BOSWORTH EXPLAINED
This occasional section title arrived, as with many of the best things in life, totally by accident, after an email exchange between John Baker and myself, before he made his recent trip to our shores. I was doing my bit to try and make John’s sojourn as pleasant as possible and to ensure his Blues trip to see the last home game against Liverpool would be a true day to remember for him. John asked for a few things which would have been a stretch – amongst them a photo opportunity with the late, great Trevor Hockey, one of John’s Blues heroes. My reply included a statement that I was “unsure I could arrange his return ‘from beyond the far post’ so to speak” and the phrase struck a chord.

Now, it would be nice to include “interviews” from the legendary ranks of Blues’ departed (from this mortal coil, not just the club) and you never know what might turn up in the future, when the river of thoughts runs dry - which may not take long at all, but right now, my meanderings where Blues are concerned are flowing swiftly and a bucket lowered into the torrent will quickly fill with a mixture of topics.

OFF T'UT ROVERS LAHK
The 2003/4 season finished off with a trip to Blackburn and a return to the party atmosphere of years gone by. Blues fans are not alone in the activities of the last day away spectacular, where fancy dress, a larger than usual following and mass consumption of beer are the norm, but as any fan will tell you, this last day syndrome can only truly be celebrated when you have nothing riding on the match – no issues of promotion, relegation, late qualification for the play-offs, or even Europe, to contend with. When any of those aspects abound, there is always the familiar group tension that pervades as the adrenaline kicks in. 

Back in 2002/3, at the end of our Premiership debut season, we were at home on the last day against West Ham and most Blues fans were fervently wishing we would send the Cockney Blighters into the Nationwide League – the media had just about, to a man jack, condemned Bolton as being the ones who should go down and were united (!) in their forlorn hope that Middlesboro would triumph at The Reebok and the oafs of Birmingham would let the mighty Hammers win at St A’s. Consequently, we felt we had something to play for and the delight of the day was at the expense of the team who play in the pink and baby blue colours reminiscent of the trash from Witton.

This season, none of that – The Yorkshire troop were mostly across early and the knowledge that 4000+ Blues fans were on their way, plus past experience of the area had resulted in word being passed round that a pub down the road in Darwen would be better sought out than either of the two ‘away’ pubs located near the ground, which may be big, but nothing like large enough for the thirsty following that would descend upon them.

The British Queen hostelry in Darwen was chosen as the haunt for the day – in all honesty, it was the first pub I found that was open, as many landlords in Darwen stay shut until noon, for some reason. The BQ landlord was quizzed on his match day clientele selection process and when it transpired he had none (“Nay, lad, we darn’t get much custom on a Saturday – tha’s all welcome”) phone calls ensued to Yorkshire travelers and plenty from Brum, who descended on the pub in droves and gave the poor chap his busiest day’s trading for years. Unfortunately, early imploring of him to at least get a barmaid in to help out fell on deaf ears, so glass collecting was undertaken by those in Blues shirts, with the worst of the wait reserved for those occasions when he had to get down into the cellar to change an empty barrel for a full one. No food available, but who needs food before the game starts?

Whilst our mentis was still fairly compos, we decided to catch the local bus to the ground, but got off near The Fernhurst, as five minutes on a bus without beer is enough for anyone. As it was close to kick off time, there was no queue at the bar and a quick one slid down the hatch. We still managed to get into our seats for 3:02pm and 90 minutes later, we had apparently drawn 1-1. Oh, no food available at the ground to mop up some of that ale. Half time saw a much-needed(?) pint take the place of solid sustenance.

After the match, off home we all headed – I had the added incentive of having been asked to stay out as long as possible by ‘er indoors, as my house was hosting the daughter’s hen night party. Having swapped drivers from “Roddy from Doncaster” to “Dave from Bradford”, I found myself in the car with Darren Pitt, who was returning to Baildon to meet his pregnant fiancée and his mother, for a quiet night at a restaurant and a drink or two. Darren felt we needed to get the evening off to a good start, as he wouldn’t be able to get away with having a lot in their company, so we stopped in Haworth for a couple. Dave then dropped us in Shipley, where the two ladies were waiting for Darren. Duly invited to join them for food, we got a round in and discovered it would take 90 minutes to get served (sound familiar?) We went off to a famed curry house in Baildon, The Rupali and ordered some grub. Oh, they served draft beers too, so a couple more went down well-oiled throats.

On leaving, the pub over the road seemed to call our names and we popped in to discover there was a ‘band’ playing – consisting of a chap with one of those organs that plays like piano, guitar, anything you like, plus a rather fetching blonde singer in short black leather dress. “Keep Right On” was constantly belted out whilst we were present, although she had the upper hand with a powerful microphone and drowned us out. During this period, the ladies decided to go and sit down, some way from where we were performing our admittedly limited repertoire. Darren eventually put his pint down carefully before sliding down the wall and declaring the evening a roaring success, that he now needed to be over. Amazingly, Nicola gave me a lift home AND invited me to come to their wedding – Mauritius, Dec 2005, although we do have to pay our own way.

At home, there were a number of young ladies clad in black cocktail dresses (which must be this year’s black) plus a few in other colours. I snuck down to the rear of the house and peered in through the open patio doors. It suddenly seemed like a good idea to dance to the music that was blaring out – anyone who knows me will immediately realise I was very, very drunk, as dancing is not something I ‘do’. I am informed it was midnight at this point – they carried on their party until the last person left at 2am. I sat down on a sofa for a brief rest, opened my eyes at 7am and went to bed.

A fan-tastic day out.

Anyway, on to Blues…

TRANSFERS PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE, THE STEVIE BRUCE ERA AND ALL
It is certainly interesting to note that some people have dared to criticise our recent transfer activity, resulting in the successful signature of Emile Heskey as a Blues player from the start of the 2004/5 season. This is a move that would not have been entertained by Heskey in 02/03 or 03/04 – Birmingham City signing the current England centre forward? Surely not. 

Now, Heskey has had his critics along the way, that is certain – but he has never played with anyone who has done anything other than praise his effort, skill, attitude, work-rate. He has a goals per game record of 0.26, so 1 in 4, which is argued is not enough for a striker. Alan Smith, of Leeds, who have gone down this season, has a strike rate of 0.23, yet the British Press would have you believe he is a prolific young marksman.

Heskey is only 26, cost Liverpool £11 million from Leicester and when he first joined them, was played up the middle as a traditional centre forward. I remember he seemed to score loads that season, which he had never done at Leicester. Liverpool decided to play him wide right – a strange decision. I think we may have executed a real coup in getting him to sign for us. Regardless of our positive or negative opinions, Blues fans will unite behind him when he pulls the royal blue shirt over his head.

The criticism is interesting for another reason – can anyone honestly say they were impressed with Barry Fry’s constant signing of journeymen footballers in his tenure? I don’t think so, yet he got very little criticism; perhaps because no-one had as much enthusiasm as at the current time, or the rest of the football world didn’t notice our activity in those days, or simply didn’t care.

Remember the eyebrows raised in excitement and anticipation when Trevor Francis returned as manager and lined up five new players for the start of his first season in charge? All seasoned veterans with vast experience at the top level, none of which we would have guessed at in the annual close season game of “transfer rumours”. 
Those players were:

Gary Ablett
Barry Horne
Steve Bruce
Mike Newell
Paul Furlong

All were better than we had in the side at the time, by some way. As is always the case, their fortunes differed widely. Newell is regarded by the majority of Blues fans as a real waste of a contract and his attitude in his brief stay was pathetic. Ablett and Horne added solidity although injury and age told for them in the end. Furlong stayed around and did something not many Blues forwards have managed over the years – he scored more than 50 goals for us. Towards the end of his time, he suffered horrendous injuries and was unfairly tagged as a lazy player by some, who only wanted to play in the sunshine. His recovery and continuing proficiency in front of goal for QPR is pleasing to behold.

Finally, Steve Bruce. If Trevor Francis were to be remembered for one thing and one thing alone as our manager, it should be for tempting Steve Bruce to join us from Man Utd. That move meant he got to know the directors of the club, the fans and to develop an affinity with our club, seeing as many do, the vast potential that smoldered beneath the surface.

We paid Bruce £7,000 a week wages, plus £10,000 a week for the first two years, to buy out his expectation of a £1 million testimonial payout at Old Trafford. Conveniently forgotten is the fact that as soon as he had that final £10,000, he buggered off to cut his teeth in management. It was also after SB’s time as a player with us that TF led us into the play offs each year, falling short at the SF stage each time until Bruce returned to complete the job.

Steve Bruce’s managerial talents got us into the Premiership – he would be amongst the first to admit he was not expecting it to happen in that first half-season in charge, which can be proved by looking at some of the signings he was making – obviously designed for at least a further year in the Nationwide League. However, for once in our history, we had Lady Luck on our side and we scraped into the play offs as the team in form. The rest of that tale can be shortened to mention of Darren Carter’s successful penalty at The Millennium Stadium, Cardiff – appropriate indeed for a working class men’s team to be elevated alongside the elite by a local son.

And now, here we are, debating whether England’s current first choice centre forward is good enough to lead our line. Expectation levels must have gone through the roof at St Andrew’s for that to be true. Will this return to bite us, as the demand for success will presumably never stop until the Treble is done two seasons on the trot – and face it, that is not what supporting the Blues is about. 
This season has only just finished and I have to admit, I’m always a little relieved when the end of another campaign is reached, because travelling to watch Blues from Leeds each week does get tiring as the months go by and the miles accumulate. While that sense of relief holds true even now, I am already gripped with the desire to see next season kick off – Heskey and Forssell together up front… I can hardly wait. 

Who else will be in the side? Current targets include Danny Mills at right back, with the failsafe of Mario Melchiot if Mills’ holds out for his enormous salary, or a preferred move to Newcastle. So, an England right back, or a Dutch one? Both players have their detractors, as well as their champions. I would love to see Mills playing for us, but I think it unlikely.

Muzzy Izzet from Leicester is already ours, but it still hasn’t been confirmed. He had most assists in the Premier League last term (and wasn’t it Stan Lazaridis the previous season?)

Jesper Gronkjaer, the flying winger, whose crossing accuracy is intermittent, to be kind (so is Stan’s). He seems to be playing a “come and get me” game, not wanting to sign until after Euro 2004, presumably to put himself on show to others who may have already qualified for European competition next season. Beggars and choosers, eh?

Julian Gray of Crystal Palace was leaked to me by a senior club official a while ago over a beer. He is ours unless Palace get promotion via the playoffs. As they are playing West Ham in the final, our loyalties will be divided, as I for one would rather not see WHU make an immediate return to the top echelons of the game, for many of the reasons that applied to wishing them relegated at the end of last season. If Palace come up, our former player Andrew “AJ” Johnson will be put to the Premier League goal scoring test – will he make the grade? His predecessor, Clinton Morrison has not, unfortunately for us. Also, we will get to pour scorn upon Simon Jordan, Palace’s ridiculously egotistical chairman. That will be nice. I’m happy enough that we lose out on Gray – he’s only on a week to week contract with Palace, so he might end up signing for us anyway.

There is also a secret player (unless Blues’ Board are still playing the “guess who we’re signing?” charade of old). Hypotheses abound – often including Nicky Butt, who may well be on his way out on Old Trafford and who was linked strongly with us at the last January transfer window. Another England international?

To think we could conceivably end up with Mills, Upson, Butt and Heskey in our side, with Upson as the least likely to get the call up, unless his distribution improves. 

BOZ . . . A HEALTH UPDATE
Has the world gone mad? Have I been run over by a truck and this is all a figment of my imagination, while in reality I am attached to a drip, fussed over less and less by a bevy of nurses and doctors, as my condition deteriorates. If it is, I can confirm that the mind works in mysterious ways and helps to settle the soul before the journey to wherever I am bound. Following this line of reasoning, the dream is getting better while my health worsens – will I become such a lost cause that we win the FA Cup, the League, then a European competition? If so, I could get used to this. Turn the saline drip up a little, love, the season’s about to kick off and you know I need my vitamins to keep my strength up for this campaign.

Come on you Blues!