It’s won awards you know.
Howdy. People will be aware that myself and Mrs X are currently stuck somewhere between London and Manchester as the great move carries on ad in finitum. As a result, today I had to go and look for a car, thus cutting into my valuable blogging time, before I went to work. As a result, I could mention Mr Vinegar saying that The Arse aren`t going to buy a defender come January, good news I think you`ll agree, not that anyone was going anywhere anyway. I could speak about SuperKev`s desire to stay at the club until the end of his career or the fact that they had to train at the ground due to the inclement weather. I could even mention Tony Kelly speaking about the fans being the “12th man”. But that would take too long.
So, as you know if you look at the official site, the club has been awarded the “prestigious” Spectator Sports Ground of the Year, beating off stiff competition. The prize is awarded for “effective use of resources, presentation and housekeeping standards, as well as environmental considerations”. I have no idea what any of this means, but I`m sure the trophy is looking very nice on Phil Gartside`s sideboard. Therefore, in what can be called “one I prepared earlier”, here is a love letter to The Reebok.
Some call it the worst ground that they have ever been to, situated as it is in the middle of a retail park, under a hill whose very name suggests the worst of the weather. Some call it The Breezeblock, due to the fact that it isn`t yet fifteen years old and was made to modern specifications. Some say it lacks soul, not having the history to make grown men weep when they remember the glory days when they were hoisted on their fathers shoulders to watch the team win promotion. Some say it`s not, nor will it ever be, Burnden Park, surrounded by houses full of local supporters who could be back in time for liver and onions by the time the last fan had left the ground, waiting for The Green ‘Un to land on their doormat.
Well, the last bit may be true. History makes itself, and since 1997 the ground has seen things that Burnden never would. European teams playing there on a regular basis, and not just the best that Moldova have to offer. Teams like Marseille, Athletico Madrid and Sporting Lisbon have all run out of the opposition tunnel. Yes, it has an opposition tunnel, which is a lot better than the rat run they come out of at Goodison.
It may well look like a modern construct, but when you are travelling north up the M61, regardless of whether you are going to the match or Botany Bay, you can see it from five miles away, dominating the skyline, looking for all the world like a Premier League ground, which it has been for twelve seasons of its short life. There may be bigger stadiums, like the so called “Theatre of Dreams” stuck on the edge of an industrial estate in the middle of Manchester, but none are surrounded by the beauty of the hills of South Lancashire like ours is.
And what do you get when you arrive at the ground. You can eat at numerous restaurants, grab a coffee, pick up your medicine from Boots or get some clothes from M&S. The nearest that Arsenal have to offer is a packet of crisps in The Drayton Arms or a burger from near Highbury tube station. Spurs don`t even have a tube station. And when they build their new stadium, they still won`t have a tube station.
The club have recently even done us the favour of reminding us what Burnden looked like after we moved out, by boarding up the windows of the old ticket office after the move into “Bolton Central”. A little bit of history repeating itself in our tenth straight season in the top flight. Whether travellers will move in is yet to be seen.
Some say that it is quiet inside the ground, to which I say that 25,000 silent fans are less silent than 75,000 silent fans who have a silence so silent it`s almost defeaning. But when those 25,000 fans get behind their team, as they do on a regular basis, they are louder than 75,000 visitors from Kent. Sure, we haven`t got any songs singing about the past and when “King Kenny played”. We don`t need the past. We have now. We have the best young manager in the league, untainted by the ravages of alcohol and mistresses and owners who demand success straight away or you`ll be replaced with Jose Mourinho.
When we queue for food and drink, the club make sure that we form an orderly line, not a scrum in which only the strong survive. The stewards, even those who tell you off for taking a photo of the club`s mascots, do their job with a smile. When they frisk your rucksack and see you only have coffee, they remember you, although that may be something to do with Mrs X Snr being the only person who brings coffee in. And so what if they let the away fans stand up. That shows just how friendly we are. If they want to take advantage of that and see their ticket allocation go down the following season, that is entirely up to them.
So when people have a go at the only target that they can now throw at Bolton Wanderers, the fact that the ground is in Horwich (a part of Bolton), you can now tell them, on top of all the above, that our ground wins awards and that we now have a use for the trophy cabinet. Then point them in the direction of Asda.