGER’S APPEARANCE RECORD INTO CONTEXT THAN DUTCH UNCLE? A few years ago, during our first season in the Championship I took my wife to the Keepmoat when we were over from the Netherlands for a short holiday. Although not a football fan she enjoyed the experience, was particularly impressed by the noise made by a loud group of away fans, yet was thoroughly confused as to why the home fans were always shouting for the police. Even in 2008 I had to explain the very special relationship between Rovers fans and James ‘Copps’ Coppinger.

So I think it is impossible to let this season progress any further without paying due homage to the magnificent contributions to the club of James Coppinger, as he breaks club records and makes new ones of his own. Some of the stats below have appeared in earlier fanzine issues and elsewhere, but I believe they deserve to be updated, set out in full and celebrated.

He first wore the Rovers number 26 shirt as far back as 14 August 2004 when he made his debut for Rovers in a Football League One match at Valley Parade against Bradford City.

For the record we lost 0-2 and Adriano Rigoglioso was shown a red card.

Not many have worn Rovers shirt number 26. It was first worn in the 2002-03 season, firstly once by Jon McCarthy, followed by four times by Greg Blundell.

The following season it was worn 22 times by Chris Brown, making a total of only 27 outings for the shirt before James took it over in 2004.

Since then Coppinger has worn the shirt in 414 league and 59 other matches for a total of 473 appearances, and he is now of course top of the list of all-time Rovers appearances (in all competitions) ahead of Colin Douglas with 468, Fred Emery on 438, and Bert Tindill on 429.

Coppinger still needs a few more league appearances to overtake Rovers record of most league appearances, held since before the Second World War by Fred Emery who has 417.

For now he is second in that list, just ahead of Douglas with 404 and Tindill with 401.

Although do note that I have not included the three play-off games in 2008 as league appearances, instead I have taken the same line as my main data sources, namely the Rothmans/ Sky Football Annuals and the Official Rovers History by Tony Bluff, both of which count those games as ‘other’ appearances.

One consequence of Coppinger’s longevity is that the time between his first goal for Rovers (26 November 2005) and his last (20 October 2015) is a whopping 3,616 days, putting him 7th on the all time Rovers list.

34

However, he is not even the highest wearer of the number 26 shirt on that list – Chris Brown is 5th with 3,843 days between first and last goals.

Above Brown are Alan Warboys on 5,719 days, Alick Jeffrey on 5,068; Colin Douglas on 4,141; and David Harle on 4,005. Whilst Bert Tindill sits between Brown and Coppinger with 3,802 days between his goals.

Coppinger surprisingly did not score a single goal in his first season with us, but has scored in each of the last 11 seasons – a record beaten by only Bert Tindill who scored in each of his 12 league seasons.

Coppinger has scored 49 goals for the club so far - if we credit him with the second Rovers goal against Wigan at the Keepmoat in 2013-14 (a goal also claimed by Richie Wellens).

Of course if local cup competitions were counted Glynn Snodin’s 2,689 days extends to 7,990 days courtesy of his Sheffield & Hallamshire Cup goal in 1999.

These 49 goals are spread over five competitions with 22 scored in the Championship, 20 in League One, one in the FA Cup, three in the League Cup and finally the memorable hattrick against Southend in the League One play-offs in 2008. Those 49 goals have been scored against a total of 38 different teams, with Southend seemingly his favourite opponents, being on the receiving end of four of them. Just behind them are Barnsley and Norwich against each of which he has struck three times, and Crewe, Millwall, Oldham and Portsmouth against whom he’s scored twice.

Coppinger has now played for Rovers in 12 consecutive league seasons. This has been equalled by only two players, Fred Emery (1924-25 to 1935-36) and Bert Tindill (1946-47 to 1957-58). Bert Tindill did actually play in an FA Cup match in 1945-46 – but there was no Football League that season, only wartime leagues.

These 49 goals put Coppinger 17th on the club’s list of all time goalscorers in. He is just behind players of the stature of Clarrie Jordan (Rovers record scorer in one season) and Ron Walker on 50, and just ahead of Kit Lawlor and Laurie Sheffield on 48. However, unsurprisingly for a midfielder, he is a long way behind Rovers most successful strikers; Tom Keetley with 186 goals, Alick Jeffrey with 139, Bert Tindill with 133 and Peter Kitchen with 105. However, it is worth noting that only one of Coppinger’s 49 has been a penalty.

35

WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND CONTINUED FROM PAGES 34 AND 35 Coppinger has never been the club’s leading goalscorer in a season, and only Stan ‘Dizzy’ Burton, with 54 between 1932 and 1938, has scored more goals for the club without leading the goalscoring charts for a campaign.

DUTCH UNCLE’S TEASER Sixteen different players netted those 61 penalties scored by Rovers during Coppinger’s time here. Who were they?

Answer at foot of page 37

Unusually, for a player who has scored two hat-tricks, Coppinger didn’t end a game with two goals until his tenth season with us – when he notched a brace at home to Barnsley in 2014.

In Rovers history, 98 hat-tricks have been scored for the club; Coppinger has struck two of these – placing him some way beneath the top hat-trick hero Tom Keetley who can claim 15 of them. However, with Coppinger’s trios coming in the Championship (against Norwich) and the League One playoffs he is a member of a select group of just seven players to have scored hat-tricks for Rovers in separate competitions.

One final irony is the identity of Coppinger’s most frequent opponents - Nottingham Forest. During his stay with Rovers James played every single time the two clubs met; 16 league matches and a League Cup tie in 2004-05. The irony lies with his six appearances on loan for the very same club in 2012-13 - the only time he has played for anyone else during the last 12 years. By coincidence Coppinger’s only penalty scored for Rovers was against Forest at Belle Vue in 2006.

The others are Peter Kitchen (two in Division 4, one in the League Cup), Peter Doherty (two in Division 2, one in Division 3 North), Reg Baines (one each in Division 2 and Division 3 North), Brendan O’Callaghan (one each in Division 4 and the League Cup), the easily forgotten Trevor Ogden (one each in Division 3 and Division 4), and Alick Jeffrey (one in Division 2, one in Division 3 and four in Division 4) - the only Rovers player to score a hat-trick for Rovers at three different league levels.

Ahead of the Stalybridge Celtic match, in which James made his record breaking 469th appearance, editor Glen Wilson put together a wonderful graphical picture of all the players who had played alongside Coppinger in a for Rovers up to that point, with the total number set at 187. In an analytic approach any statistician would admire, Glen has since made the colourful point that the 187 could have been higher but for the fact that two players had played as substitutes in matches in which Coppinger has featured, but never actually played alongside him, namely Adam Brown and Liam Green. Brown in particular twice came on for James, but was never on the pitch at the same time.

During his time at Rovers, the team have scored 62 penalty goals - 48 in the league and 14 in other competitions. So theoretically if James had played in all those games, taken all those penalties, and been equally successful, he could have scored 61 more goals for a total of 110.

36

In that Stalybridge game Felipe Mattioni became Coppinger’s 188th team-mate, and in the following game Craig Alcock became his 189th.

Maybe a hyperactive January transfer window might push this number towards a magical 200, which I would suggest has probably never been achieved by any Rovers player before.

Given the use of larger squads these days, more loan players, and thus higher turnover of players Coppinger will surely be way out on his own in this respect.

So as a rather bizarre final tribute I have tried to choose two all time Rovers teams with a ‘Copps’ related theme.

The first XI is a professional team in the true sense of the word. Taking ‘Cops’ as James Coppinger’s profession, how about the following team: Fred Potter Dave Carver Brian Taylor Andy Butler Terry Cooper Copps John Ost(l)er John Spicer Ian Miller Bruce Dyer Don Page; Substitutes Ben Smith; Lee Fowler; Dean Fur-man; Tony Coleman; Gareth Taylor; Andy or Mike Turner; Tommy Wright; Manager/Coach Frank Marshall The second team, with one eye on ‘Copse’ time at Nottingham Forest, is one related to trees: Gary Woods Kevin Ashley Jack Ashurst Adam Lockwood Chris Beech Copps Paul Birch Martin Woods Harry Forrester Glen Kirkwood Tony Woodcock Substitutes Neil Woods; George Berry, John Flowers, Arthur Ashmore, David Cork, Joe Dubois. Billy Stubbs Manager Neil Redfearn

BW

Caveat - no figures quoted in this article are official. Dutch Uncle uses many sources including club handbooks, Rothmans/Sky annuals, and best of all The Official Rovers History by Bluff & Watson.

For definitive data the reader is referred to Tony Bluff and/or Barry Watson.

DUTCH UNCLE’S TEASER ANSWER Michael McIndoe 12; Paul Heffernan 7; Billy Sharp 7; Brian Stock 7 ; Nathan Tyson 6; Chris Brown 5; James Hayter 3; Billy Paynter 3; El Hadji Diouf 2; Andy Williams 2; Martin Woods 2; Lewis Guy 1; Curtis Main 1; Ross McCormack 1; Theo Robinson 1; Dean Shiels 1 37

REG IPSA: LEGAL BEAGLE FIRST LOVE LUMBERED YOU WITH AN UNWANTED FRUIT TREE WITH A BIRD WEDGED IN IT? CALL REG IPSA THUNDERBALL Dear Reg, Whilst playing in the Donny Sunday League the other week I took a football to the nethers. It’s still throbbing and my voice is really high pitched, something the others in the library I work at think is hysterical. Can I sue for some compo?

Pat Plums Stainforth

REG RESPONDS You can’t sue me old love - Volenti non fit injuria - means you volunteered to the risk of a kick in the plums.

If it’s still throbbing in two week try your hand at the karaoke at the Red Lion. You should be able to knock out that new James Bond theme quite nicely. If it’s still giving you trouble next week then try your hand as an Aled Jones tribute-act with some ‘Walking in the air’.

THE PANT ON MENACE Dear Reg, My other half is madly awaiting the release of the new Star Wars film. To keep the peace ‘til then I agreed to get dressed up in a bikini like Princess Leia. I look a right state and my plums keep hanging out the bottoms. Meanwhile she keeps slashing a spare kitchen light bulb about as Hans Solo and has taken out the dressing table.

And to make matters worse, now the other lads in the South Stand found about it and are taking the mick. I’m fuming. Any suggestions?

PARTY TOME Dear Reg, I’ve not long started working down at the Keepmoat Stadium.

It’s been going grand so far, and now I’ve been invited to the Christmas party.

Sounds good I know, but at my last firm I got absolutely trollied at the Christmas bash.

I followed through, made inappropriate passes at most of the ladies and woke up in the stationary cupboard covered in post-its. I’m worried that I might do the same this year. Can you give my any advice?

Jerry Jerry Binks Mexborough

Frank Furt, Bentley

REG RESPONDS

REG RESPONDS

I’m not sure on this one Jerry, sounds like it’s outside my limited expertise and there’s not a lot I can do here.

May the force be with you.

Cannot see anything wrong there Frank.

Sounds like a bloody belting Christmas night to me. Knock yourself out son.

38

HB