popular STAND 88 by popular STAND fanzine

EDITORIAL You just don’t expect a team – any team, never mind your own – to secure promotion before the Easter weekend. I certainly didn’t anyway. Which is why, as the South Stand streamed onto the pitch following the 1-0 win over Mansfield, I was not only not there, but the best part of three and a half thousand miles away, and completely oblivious. It’s all my own fault… I’d vetoed going away in May with the play-offs in mind… hoisted by my own pessimism yet again.

That was certainly evident for me at Wycombe, where, having missed the promotion celebrations, I felt like I’d pitched up at house party at 3am – the truly good times had been had without me, and whilst some were hanging on, the majority were starting the comedown. Perhaps that comes down to expectation too. This is the club’s fifth promotion in fourteen years; I remember all of them fondly and clearly, and this is the first where, from the very start of the season, promotion was an expectation, a demand even, rather than an aspiration. Whilst all at the club of course deserve great credit for meeting that weighty expectation, it does to a degree downplay the achievement. This promotion certainly can’t match up with to the sense of relief of 2003, nor the unexpected joy of 2004; the pride (and hilarity of beating Leeds) of 2008, nor the sheer, utter madness of 2013.

Going up barely a week into April is impressively early – and you can get a sense of just how early in John Coyle’s Voice of the Pop Side on pages 22-33 – but such success can have its downsides. The problem with securing promotion so soon is that there is still a hell of a lot of football to be played between that euphoria, and the season’s end. And if results don’t go for you in that time then the last few weeks can seem somewhat anticlimactic.

INSIDE THIS ISSUE 5 9 10 12 14 16 17 18 20 22

The Bernard Glover Diaries Go Away! Howard’s Marks The Boy Done Good Lazarus Comes Forth On Falling for Rovers Remembering the First Time Marshall Matters Jack the Miner’s Coal Face Voice of the Pop Side

24 26 28 29 30 32 34 36 38 39

For Peat’s Sake Waugh, Huh, Yeah The Belles, The Belles Memorable Memorabilia Growing Up in the 90s Beneath the Statue Gary Brabin Memorial Lounge Windmills of Your Mind Reg Ipsa; Legal Beagle Trump on Rovers

I have, in this fanzine and beyond, always held to account those who feel their club ‘deserves’ to be at a certain level. It’s why I ensured we claimed as our own, the term ‘The Likes of Doncaster’, to throw that attitude right back at those clubs. No club, no team, no players have a divine right to be at any level, but whilst we very much deserved to be back in the fourth tier after last season’s horror show, we can have perspective on where we ought to be pitching ourselves.

But how we have grown as a club, should not detract from the achievements of the team on the field. We shouldn’t let our pre-season expectations downplay what has been one of our finest seasons, one of our most prolific in front of goal, and one of our most creative in attack. Nor, should any dip in performance or spectacle in the final five matches take away from heights reached in the previous 41. I’ve already long forgotten most games I attended during our 2014-15 season; the football this team has turned out will stick in the memory much longer.

Look around you at your surroundings now and consider how different they are to when we were last in this division in 2004. We’re no longer a pub team having a laugh. Much as we may like to hold on to that moniker, it was born from unfashionableness, from being the rag-tag bunch from non-league with the portacabin offices upsetting the shiny 24,000 seats of Peter Taylor’s Hull. It’s a world away now, and the truth is – without wanting to sound cocky – we have, as a club, built up too much, done too much work in the community, to waste it in the fourth tier.

These surplus games may fizzle out completely, and we might not win the title. If we don’t it will certainly be a disappointment, but not a disaster. This was a fine season and we shouldn’t look for ways to downplay it or discredit it. Across history, success comes to clubs like ours rarely, and God knows there’s enough misery in the rest of the world, so don’t let the clumsy pursuit of a title define this campaign or detract from one of the most dominant Rovers sides there’s ever been. Revel in them.

THE BERNARD GLOVER DIARIES UP BEFORE EASTER! THAT’S GOT TO BE WORTH A SECOND LOOK, RIGHT? SATURDAY 11 MARCH ROVERS 2-0 CHELTENHAM TOWN

TUESDAY 14 MARCH ROVERS 3-1 NOTTS COUNTY

Ahead of kick-off a Cheltenham fan, free of irony or intoxication, told me the area around the Keepmoat reminded him of California. I didn’t even know they had Beafeater Inns in LA. Still, whatever the misconceived expansive glamour of its environs, the atmosphere of the game itself felt constricted with a nervousness permeating the stands despite the final result never really being in doubt.

The last month or so has been frustrating for Rovers fans, with teams seemingly happy to park those metaphorical buses at the Keepmoat and thwart the exciting play of previous months. This was no different; especially after Richard Duffy had poked home one of the most League Two goals you’ll see to give County a 20th minute lead But, despite Kevin Nolan’s side taking until Wednesday to execute every set piece, Lord Coppinger took it upon himself to bring Rovers level with a well-taken finish just before half time. Clichè alert; a good time to score. And if just before the break is a good time to score, just after is up there too. We did both. Mathieu Baudry heading in to kill any hope of an away resurgence, or so we thought.

Alfie May had already back-heeled a smart save out of Scott Brown, when Rovers went ahead. Town caught napping by James Coppinger’s quick free-kick and Matty Blair’s low cross was turned in by Andy Butler. There would be only the one further goal, but could’ve easily been more had Brown not brilliantly denied John Marquis, Tommy Rowe, and substitute Andy Williams.

However, Notts then replaced 65year old Alan Smith with a youthful 62-year old Shola Ameobi and duly found the net, only to see the goal disallowed for something nobody but the officials saw. As County pressed the game was finally wrapped up in added time when Williams cleared a corner with the keeper up, and got on the end of Gary McSheffery’s break to score his first since Boxing Day.

When it did arrive, the second goal was in effect a showcase for the talents of Rovers’ starting front two. The industrious May won the ball on halfway before setting off with defenders in his wake, and when the ball ran to Marquis, he finished with the efficiency of a man hitting his 21st goal of the season.

Inevitably McCormick proved to be the difference with three excellent saves in particular. In the first-half a strong hand on a Marquis header and a low block from Coppinger; then once Argyle had taken the lead through Sonny Bradley’s header McCormick protected the advantage with a great one-handed stop from Coppinger’s bouncing volley.

SATURDAY 18 MARCH LEYTON ORIENT 1-4 ROVERS There’s a lot to like about Leyton Orient; community club, principled supporters, old-school away stand. As such, scoring four whilst they battle their very existence, felt somewhat like prodding a poorly puppy. But, whilst feeling sympathy and empathy with their plight, we shouldn’t miss every opportunity to revel in this very good Doncaster side.

Bradley’s goal was one of just two attempts on goal Plymouth mustered; the visitors happy to sit back and settle for a point from start to finish. On another day Rovers would’ve won at a canter; they created the chances and did little wrong, but today it just wasn’t to be.

1-1 at half-time - Tommy Rowe’s welltaken half-volley cancelled out by Tom Parkes pitch-length break - the second half was much more pointedly Rovers’, especially after Orient gave the ball away on 55 minutes, inadvertently feeding the best striker in the Football League, and within a couple of touches it was 2-1 one one, two one one.

SATURDAY 1 APRIL GRIMSBY TOWN 1-5 ROVERS ‘Up there for me with Wembley, Brentford, all that,’ was the lofty praise heaped on this game by our own James McMahon, who went on to describe it as ‘wonderful, such an amazing day,’ and ‘a fabulous display of attacking football that made me so proud that this was the club I follow’. Indeed. You’d have to be a complete idiot to have put yourself so far removed from civilisation that you didn’t hear anything about this game for another seven days.

Rovers needed a third to be safe, but made hard work of getting it; Marquis fired over; May sliced wide and Williams shanked a break towards the Central Line. Eventually the gap told, and Rovers rattled in two more in a dominant ten-minute spell, Marwuis and Baudry both assisted by substitute Gary McSheffrey.

SUNDAY 26 MARCH ROVERS 0-1 PLYMOUTH ARGYLE A day of mixed feelings throughout, with the pride at seeing Rovers led out by supporters’ mums, undone by the use of the death of two children to fuel ‘banter’ and ‘stick’ aimed at Plymouth ‘keeper Luke McCormick. It’s fourand-a-half years since McCormick returned to football, that’s four-anda-half years of abuse from opposition fans. He’ll have heard nothing new here, why waste your breath?

So, for the benefit of idiots like our editor, Rovers recovered from a goal behind to put Grimsby to the sword, with Marquis the chief blade-wielder; rattling in a twenty-four minute hat-trick to swing the tie. Williams rediscovered his autumnal prowess to turn and fire in the fourth, before May turned in an opportunistic fifth to put the breadcrumbs on the fishcake. 6

In the second half Rovers were the better side and should’ve won it when May was sent clear in the second-half, but he couldn’t beat the U’s keeper.

SATURDAY 8 APRIL ROVERS 1-0 MANSFIELD TOWN Breakout the league-approved, sponsor-laden ‘We’re going up’ banners; Rovers are back in the third tier. With five full games to spare, Tommy Rowe’s header wraps up promotion to spark a glorious pitch invasion of the sort we’re supposed to frown upon, but all truthfully absolutely bloody love. Post-match Ferguson gave a telling hint to the key difference between last season’s squad and the current crop, telling Radio Sheffield ‘It’s a massive turnaround from 12 months ago. I have to thank the board. We recruited good characters and I’ve got a dressing room I can trust.’

MONDAY 17 APRIL ROVERS 0-1 BLACKPOOL What is it about Easter games against Blackpool that render us so goalshy? Thrice we’ve met them on this weekend in recent years, three times we’ve got nowt. Not that we didn’t have a decent tilt at things in this one, with Sam Slocombe saving from May, Rowe and Joe Wright in the first-half. The turning point came when Matty Blair was shown a second yellow card for a foul on halfway. Rovers rejigged, but just when the game appeared to be heading for a draw, Baudry inexplicably handled a cross. Mark Cullen took the penalty and slammed his shot against the base of the post.

MONDAY 10 APRIL The successes keep coming for Rovers as hot off the back of promotion they pick up four shiny things at the EFL Awards. John Marquis picks up League Two Player of the Year and Darren Ferguson the Manager of the Year award, but there are also nods to the wider impact of Rovers with Andy Butler deservedly winning PFA Community Player of the Year and the nicest man in football, Paul Mayfield being crowned Supporter of the Year.

Danger averted? Not quite. In the final minute Will Aimson took on substitute Will Longbottom and although he was held back, contact seemed to be outside the box. However, referee Carl Boyeson pointed to the spot, and despite consulting his better placed assistant he stuck to his decision. This time Jordan Flores stepped up this time and he made no mistake.

FRIDAY 14 APRIL COLCHESTER UNITED 1-1 ROVERS Despite playing on the hard shoulder of the A12 Colchester boast the secondbest home record in the league, so this was always likely to be a tough test. United piled on the pressure early on and took the lead through Brennan Dickenson’s fine strike, but Rovers hit back; Marquis having an effort cleared off the line before Baudry headed in the equaliser from a McSheffrey corner.

THURSDAY 20 APRIL Further acknowledgement for two of Rovers talisman, as both Coppinger and Marquis are deservedly named in the PFA League Two Team of the Year. Meanwhile, with promotion wrapped up Mathieu Baudry will take the opportunity to go in for surgery on an ankle injury now, in an effort to be ready for the new season. 7

SATURDAY 22 APRIL WYCOMBE WANDERERS 2-1 ROVERS It’s a good job Rovers are already promoted. Losing to a side whose fans only got lively when chanting about furniture rankled; had more been resting on this, I fear I’d have chewed my arm off. It was, as the cliché goes, a game of two halves. The first had goals and a largely competent Rovers, missing only ‘composure in front of goal’, and ‘defending the second ball’ from their getting-the-job-done checklist. Conversely, the second half offered absolutely nowt.

HARRY MIDDLETON

On the stairs in Sports Direct. Reckon he was buying Sondico base layers. @woztomes

SAM HIRD

Coming out of Asda, looking as miserable as Chesterfield’s defensive record. @DJLazarus

Rovers’ failure to defend the second ball was rooted in attempts to prevent Adebayo Akinfenwa winning the first. But given Akinfenwa boasts the surface area of a parcel distribution depot, this tactic had the negative effect of concerning most men in redand-white hoops. Just nine minutes in, with Rovers defence sucked into his gravitational pull, Akinfenwa headed a long throw against the bar, and Luke O’Nien exploited the space to nod Wycombe ahead.

BRIAN STOCK

Shaking his head at his Havant & Waterlooville team-mates’ inability to do anything with the passes he was firing their way, during a 3-0 loss at Dulwich Hamlet. @glenglenglen

MATHIEU BAUDRY

Pulling away from Cantley Park in a dinky white Audi. Looked like it needed to be kept cleaner. Bit like our defence lately. @A_Stubbings

Rovers had possession in attack, but little else. Tommy Rowe struck a post but it took Alfie May’s deflected cross to draw the sides level. It didn’t last. Another set-piece, another group of players hanging off Akinfenwa like men overboard clinging to a life-raft, another acre of space created for O’Nien to strike.

MOST OF THE SQUAD

In Lazarus Court, getting refused entry to an empty Tiki Bar by a jobsworth doorman, after the Mansfield game. @markkisby

2-1. Game over there and then; the second half merely a fifty-minute empty space no-one will recall.

Seen a current or ex Rovers player out and about? Tweet the details to @vivarovers and it could feature in issue 88 of the ‘zine. 8

GO AWAY! JUST ONE MORE AWAY GAME TO GO, HERE’S YOUR FINAL, VERY DISPENSABLE, GUIDE

Hartlepool United

How to get a ticket

Victoria Park 6 May

Rovers have been allocated just 1,035 tickets, so with demand high the club have introduced a tiered purchasing system for this game. As such tickets have been on sale in the following order, half a ticket per person.

Jewel of the North East is how it’s often described. But enough about Durham, we’re looking towards a trip to the decimated dock-town of Hartlepool. Parmos. No coats. All that.

10 Apr - Paul Mayfield 11 Apr - Season ticket holders who haven’t missed a game home or away since the Miners’ Strike 12 Apr - Season ticket holders who’ve attended 10 away games 13 Apr - Anyone who still shouts ‘Easy for Dennis!’ whenever a Rovers keeper catches owt 18 Apr - Anyone who went to that LDV Vans Trophy replay at Hereford 19 Apr - Season ticket holders whose only previous away day is Wembley 20 Apr - Saturday Santa 21 Apr - Anyone who went to Leek Town 24 Apr - Alliance Members who’ve been to more than six away games since Colin Douglas retired 25 Apr - Anyone who can explain what the Alliance is 26 Apr - Anyone who claims to have seen Charlie Williams play 27 Apr - Anyone who actually saw Charlie Williams play 28 Apr - That guy who tried taking a Christmas tree in to the away end at Scarborough 2 May - Anyone who plans to take an oversized inflatable football 4 May - General Sale (136 tickets per person).

What’s it famous for? Monkey hanging. According to legend, fishermen from Hartlepool once watched a French warship founder off the coast, and the only survivor was a monkey - dressed in French military uniform, presumably to amuse the ship’s crew. The fishermen, having never met one, assumed that this must be what Frenchmen looked like and, after a brief trial, summarily executed the monkey. It was 1984. Just kidding, it was during the Napoleonic Wars. As for United, their most famous fan is Saturday afternoon latest score hollerer Jeff Stelling.

What’s the stadium like? Victoria Park has the distinction of being the only football ground bombed during World War I, with the Main Stand picked off by a Zeppelin in 1916. The club built a temporary stand to replace it, which stayed in place until 1985 – giving you an idea of the rapid pace of social change in Hartlepool. Away fans will be packed in the Rink End, though some seats have a restricted view of football; given that they are cited in Hartlepool. 9

HOWARD’S MARKS SO FARSLEY, SO GOOD HOWARD BONNETT TAKES IN ANOTHER YORKSHIRE PROMOTION PUSH To wrap up my six-part trip around our non-league neighbours, I headed to Farsley Celtic. There may be no clear connection between Celtic and Rovers but they – when I watched them – were also on the brink of promotion, so I was interested to see another club doing well and compare hopes. By the time I’ve sold my last copy of this issue outside the Keepmoat hopefully they too have secured a step up.

Following a life spent in various Yorkshire leagues the club rose to the Conference for a season in 2007, but soon hit financial problems and went out of business. Reformed from the ashes they subsequently rose again, from Northern Counties East League to their current division, where they’ve remained a solid presence until this season’s upturn in fortunes. Though top when I visited, Farsley had played one more than their nearest rivals Lancaster City in what’s turned into a real nip and tuck race. Like Rovers, Celtic finish the season with an away game – for them it’s a trip to Kendal, so even if they are not promoted they can console themselves with some nice mint cake. With only the top team guaranteed promotions (second to fifth contest play-offs) the importance of trying to secure the league was clear.

On 1 April I headed to Celtic’s Throstle’s Nest ground, where the team, nicknamed ‘The Villagers’ were playing 14th placed Droylesden, a side with the more robust nickname of The Bloods. This is Farsley’s fifth year in the Evo-Stick First Division North, but this year has been a good one. Top of the league, having enjoyed some impressive cup runs and with an impending West Riding County Cup Final against Tadcaster Albion to come. With a month to go they’d already played 67 games over the season; impressive with a small squad.

With Farsley in good form I was expecting a decent game, but ultimately a home win. That said, Farsley were without the services of talisman James Walshaw, the experienced striker with lots of goals to his name, who was beginning a five-match ban for red cards. He’ll not be available again until that final game at Kendal. Visitors Droylesden arrived needing just one point to secure their fight against relegation, and so were content to sit back and try and hit on the counter.

Founded in 1908 as Farsley Celtic – the name owing to Scottish founders acknowledging their Glasgow roots – they sadly folded following financial issues in 2010 and reformed as Farsley AFC. Having now reverted to their original name there’s a plan to change from the current navy blue strip to green and white hoops. And we all love a hoop. 10

Sitting where they are, in a corridor between Bradford and Leeds, means attracting crowds above 200 or so is difficult. Indeed, the game I saw was attended by 188. During their brief stint in the Conference Farsley managed crowds of 1,000 so there is hope they could see a rise again in the future, just not at the expense of the club’s finances. Lessons have been clearly learned. Throstle’s Nest

For now admission is £7 for adults, £4 concessions and £1 for under 16s. They don’t do season tickets. The programme was £2. At the food kiosk pie, chips, peas and gravy was £4.20. And it was spot on, washed down with a pint of Worthington’s at £2.70.

The home side evidently missed Walshaw, lacking a cutting edge in an even first half that offered few attacks and even fewer clear-cut chances. Goalless at the break Farsley grew into thins in the second-half and went ahead from a cracking 30 yard strike by Ryan Watson. The lead lasted just 11 minutes before Droylesden broke through an uncertain defence to equalise through Jamie Frost.

What stood out from my visit was Farsley’s view of the importance of being a community club. Everyone involved in the running of Celtic is a volunteer, and juggle their love of the club with the day job. Connections with various junior teams, women’s teams and use of the club facilities, pitches and sports club all help to ensure there’s money in the coffers and the team keeps going. But more importantly they want to contribute to the local community. Whether the team goes up, down or stays the same, I was left with the very clear view that this was the most important part of the club.

In the final ten minutes either team could have won the game with dodgy defences being exposed, but it finished 1-1; a result which satisfied the visitors much more. However, Farsley’s feeling that this was two points dropped was soothed with the news that title rivals Lancaster City had lost 2-1 at home to Colne. From Farsley’s squad, Watson, Lewis Nightingale and Richard Marshall all stood out, but the best player in my view was Droylesden’s number two, Antoine Clark.

So, a team which could play in hoops, is getting better at working with fans and the community, should get promoted and promises to fight hard in the league above. And with an occasionally suspect defence. Seems I found much in common with Rovers after all.

I asked the fans if they thought they could hold their own in a higher league should they go up. Having already toppled sides from higher divisions in this season’s cup competitions they were looking ahead with a fair degree of optimism. They might be right. 11

THE BOY DONE GOOD ANDY BARLOW CONSIDERS WHAT HAPPENED NEXT FOR SOME PAST ROVERS HEROES As a special treat for my 40th birthday I managed to persuade a couple of my pals to join me on an away day to Crawley. Neil, a vicar by trade, had taken us a fairly circuitous route to the ground and his driving, along with the Rovers penalty miss, had left me feeling a little queasy. As a result I declined the half time trip to the catering facilities and instead stood listening to the banter on the terrace.

It did however pique my interest in players who, during my football supporting life, have moved on from Rovers to bigger clubs. Even though I’d be reluctant to pay money and cart myself off to watch a game they’re playing in, I confess to having a quick glance at the Blades result to see whether Billy Sharpe has scored, and scrutinising the Morecambe line-up to see if Liam Wakefield got a game.

I couldn’t help but notice from one group of gents, a level of enthusiasm in relation to Alfie May’s first half performance that seemed to belie the reality of the product I’d witnessed on the pitch. Given the harsh critique one has come to expect from a standard Donny fan, and their accents, which seemed suspiciously southern in origin, I began to doubt whether these chaps were in fact true Rovers fans.

But what of the real Rovers heroes of the past 20 years, and their subsequent escapades in the big time? Those who went on to the Premier League, the ones we hoped to catch glimpses of on Match of the Day.

I engaged the group in conversation (having lived in the south nigh on 15 years, I am familiar with the lingo) and discovered they were Hythe Town fans who’d made the trip specifically to see how Alfie was getting on. They went on to wax lyrical about May’s time at Hythe, how much the club was missing him, but also how they were pleased to see him getting a start at Rovers and doing so well. I was a little surprised at their level of devotion. If only because I found it hard to imagine any Rovers fans pitching up in the away end when Hartlepool visit Grimsby so as to keep an eye on Rob Jones or Billy Paynter.

Let’s start with Mike Jeffery. Signed from Bolton for a snip at £20,000 he was the darling of Belle Vue during the 1992-93 season when the refrain of ‘Oooh-Eeeeh Mike Jeffery’ was the Pop Stand’s take on Oooh-Aaah Cantona. Nineteen goals in 49 games was impressive, especially as he had to endure the seaweed over the shoulder away kit. Newcastle, during their Keegan era, came calling and I had high hopes of Jeffrey forging a partnership with Andy Cole in the vanguard of the Toon attack. Sadly it was not to be. I vaguely remember Jeffrey making the subs bench for a European fixture and willing Clive Tyldsley to reference the past clubs of the ‘reinforcments’ Keegan could bring on, but no. Newcastle let Jeffery go after two seasons… to Rotherham. 12

And if things couldn’t get any worse he played out the twilight of his career at Grimsby, though in between he did rack up 225 games for Dutch side Fortuna Sittard (you may scoff but they were playing in the Netherlands top flight at the time, Ajax, Feyenoord et al). Darren Moore

Coincidentally Sittard also proved to be one of many subsequent stop offs for another Rovers hero; Colin Cramb. Twenty-five goals in 62 Rovers matches caught the eye of Bristol City though Cramb never quite replicated that form at Ashton Gate and moved on to Crewe, then Fortuna Sittard before returning to Scotland.

However, the Alfie May ‘Boy Done Good Award’ for most successful Rover, in my lifetime, would have to go to Brian Deane. Over £4million in transfer fees, three England caps, regular Match of the Day cameos, and the first ever Premier League goal, for Sheffield United against Manchester United. All from the humble beginnings of Steve Beaglehole’s 1985 Rovers youth team.

Another big name who left the club in the mid 1990s was Darren Moore; escaping during Ken Richardson’s 1997 summer clearout to join Bradford for big money and help them achieve promotion to the Premier League. Impressively, Moore also assisted his next three clubs in gaining promotion to the highest tier. If you ever managed to stay up to watch the dregs of MOTD he could often seen picking the ball out of the back of the net for Portsmouth, West Bromwich Albion and finally Derby.

Lastly, special mention for two of the most recent players to move onwards and upwards; James Husband and Matt Mills. Last season I accompanied the aforementioned vicar to see Nottingham Forest play Huddersfield Town. Husband was playing for Town, Mills for Forest and I took glee in highlighting this to the Rev. For the first 15 minutes Husband duly had a torrid time against the Forest winger, culminating in a shocking challenge for which he was lucky to stay on the pitch. Two minutes later Mills put the ball in the back of his own net. Neil leaned across and with a wry smile commented ‘You can take the player out of Donny, but you can’t take Donny out of the player’.

The late 1980s was arguably the most fertile of periods for Rovers talent to go on to greater things. Following the success of the Snodin brothers, Rufus Brevett went to QPR for a club record fee and played over 350 games in the top flight for Rangers, Fulham and West Ham.

DON’T JUST READ POPULAR STAND, LISTEN TO IT

Help the close-season fly by with our podular STAND podcast. Listen to the latest episodes at soundcloud.com/popularstand or by searching for ‘popular STAND’ on iTunes. 13

LAZARUS COMES FORTH AS LAZARUS HAS COME TO REALISE, ROVERS JUST DON’T DO DULL SEASONS ‘More than anything I think I just want a dull season.’ I remember saying these words in conversation with a neighbour three years ago, as Rovers began to prepare for life back in League One. He’d just moved in and hence we were bonding at a basic level for the first time (he’s an Oxford fan, which explained that weird accent he has) and before I knew it I’d blurted these words out without even knowing I’d been thinking them. Only weeks earlier, Lee Clark’s Birmingham City had pulled off the spectacular coup of finishing 21st in the Championship on goal difference – an achievement they deemed worthy of a commemorative DVD release. This had only become possible by way of future Ballon D’Or contender Rhiad Mahrez hurling himself to the ground with a graceful 6.0 swandive in the vague presence of Rovers’ James Husband. Future Champions League quarter-finalists Leicester won 1-0 from the subsequent penalty to ensure that Birmingham’s injury time equaliser was enough to retain their Championship status – at our expense.

Given the insanity of the Brentford game a year prior, with its own injury time antics which sat at a whole different end of the spectrum (and at a time when future Premier League Manager of the Month Eddie Howe was, memorably, yet to fully master his tactful, graceful-in-defeat face). And, the infamous battle of the Keepmoat between Rovers and referee Mick Russell twelve months before that (when Portsmouth’s Dave Kitson elbowed and slam-dunked his way to an injury-time winner to confirm Rovers’ relegation), I think it’s forgivable to have maybe wanted the dust to settle, even a little. Fortunately, in 2014, future Sky Sports chatbot Paul Dickov couldn’t match the previous summer’s landmark signing of prime Free Press clickbait Louis Tomlinson, although in fairness he did bring in hometown hero Andy Butler. Mind, it’s worth noting he also signed future Twitter millionaire Reece Wabara, future Doncaster pub quiz question Abdul Razak, and future... erm… well… Curtis Main.

Given I’m an unashamed Rovers optimist, this seems a peculiar stance to take at the conclusion of one of our most memorable and successful – not to mention entertaining – seasons. But, as the stats-people like to point out, we have now been through five divisional changes in the last six seasons and, like it or not, this hasn’t been a stable ride. And even those weird people who enjoy rollercoasters would probably admit they’d get pretty sick of them if they never got off to reclaim terra firma once in a while.

‘The Paul Dickov Way’ as you may fondly remember, involved lumping the ball upfield to a pre-FA Cup heroics Theo Robinson, or hoping future coffee entrepreneur Harry Forrester could score another accidental goal before he punched anyone. Relegation fears and play-off hopes were subsequently dashed nice and early, allowing us all the luxury of a meaningless run in, including the epitomy of emptiness, that so dull it went viral nil-nil with Fleetwood.

But do we want next season to be dull? Of course not – but much as the romantic in me loves the idea of back to back promotions, I’m more interested to see how Rovers cope with the higher level.

Thirteenth place that season was a fair reflection on that team, but the prevailing dullness would, of course, not last. The Dickov era gave way to the Jones era, the Fergie revival, and then THAT 17 game winless run. All notions of a dull season were out the window again, and pretty much from the moment relegation was confirmed, the demand for the instant return was there. A dull season would not be tolerated!

Ultimately, I think it’s most important to consolidate our position, rather than going hell for leather towards another crack at the Championship straight away. Some of our players may be found out, some may thrive on the increased pressure. Ferguson might demonstrate inspired tactical strategies on the pitch that mean Barcelona come courting. Alfie May could turn out to be the future Jamie Vardy, or he could turn out to be the future James Corden.

Not that I’m at all suggesting I’d have rather had a dull season over what 2016-17 has given us. Being a football fan is such hard work for so much of the time that you’d have to be crazy not to enjoy the rare occasions in which the planets align and you’re suddenly a force to be reckoned with.

The point is, anyone could yet become the future anything. Our perspectives in the future could change everything we think and feel now, but for the present, the future is always exciting. Even if you only have a Curtis Main volleying another shot out for a throwin, there still might yet be a John Marquis around the corner.

I just think it’s important to recognise that life in League One next season will by no means be as leisurely as it has been in League Two. All supposedly unstoppable forces do eventually meet their immovable objects. Opposite: The far from dull season ending moments of 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2016.

ON FALLING FOR THE ROVERS CELEBRITY FAN DR RICHARD DAWKINS EXPLAINS HOW HE FELL FOR THE ROVERS. AS TOLD TO MIKE FOLLOWS In science there are times aplenty when such overwhelming bodies of evidence all point in the same direction as to make the chances of being wrong so infinitesimally small that we may in common parlance state these cases to be facts.

Sport in general, I must admit is something for which I have never felt a great deal of fondness. I do enjoy the idyll of imbibing a pint of nut-brown ale on a summer’s day whilst two cricket teams knock a ball around, but the fervour of the frenzied football crowd is not something for which I care a great deal.

The nub of science is being the demonstrably least wrong whilst always accepting and embracing the fact that new discoveries or evidence can disprove one’s theory.

It may then seem quite unusual for me to extoll the virtues of a football club, but having happened upon Doncaster Rovers as an academic I have experienced what those of a religious bent may be inclined to describe as something of an epiphany.

Religion sits in the former category of having so much evidence against it as to be practically indisputable poppycock. But having taken in many a Doncaster Rovers match over several years I am about to publish a paper that will rock the scientific establishment to its very core.

It was suggested to me by fellow bastion of academia, Professor Brian Cox that it may pique my interest to observe the fanaticism of a football crowd at close quarters. Inasmuch as I may utilise this behavioural observation in postulating upon mankind’s desire to find meaning in the tribal sense of belonging, which encompasses the partisan sports fan much as it does the religious fanatic.

I have witnessed footballs plucked out of the heavens with the deftest of touch. I have seen defenders put into trance-like states to which the most committed of Buddhists could only aspire. I have seen a man of diminutive stature uniting the masses into a state of nirvana with the flick of a boot.

I readily agreed that from a scientific viewpoint it could be an insightful experience and he suggested that I accompany him to watch a club for whom he had recently developed something of an affection. So it was decided that I would commence my studies by observing the supporters of Doncaster Rovers.

I, Dr. Richard Dawkins have seen God. And God’s name is James Coppinger.

REMEMBERING THE FIRST TIME A TWIST ON OUR USUAL FORMAT AS KEITH WEST TAKES US BACK TO 1964 Just over forty years later I returned to Belle Vue for my second (and last) time on the turf, in May 2006. Before the ground closed, Rovers were allowing people to hire Belle Vue for a match, and I decided to celebrate my 60th birthday by bringing a team over from Cleethorpes, where I live, to play - I’d continued to play football into my early 50s and five-a-side after that, so I remained fit enough. I assembled a squad of family and friends and we played against a team of Rovers addicts, which included the then Donny Dog. Our side won 6-2 but despite several chances I failed to score this time out, although one of my sons did net a hat-trick.

Although the premise of this feature may be to recollect the first time you watched Doncaster Rovers play, I have chosen to break with convention. Unfortunately, I cannot remember specifically which was the first game my dad took me to, at Belle Vue. I know it was in the 1950s and Charlie Williams played, but that’s as far as my memory will stretch. So instead I’ve chosen to recall the first time I played at Belle Vue. In April, possibly May, 1964 I played for Intake in the Doncaster under 18s Cup Final. I played in the number 10 position, and I scored in a 4-1 victory. The goal was a low shot from inside the box at the Town End, where the wooden stand used to be. It was particularly special as I used to stand on the terrace behind that goal, half way up in front of the stand, to watch Rovers through most of the 1960s before moving away from Doncaster.

One of the younger spectators was heard to say ‘come on Grandad’ during the game, in a supportive rather than sarcastic way… at least I think so. I was just glad to be able to walk the following day.

Do you remember your first Rovers match? Fancy sharing it with our readers? If so, please get in touch with us via the address on page two.

BERNARD GLOVER’S

BELIEVE IT or NOT Former Rovers mifielder Joe Laidlaw went on to voice a number of characters on Spitting Image, including Lester Piggott and Francois Mitterrand. 17

MARSHALL MATTERS HOW DOES THE CURRENT SIDE COMPARE TO PAST ROVERS TEAMS? ROB MARSHALL TAKES A LOOK The 1970s boasted the ‘holy trinity’ of Peter Kitchen, Brendan O’Callaghan and Ian Miller, the collective catalyst for the wealth of goals that side scored year-onyear throughout the decade. And, managed by the great Billy Bremner, the teams of the early 1980s contained Ian Snodin, Glynn Snodin, Alan Warboys… great names which were part of a great team who will rightly be remembered and revered forever.

This great club of ours boasts over 130 years of history and a wealth of memorable moments. This season has certainly been one of the better ones, but quite where it will rank among its peers got me thinking. Where exactly will the class of 2016-17 sit within history when the dust settles, and what is it that makes a team or a season stand out? There are a number of Rovers teams I could tell you about in reasonable detail despite never seeing them play. They have, for whatever reason, reached the upper echelon in Rovers lore and as such are indelible marks on its history.

So, against a backdrop of such giants, where will the current team fit in the jigsaw of greats? When you look a little deeper, that great team that won the league in 1966 actually stumbled over the line, winning only three of the last seven games to take the title on goal difference, before being relegated the following year. In reality, the team which won it again in 1969 punched much higher above its collective weight but doesn’t seem to hold the same appeal as our class of ‘66. As for that swashbuckling side of the 1970s, despite boasting two 20 goal-a-season strikers the highest they ever finished was 8th. And of course Bremner’s promotion winning team of 1981 went up in 3rd place, a full 11 points behind champions Southend.

The championship winning team of 1966 contained legendary names, and whilst library footage of that decade’s fourth division is virtually nonexistent, I could still give details of the magic from King Alick; the heading ability of Laurie Sheffield and the distinction of John Nicholson as both a man and a footballer, despite it all happening 15 years before I was born. I can list the number of records broken by the all-conquering team of 1947, regardless of it being a further 20 years back in history, along with the likely never to be surpassed goalscoring exploits of Clarrie Jordan.

When considered in such cold terms, what makes a great team great? I don’t know really, it just seems to be so. 18

In truth, the 1966 team were the first to win anything for over a decade and were the first to address the slide from the second tier. Similarly, the barren years of the 1970s were offered some glamour by the swagger of an albeit underachieving team, meaning Bremner’s side of 1981 were also the first to produce tangible success in twelve years.

Andy Butler, Tommy Rowe, John Marquis and James Coppinger can all hold their own, even in such distinguished company. Perhaps the esteem in which this side will be held will depend on how it fares next year, or over the next two or three. What this side does deserve to stand out for though is how, for the majority of the year, it has stood so far ahead of its divisional peers. Not since that team of the 1940s has a side dominated a division as this one has; securing promotion by the first days of April speaks volumes about the quality with which the side has applied itself. And of course it boast’s the league’s top scorer, it’s player of the year and it’s manager of the year to boot. Rarely has a Rovers team gathered such an array of accolades and it has not been without justification.

But more than just breaking Rovers’ status quo, each of these sides offered players that put bums on wooden seats. Alick Jeffrey’s return singlehandedly boosted crowds and he and Sheffield scored 50 goals between them that year - it’s not hard to fathom the exciting allure of that team. Likewise those 1970s sides came with a guarantee of goals and showed its promise with a couple of amazing cup runs, coming within a crossbar’s width of toppling League champions Liverpool in 1974.

History is not just about the hard facts, but about memories accumulated along the way. This side has the opportunity to go further and create even more over the next few years. Time may remember this year just as many others, it might record it as one of the greats or, who knows, it might show it as the starting point for great things that followed.

The 1980-81 side was built on fresh faced locals like the Snodin brothers, and young hungry pros with something to prove. When you consider their achievements were orchestrated by one of the greats of European football, it’s not hard to understand why it’s still recalled today. Despite our recent ups and downs the club has still achieved plenty in the last 15 years, so one wonders if this year may be inadvertently diluted by recent success. What about the names which make up the sum of the parts, will they stand the test of time in the way the others seemed so obviously destined to?

That’s the reason we all love this game, but either way this season and this team should be enjoyed now. The rest always looks after itself.

Coppinger’s legacy is secure, but what of Marquis and Rowe?

JACK THE MINER’S COAL FACE JACK THE MINER TELLS THE TALE OF HOW ALFIE MAY BECAME A ROVER

A Tale of Two Bleak Curiosity Shops by Charles Dickhead In the damp cobbled streets below, under the gaslights and the descending fog, he could hear the street urchins sing, ‘Alfie May, Alfie May, wants to be a footballer one day.’ They teased him daily, but it did not diminish his dream. ‘A footballer I shall be,’ he would say beneath his breath and sometimes out loud, much to the amusement of the giggling maid who would bring Master May his milk and biscuits at eleven each morning. Announcing his intentions aloud brought down the wrath of his father later that same evening. Although the intent to succeed was strong within him he feared the old man. Towering above his son he looked cadaverous in the thin light, his face partially obscured by the ludicrous grey permed mane.

‘This nonsense must stop at once. You shall follow me into the family business young Alfred Sir and that will be the end of it.’

Alfie straightened his back and tugged nervously at his pony tail. ‘But father, I cannot play the guitar. You do so proficiently and quite frankly I do not see the day when I will become a member of Queen. My talent is in my feet, not my hands.’ He stormed from the room leaving his father purple faced. ‘I shall never be a foppish twat in an overthe-hill pantomime rock band’, said Alfie to himself. ‘I will play football professionally and with all my heart I shall endeavour to do it well and I will honour this promise to myself ’ In the large basement kitchen he helped himself to the cook’s freshly made apple pie. Watchful and vigilant he alighted the stairs, carefully avoiding those he knew would creak under his footfall; frightened as he was of engaging with his equally overbearing mother. As he crossed the dark corridor a door opened behind him. He turned to see the stooping figure of his mother emerging from the shadows. Wringing her bony hands she snapped, ‘I gather you have spoken to your father and dishonoured him you ungrateful boy. I have no time for this. I have hospitals to close and an election to call. If you insist on not becoming a member of Queen then you must surely follow me into politics.’ 20

A mournful silence ensued before Alfie spoke. ‘I am a prolific scorer of goals. It is my destiny to ply my trade on the lush green turf, not talking complete and utter shite from the green leather seats of the House of Commons’.

‘No’, said the man. ‘It just looks like that sometimes. Come with me. Come with me Alfie to the North, to Doncaster and the rolling acres of the Keepmoat where fame and fortune awaits.’

His mother grabbed her offspring by the throat. ‘You useless lad. No good will become of you. All these years of dreaming and there has been no knock at the door and mark my words there will never be. Oblivion and destitution are your future.’

‘Then to Doncaarrster I shall come’, said Alfie. ‘I’ll get my boots.’ ‘No need young Sir. Where you are going, people will pay you to wear handmade calfskin boots; you shall drink the finest ales in The Crown in Bawtry, you will eat the finest foods in Nandos and get the best tattoos money can buy.’

She returned to her room laughing. Despondently, his shoulders sagged as he walked back downstairs, intent on more helpings of apple pie.

Shaking his head, a happy but tearful Alfie sobbed, ‘So this is it? I really will play professional football one day. I was right and they were wrong. God bless us, every one.’

In the street outside he could hear the grubby children singing, ‘Alfie May, Alfie May, his little legs might grow one day.’

In the little world in which children have their existence, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt as injustice, but Alfie was not bitter towards the absence of support from his parents. He was comfortable in the knowledge that they were just p****s of the highest order.

The forlorn figure put on a scarf and top hat, picked up his cane and ventured out into the night. He walked and kept walking. A strange feeling enveloped him as the cobbles became totally silent and dark. He knew he was no longer alone on the streets of Hythe.

In the days that passed Alfie achieved his dreams, and was often seen down Hythe way giving the V-sign to the local urchins as he drove around the streets of his former home town in his Baby Bentley.

A figure darted and moved, before making its way to the startled young man. It was a man of some stature. A little overweight some might say.

‘May I present myself?’ said the man. ‘I am Darren Ferguson and I stand between you and your fate.’

Such are the changes that a few years bring about, and so do things pass away, like a tale that is told.

‘Are you wearing eye liner?’ asked Alfie.

The End

VOICE OF THE POP SIDE IS THIS THE EARLIEST ROVERS HAVE EVER BEEN PROMOTED? JOHN COYLE FINDS OUT On Saturday 8 April 2017 Doncaster Rovers beat Mansfield Town 1-0 to ensure promotion back to League One at the first time of asking. There were five games still to be played and the date and number of matches remaining prompted me to consider whether Rovers had set a new club record.

The 1946-47 season saw Rovers set all manner of records, the most notable being for most points won in a season. However, they didn’t clinch the title until 24 May 1947 when they won their penultimate game of the season 1-0 at Bradford City. The season didn’t actually end until 14 June, having been extended due to a combination of harsh winter weather and Government restrictions on midweek fixtures in the aftermath of World War II.

In order to check this, I looked back at each of the club’s eleven previous promotion seasons. Seven of these also involved divisional titles being won and with the destination of the League Two trophy still undecided at the time of writing, I will also look at the earliest date at which the championship was clinched.

The earliest date on which a title has been secured came in 1949-50, when player-manager Peter Doherty’s side drew 1-1 at Barrow on 22 April 1950. Combined with Gateshead’s defeat at Crewe this meant Rovers couldn’t be caught and secured their last Third Division (North) crown with two games remaining.

THE DIVISION THREE (NORTH) ERA Rovers’ first three promotions were from the old Third Division (North) to the Second Division. Promotion was synonymous with the title, because only the champions of each regional section were promoted, a situation that endured until 1958.

THE 1960s Two Fourth Division titles came Rovers’ way in the 1960s. The first of these, in 1965-66, was secured at a time that the players were probably looking forward to their summer holidays. Promotion was sealed on 11 May 1966 in the penultimate game, a 1-0 win at Crewe, but a draw in the final game at Bradford City meant Darlington could pip Rovers if they won their final game at home to Torquay United on 21 May. In fact, that game ended 0-0 and Rovers were duly crowned champions.

In 1934-35 a 2-1 home win over Wrexham on 27 April 1935, combined with defeat for challengers Chester, meant Rovers won their first Football League championship with two games to spare. Which was just as well, as they lost both.

A similarly untidy end to the season in 1968-69 meant Rovers had to wait until their final game to be sure of the title. A 0-0 draw at home to Workington on 22 April 1969, the penultimate game of the season, ensured promotion, but heavy rain forced the final game, at Grimsby, to be postponed until 5 May. Rovers duly went there, won 3-1 and thus secured their second, fourth tier title.

Rovers secured promotion from what was now called Division Three on Easter Monday, 12 April 2004, with a 2-0 home win over Cambridge United. Four games remained and the title was duly sealed in the penultimate game with a 0-0 draw at Boston United. That promotion was Rovers earliest ever, until Darren Ferguson’s men shattered that record this season. In 2007-08 Rovers’ second trip to a play-off final brought about their latest ever promotion in terms of date. At Wembley on 25 May 2008 James Hayter’s goal gave Rovers victory over Leeds United and took them back to the second tier of English football after a 50 year absence. There would of course be even greater drama in 2012-13 when on 27 April 2013 Rovers secured both promotion and the League One title with almost the last kick of the game at Brentford. The home side missed a penalty, which would have condemned Rovers to the play-offs and the ball was cleared upfield for James Coppinger to score the winning goal (Though I realise this description does scant justice to the events of that memorable day).

THE 1980s Billy Bremner’s teams were promoted from Division Four twice, going up in third place in 1980-81 and as runnersup in 1983-84. On 2 May 1981 Rovers beat AFC Bournemouth 2-1 in front of a crowd of over 10,000 to return to Division Three after a ten year absence. They had one game still to play. On 7 May 1984 a 2-0 win at Stockport County meant Rovers were up with two games remaining. Rovers would have to wait nearly twenty years for another promotion, but then in the manner of buses, two came together. MODERN TIMES The most exciting decade of Rovers’ history kicked off on 10 May 2003, henceforward known as Sir Francis Tierney Day, when Rovers beat Dagenham & Redbridge 3-2 in the Conference Promotion Play-off at Stoke’s Britannia Stadium. This was the first time Rovers had participated in post-season action, though not the last. The return to the Football League was quickly followed by another promotion, this time with a championship trophy for good measure.

IN CONCLUSION So the Rovers team of 2016-17 hold the record for the club’s earliest ever promotion, 8 April and five games to go, taking the crown from the 2003-04 side. Had the Easter weekend wielded better results they may have been able to equal the record of the 194950 team, who secured their divisional championship on 22 April. However, despite that disappointment, Darren Ferguson and his players can still justly claim to be record breakers. 23

FOR PEAT’S SAKE THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN AND WITH SCANT REGARD FOR EUPHEMISM JACK PEAT IS PURSUING A HARD VIKING Of all the political commentators covering Theresa May’s shock announcement that the nation will once again go to the polls in June, it was Brenda from Bristol who struck the right tone in summing up our appetite for more of that there politics. ‘You’re joking. Not another one. Oh for God’s sake’, she bewilderingly told the cameramen, and who can blame her?

And after leading a hard-fought campaign to ‘remain’ I can assure you that Viking means Viking, and that I will very much be pushing for a hard Viking. I jest, but I have been digging around in the fascinating world of etymology since the topic was raised on the fanzine podcast and it would be remiss for me not to share the knowledge I’ve acquired. Especially given there’s not a great deal happening on the football front and it’s not as if we’re contending to go up as champions in one of the most nail-biting climaxes to a season since Marcello Trotta fluffed a penalty at Brentford.

In the last few years we’ve been awash with elections, namely the one to leave a union run by nonelected bureaucrats and then the one to cement the position of our own unelected Prime Minister who is supposed to be managing said divorce.

Etymology is the study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history. It’s sort of a big deal on the football front, given that clubs are often associated as much by the colour of their shirt or their civic makeup as much as they are their place of origin, and there’s real method behind it. By and large every one of the 92 clubs in the Premier League and Football League will have nicknames that fit into four broad categories – plants and animals, people, the obvious, and odds and ends – which are further broken down by four or five categories apiece to round them all up.

Little wonder, therefore, that the poll to top all polls has been somewhat brushed under the carpet this month because some people think electing a government that will rewrite the majority of the UK’s laws and renegotiate our position with our biggest trading partner is more important than whether Rovers should be nicknamed the Butterscotchmen or the Dinosaurs – madness. The result of the vote we conducted on what Rovers’ nickname ought to be was, for those of you who haven’t listened to the latest podular STAND podcast, a decisive 58 per cent in favour of our Nordic status quo; ‘The Vikings’. 24

It may seem too simplistic to be true, but some 30 teams fit under the ‘plants and animals’ category – Magpies, Swans, Peacocks, Robins, Cherries, Tricky Tress – and roughly the same amount under the ‘people’ category – Glovers, Brewers, Gunners, Chairboys and, of course, Vikings. Which brings us up to speed with the current debate. You see, the topic was originally raised because despite Rovers having the Viking association for many years now it is seldom used as a reference point and you never really hear it on the terraces.

Well, all the evidence – which means, until I’m proven wrong – points to a few local students. In the late 1960s the local council denied Doncaster Rovers the prolonged use of its civic icon of two lions holding Yorkshire roses in their mouths and a competition was launched to replace it. The winners, a group of local students, designed the badge we still use today and christened it ‘the Viking’ after our Rovers suffix, which translates ‘wanderer’ or ‘seafarer’, with obvious Viking connotations. But in our brief Viking history we certainly haven’t capitalised on the association, and now the election results are in I want to put the issue to bed once and for all and paint a bright picture for what lies ahead inside the Nordic union.

The book The Best Doncaster Rovers Football Chants Ever – I shit you not that is actually a Google Library referenced book – does make a reference to one song that starts with ‘Who’s that team they call the Vikings’, which given the discourse thus far could well be a genuine question.

Being a Viking means we can finally write our own laws, or better, not pay any attention to them at all. We will travel often and travel well, and what’s more we will bring back gallons of treasure that can be spent on healthcare and what not. We will be a global force to be reckoned with and no longer be pegged back by other global forces that make us much bigger by association. And we will clap, we will chant, we will drink lots of beer and mostly, we will make Doncaster great again.

So why are we called the Vikings, and does a supporter’s board, a forum and a mascot named Eric really constitute making the best use of such an association, given how well fans of the Icelandic national team did at championing it during last summer’s European Championships? On the history front it’s well known that Yorkshire has a pronounced Viking ancestry, yet if you told our forefathers that it was Doncaster who would celebrate the association in its name above, say York (The Minsterman) there might have been a few bushy eyebrows raised. On the taxonomy of nickname chart Rovers would indeed have probably been a better fit as Butterscotchmen given the confection originated in Donny, or perhaps Railwaymen if it wasn’t already taken. So why the association?

‘OOOOOFF!’ *clap*

WAUGH, HUH, YEAH EVER STARTED A CHANT AT THE ROVERS? DAVE WAUGH HAS. ONE DAY HE MAY DO SO AGAIN I started a chant once. Just once. I don’t even join in usually, except for the odd ‘Come on Rovers’ or ‘Come on you reds’ when there’s a late corner and we’re losing. Even then, I am a bit embarrassed. I don’t have a great voice and so managed to mime to hymns throughout my teaching career. When it was my turn to take hymn practice, I used my voice as a threat: ‘You’d better learn this quickly or I’ll sing it!’ I was in a folk group once with two mates. One was a brilliant singer, one was a superb guitarist and I stood behind them and strummed and mimed. So, starting a chant was a big thing for me.

Football chants have always fascinated me. Mostly they are unimaginative and unoriginal – anyone who chants ‘Who are you?’ at the opposition should be neutered, and as for ‘You’re not singing anymore!’, it takes me back to primary school playgrounds. But occasionally a chant comes along which is both witty and memorable, like AFC Wimbledon’s ‘Where were you when you were us?’ when beating the loathed MK Dons recently, or Norwich fans taunting Chelsea with ‘We’ve got a supercook; you’ve got a Russian crook!’ Norwich seem to figure a lot in my favourite chants. I was at Elland Road many years ago when sixth bottom Leeds played second bottom Canaries. ‘Going down, going down, going down’ taunted the Leeds supporters. ‘So are we, so are we, so are we!’ came the response. Simple, but witty.

It didn’t even happen during the match. I was in the old Portakabin gents in the corner at the Rossington end of Belle Vue. Through the open window, I saw a Chesterfield youth, safe behind the security fence, hurling abuse at mocking Rovers supporters, and I was suddenly inspired. ‘You’re twelve and you know you are!’ I mocked, to the amusement of my fellow urinaters. Incredibly, the chant was taken up both inside and outside the loo and the taunting fan looked first annoyed and then crestfallen as he retreated into the visiting crowd. I sometimes wonder if he suffered lasting psychological damage as a result of my chant. If he is still supporting the Spirites this season, he probably did!

Norwich have yo-yoed between the Championship and the Premier League and even League One, while arch rivals Ipswich are the longest-serving members of the Championship. When they met their Suffolk rivals this year for the ‘Old Farm Derby’, they held a minute’s taunting applause in the 15th minute to celebrate Town’s lack of promotions. Ipswich fans duly responded with: ‘Fifteen years in the Championship, but we’re still famous and you’re still sh*t!’ 26

Without hesitating, I broke into ‘Did you cry when Hayter scored’ and followed this with an all-time favourite to the tune of the Dambusters’ March: ‘Leeds and Leeds and Leeds and Leeds, Leeds and Leeds and Leeds and Leeds and Leeds and Leeds and Leeds, we all f*cking hate Leeds!’ There was a slightly embarrassed hush in the dining room and one could hear coffee cups chinking and After Eights being chewed, but I think I got away with it!

Then there was the Crystal Palace chant when Ian Dowie led them to promotion: ‘One Ian Dowie, there’s only one Ian Dowie. He’s ugly as f*ck, but he’s taken us up, walking in a Dowie wonderland!’ The same supporters marked a brief revival under former player, Alan Pardew, with ‘One Alan Pardew, he used to be sh*te, but now he’s all right…’. As for Rovers, the Andy Williams chant to his namesake’s tune ‘You’re just too good to be true’ is great, but the sight and sound of fourteen and fifteen year-olds offering the services of their wives does seem a little odd. The recent Da Do Ron Ron adaptation to celebrate John Marquis’s scoring prowess is impressive: ‘Who’s the best striker in the Football League? It’s you John, John, John, it’s you John, John’. It’s pleasing to hear the tunes of songs from my youth being used by people who may never have heard the originals.

My favourite Rovers chant in the 1960s is still requested by my old mates from university when we’ve over-imbibed. Sung to the tune of Onward Christian Soldiers, the words show its age:

We follow the Rovers, the Rovers follow us. We follow them all over in a Yorkshire Traction bus. We follow them to Torquay, Bournemouth and Brighton too. Wherever you are playing, Rovers we’ll follow you’

A couple of months ago, I was at a 50th wedding anniversary party (the sort of social high spot one gets used to at my time of life!) when a couple of friendly (and inebriated) Leeds supporters of a similar age launched into ‘Marching On Together’. Naturally, as a mature pensioner, I booed, so they asked: ‘Don’t you have a special song for Donny Rovers?’

Somehow I don’t think that one is likely to be revived, but it would be good to hear more originality and fewer hackneyed taunts. Perhaps I should move to the Black Bank and make a comeback as a chant leader? On the other hand, I’m probably just a one-hit wonder!

VOTE FOR 'THE COACH' YOUR NO. 1 DONCASTER MAYOR CANDIDATE I’M RUNNING TO BE MAYORY... NOW, GIVE ME YOUR VOTE. GIVE IT... GO ON GIVE IT. AND YOU NOW. GIVE IT AS WELL... THAT’S IT... NOW, JUST PUT AN X IN THE BOX. GO ON. PUT IT IN THE BOX. COME ON, GET IT IN THERE... FIRST TIME! IN THE BOX.. CROSS IT! CROSS IT! GO ON, CROSS IT! ....NOOOOO!!!! NOT ON THE RIGHT WING!! 27

THE BELLES, THE BELLES CHRIS DONALD REPORTS ON DONCASTER ROVERS BELLES RETURN TO FAWSL ACTION After a tough start to the Spring Series – the FA’s interim competition before a return to winter football – the Belles finally have a run of games to shout about. Manager Emma Coates is now looking to put last season’s disappointing campaign behind her side and use the Spring Series to rebuild confidence and get the club challenging again.

Leaders Durham then came to town and tested to Belles to their limits, but Sweetman-Kirk was again the difference. Murray opened the scoring with a fantastic turn and finish from a tight angle before Becky Salicki levelled proceedings nodding in from a corner. But with the game seemingly drawing to a close with the scores level, Murray found Sweetman-Kirk at the back post for a late winner.

However, after Watford Ladies pulled out of the FA Cup tie, the first league fixture versus Sheffield was called off due to a waterlogged pitch and then two further games fell to international call ups, the Belles (at the time of writing) have already fallen four games behind the pack. Quite an achievement in a nine match season.

A 1-1 draw away at struggling Watford halted their winning run, but not Sweetman-Kirk’s goal-scoring, however for Coates the focus is on using the Spring Series to get young players game time, before the allimportant 2017-18 season where they’ll be hoping to win promotion back to the top flight.

But fear not, games are now coming thick and fast. Despite a devastating 7-0 defeat to Chelsea in the FA Cup, the Belles have begun the Spring series in good form. A stunning 4-1 win over previously unbeaten London Bees kicked off the campaign in style. Courtney Sweetman-Kirk (who else?) bagged a brace including a cheeky back-heeled opener. Scottish forward Christie Murray grabbed her first goal for the club and Emily Simpkins rounded off the scoring with a rocket of an effort from range.

One of those who is impressing is young Rebecca Rayner; already with an assist to her name, Rayner is definitely one to watch throughout the Spring Series and when the new season kicks off in September. Trying to regroup to push for an instant return following last season’s relegation is a tall order for Coates and her staff, but steadily they are building something that Doncaster can be even more proud of.

DONCASTER ROVERS BELLES vs ASTON VILLA

SATURDAY 13 MAY | 3PM | ADULTS £7 | CHILDREN £2 | FAMILIES £14

SUPPORT THE BELLES IN THEIR FINAL SPRING SERIES HOME GAME 28

MEMORABLE MEMORABILIA THIS ISSUE JOHN TURNER TALKS US THROUGH ONE OF HIS TREASURED ROVERS POSSESSIONS Usually full of Pit Moggies (an endearing nickname), their kids and smoke – as it was allowed back then – the buses were a hive of discussion and suppressed excitement. In those days you did not have nor need a forum – you just got on the Express and listened during the journey. Would we get there for kick-off? Would we win? What would the team be? Who’d be injured, who had been dropped or even signed? Unlike now, you just did not know until you got your hands on a programme and listened for the team changes.

Compared to James Coppinger’s 500th shirt my ‘poster’ pales into insignificance. Tatty and worth nowt monetarily, it’s nevertheless priceless to me, providing a link to my Rovers supporting past, my dad, and a supporters’ life so different it’s hard to believe it’s barely 45 years ago In those days of no computers, social media, mobile phones or Teletext, the information on when we were next at home came largely via the Green Un, match programmes, or your mates at school or work. Though one other way fixtures were communicated, was via posters like this, stuck on the windows of Rovers Express Buses.

The buses had no back doors, so it seemed cold any time of year and often condensation rolled down the windows. At the end of the game you’d run full speed to get your preferred seat, but if Rovers were losing badly the Express offered sanctuary from further punishment and many a time you were on there early with many others, but bizarrely everyone would be on the top-deck trying to see over the wall, watching and hoping for an unlikely comeback.

Rovers Expresses ran from most areas around Doncaster, and mine were the double decker Blue Line buses from Dunscroft via Stainforth. They were for people without cars, or kids whose dads worked shifts. They were cheap and great, picking you up on the bus route at a constant time before kickoff, so whatever day or time the match was you knew when it would appear. Sometimes it sailed past full, but no problem, you knew another would be added, and they never failed – taking you straight to Belle Vue.

Then it was home, discussions in full flow whether you’d won or lost. A ‘see you next game’ as you disembarked, and if the windows were wet you could leave with next week’s poster… even when 21 and old enough to know better. 29

GROWING UP IN THE 90s STEVE MATTHEWS RECOUNTS THE TRIBULATIONS OF GROWING UP AS A ROVERS SUPPORTER IN THE 1990s It’s easy following Doncaster Rovers as a kid, right? Nowadays, it’s almost fashionable. There’s no stigma attached to following a team from the fourth tier anymore. Kids don’t ask ‘but, why?’ or snigger amongst themselves when the lad with the Rovers pencil case talks about going to the game with his dad. Replica shirts are worn around the town and it’s considered the norm. Oh how different it is to when I was growing up. It was tough. I felt I had to choose a ‘big’ team just to fit in. I chose Newcastle United. Please sympathise with me. My Dad is to blame. He took me to Belle Vue at six, bought me my first kit around the same time. My first game was a 3-2 opening day defeat to Bury in 1992. I recall very little of that afternoon, just the zig-zag hooped strip and the way we capitulated in the second half. Only a handful of games stick in my mind from the early to mid 1990s. A late winner at Torquay in blazing sunshine, an FA Cup mauling at Mansfield, the ridiculous yet sublime 5-0 win at Scunthorpe. All away days of course. Donny Rovers away, there’s nothing like it. I was gripped. Whenever I played football in the back yard, I was Colin Cramb. I would try and run like him, walk like him and try to get my dad booked by backing into him and hitting the deck like Cramb.

However, my favourite player from the mid 1990s was Graeme Jones. Not just because he was a goal scorer, but because he responded to a letter I sent him with a hand written letter and a signed photograph, which I still have to this day. I liked Duane Darby too. He high-fived me once. It was the late 1990s, the RichardsonWeaver era and onwards, that brings so many memories. During that fateful 1997-98 season, Rovers trained on my school field. I would walk down and watch them during breaks and harass them. An autograph from Darren Esdaille or Harvey Cunningham anyone? Didn’t think so. I clearly remember approaching Prince Moncrieffe, asking him for his signature on my school planner; ‘Prince, can I have your autograph?’ He looked at me in bewilderment. ‘You know my name?’ He’d probably never been recognised as a footballer never mind asked for an autograph. But I was a little star struck, why wouldn’t I be? He was our star striker that season. He scored eight. The lads in my year talked about Liverpool, Sheffield Wednesday and Manchester United and most likely found it bizarre that I was watching the local team from Division Three. But I felt I knew more about football than any of the other kids at school. 30

That didn’t come from watching the Premier League on Sky Sports. That came from years of actually being at games, constantly learning from my dad, my uncle and proper fans stood nearby on the Pop Side. I knew what a football game smelt like, what it sounded like. I knew exactly how it felt to witness, first hand, your beloved team concede from a late corner on a bitter Tuesday night. I also knew the feeling of elation. Nobody can ever take away from me that moment when Ian Duerden’s third hit the net at Rushden, a game we had no right to win. My Dad and I were so full of joy and emotion that we cried together. It was magical.

Of course, in the 1990s, there was no football on the go. No Twitter updates, no Sky Sports app. A trip to the local paper shop to pick up the freshly printed Green ‘Un was a highlight of my Saturday evening. Children weren’t heard then. You couldn’t send a tweet to Football Heaven with the drfc hashtag and start a conversation with a fellow fan. Not I am in any way envious that I didn’t have that tool when I was younger. In the 1990s, it was much harder for @oldhamfan123 to hurt my feelings.

I loved our non-league era at Belle Vue. I loved the terracing, the smell of Bovril and fried onions; the dilapidated Town End, the pitch invasions after the Endsleigh Trophy finals, everything. The excitement of away days at Northwich Victoria and Stalybridge Celtic. Obviously, I don’t ever want to see us playing a league game against their like again, but I do miss it. The lower down you go in the pyramid, the friendlier the folk are. It’s a cliché but it’s so true. Ok, maybe not at Scarborough, but just mark that as an exception.

Rovers is in my blood, always will be. In truth, I didn’t really have a choice. Did I beg my dad to take me to Belle Vue as a six-year old? Did I suggest on a Friday evening that a trip to Leek the following day would be a great day out? No. But I am so grateful to him. I hope to one day have a son of my own and, If I do, he won’t have a choice either and he had better be bloody grateful.

FROM BENEATH THE STATUE MODERN FOOTBALLERS ARE PRIME ATHLETES, BUT GLEN WILSON WISHES THEY WEREN’T ‘Who’s the greatest player you’ve ever played against?’

It was as visually amusing a mismatch as you’re probably already picturing. Hulking great giants reliant on physicality and a big hoof up to a Lithuanian forward so vast he required planning permission, versus a team much smaller in stature whose game-plan centred on agility, pace and not giving away a corner. I was on the door-staff team – I was never quite sure how I got there, but as I’ve always preferred my nights out to free of the hard stares of SAS-fetishists I felt it disingenuous to ask.

From 90 minutes to Shoot to the matchday programme; a question asked of every footballer in every football interview I’ve ever chanced to read. Its true purpose as conspicuous as its asking; to tee up the interviewee for the biggest name-drop in their sepia-tinged locker. CLANG – Paul Gascoigne in a testimonial; CLANG – Eric Cantona in a beer advert; CLANG – Lothar Matthaus in some token charity wheeze.

Week one; plonked in midfield beneath a baking sun I sought an easy life and elected to mark their oldest player. A meek, diminutive, balding fella in his late 40s if not older; what damage could he possibly do?

As those who know me will attest, despite my willing, I am not a footballer; possessing as I do two standing feet and all the pace of a Samuel Beckett stage play. But then this is my gig, so indulge me if you will as I take my turn to answer that most-football of footballer questions. Come on, come with me to Lincoln and the summer of 2008.

It would transpire, a hell of a lot. He was phenomenal. He never ran; never broke sweat, yet was always in space and whenever the ball came his way he’d trap it instantly with a single touch, before pinging it at whomever he deigned worthy of receiving it. Five yards, 55 yards, it didn’t matter, he never missed – his team-mates would find themselves in possession before they knew they were open. And if none were on, he’d just give a little shrug and ping it into the top corner of the net instead.

It was here that I became a player in a match as regular as it was peculiar; a weekly fixture between the doorstaff of Lincoln’s nightclubs and the city’s Chinese takeaway workers. Eleven-a-side, rock-hard Astroturf pitch, and friendly in nature so long as the bouncers weren’t more than three goals down.

I never heard him speak – not in English nor Mandarin – instead he let his feet do the talking, save for the occasional wry chuckle as he left our two lummocking Central European centre-halves flailing in the wake of another of his pin-point through-balls. I’ve no idea of his back-story, I never even knew his name, but long beyond that idle summer of Astroturf-burns and hungover shin-pad searching he remains the greatest.

Now, even in the depths of non-league, you’ll struggle to find a player who looks like they might smoke a pipe, or a full-back with the proportions of a country publican – and the game is much poorer for it. You could offer me a hundred deep-lying trequartista’s with a fine-line in step-overs and I’ll trade them all for a fat moustachioed forward called Terry who smokes twenty-a-day, and runs a hardware stall down the market.

The thing is, for all the talent of Xi Dan (the Chinese Zidane) had he been young, athletic, or had a full head of hair I doubt I’d remember him all these years on. I’ve another regular footballing foe of that time who sticks in the mind; a big fat fella who ambled about for the Post Office in the Wednesday night six-a-side. Every eight weeks or so, his golden right boot would unfailingly carve us open. Jan Mailby we christened him. A decade on, he’s still there. Occupying a corner of my mind; pinging assist after assist. No matter how many times they made me look foolish, I loved both of those players because of what they ultimately were; footballers who don’t look like footballers. Men who prey on complacency and subvert expectation as deftly as they’d trap a goal-kick or down a pint of Batemans XXXB.

Where have they all gone? Where are the fat players? The bald ones? The combovers? Attilio Lombardo had the hairline of a sub-postmaster when he won the Scudetto with Sampdoria. Where are the John Doolans? The Paul Barnes? Always Paul Barnes; a man who could terrorise both a defence and a buffet in one afternoon. I loved these players, because they looked like normal blokes, and in doing so they duly represented hope. The hope that our chance hadn’t gone; that we could still make it. That we could still have our moment. That there was still that chance that one day Darren Ferguson might turn to look at the sub’s bench, pause, shake his head and then scan the seats of the West Stand before pointing at you. You, three pints to the wind and with your paunch resting snugly on your elasticated jeans. You are the answer. ‘Get warm’.

In the present-day footballing world of homogenised athletes – twenty two toned men all with the same boots, the same bantz, the same tattoos – it must be hard for anyone under the age of twenty to contemplate a world in which players of such unsuitable stature not only existed, but thrived, high above the leisure leagues and weekend kickabouts.

Of course it won’t happen. It can’t happen, but so long as there’s someone out there on the pitch whose horizontal hoops are doing them no favours, who looks like they’ve stubbed out a half-time cigarette in Donny Dog’s paw as they took the field, then at least there is hope. 33

THE GARY BRABIN MEMORIAL LOUNGE JAMES McMAHON HAS NEVER ACTUALLY MET PAUL MAYFIELD, BUT LOVES HIM ALL THE SAME I was there at Yeovil when the away support broke into song and applause, during the minute that coincided with Jill’s age – ‘there’s only one Paul Mayfield’ roaring out on the Huish Park terrace, as the man with the red and white gnome tried to hold back the tears.

I write this just back from Colchester. Not a great game, but a good day. Certainly comparatively. Like many of you, the last time I saw Rovers play in that motorway layby off the A12, we lost 4-1 and I came away resigned to the fact we were destined to soon spend at least a season in the Football League’s bottom division. Incidentally, I find it surprising to learn nobody has ever hoofed a ball from the Western Homes Community Stadium pitch, onto said road. Incredibly surprising. Jamie McCombe has played on that pitch in seasons past, don’t forget. Apparently, David Prutton did once kick the ball out of the stadium half a decade or so back, in anger at being sent off against Tranmere. But I digress. Last time I visited said ground, I did so on the back of squeezing in a quick pre-match tear around Colchester Zoo. Whilst there I saw a man with a swastika tattoo on his fist, verbally abusing a sleepy orangutan. So, yes, I enjoyed today’s visit much more than I have previous trips. In a season that’s offered a wealth of reasons to be proud of being a Rovers fan - on the pitch, and in the community - little has encapsulated what a great club we are, like the love and respect shown to one of our own, Paul Mayfield, in the wake of his partner Jill McGarry’s passing.

Seeing Paul and Andy Butler – who would later tell the press that the victory was dedicated to the memory of Jill – come together and embrace at the end of the game, might become my defining memory of a season I’m sure I’ll hold dear for many years to come. And then at Colchester, whilst serenading our dashing number nine with the best song we’ve come up with in years, ‘Who’s the best striker in the Football League? It’s you John John John’ to the tune of The Crystals 1963 hit Da Do Ron Ron, the song changed midway through to ‘Who’s the best supporter in the Football League? It’s you Paul Paul Paul’, in recognition of the EFL Fan of the Year Award collected by Paul Mayfield just a few days earlier. There’s a great quote from Carlo Ancelotti that says, ‘football is the most important of all of the all the least important things’. But sometimes it really does, legitimately, feel important. 34

Twenty-eight years I’ve been a Doncaster Rovers fan, yet I’ve never really, personally experienced Rovers as ‘family’. That not to say I never wanted it. I really, truly always wanted to feel that. But I came to the club independent of any family interest. I ended up supporting them as a kid at school, adrift in a sea of Donny Whites, mainly out of a desire to be contrary. Sure, there were a few seasons in the mid 1990s when a few lads at school got the bug and I’d go with them. But one day one of them got hit over the head by a Huddersfield Town fan brandishing an umbrella (quite rightly to be honest, after all he was calling said fan ‘umbrella wanker’) and they were never to return.

But there’s still something that makes me feel like I’ve been punched in the belly when I hear stories about Rovers fans going to the match with their dads, mums, their granddads or grandmas (I’ve never heard of this last one, but I would totally love for it to exist), or how Rovers fandom has been in their family for years.

And subsequently, much of my Rovers fandom has been a relatively solo affair. I went to Wembley with neutral friends who’d never seen Rovers before (but could squeeze into some of my old shirts). I was at Brentford, alone (which is fine, I really didn’t need anyone seeing what a mess I was come the final whistle).

And yet I love Paul Mayfield, despite our relationship for the last three decades only equating to the two of us nodding and smiling at each other inside dilapidated football grounds up and down the country. I loved him as a little kid, and I love him as a man, for he and I have shared so many things. Things only a few thousand people on this earth have ever shared. He has been a constant in my life, present during so many of my happiest and unhappiest times. I would do a great many things for Paul, despite us never talking.

In recent years I’ve met other Rovers fans through the fanzine – made good friendships even, proper ones where you send them Christmas cards and that. A few through Twitter. Even a couple through music; everyone in the music industry essentially supports Tottenham, Arsenal or West Ham, so if you work in music and you’re a Doncaster Rovers fan, you stick out like a septic thumb.

I might start by saying ‘hello’ to him instead of nodding next time we find ourselves together. After all, there’s only one Paul Mayfield. 35

WINDMILLS OF YOUR MIND DUTCH UNCLE EXAMINES WHETHER ROVERS HAVE MASTERED THE ART OF LEAVING THINGS LATE When, last season, Rovers came back from 2-1 down with 90 minutes gone to defeat Crewe 3-2, it inevitably conjured up images of the late goals Manchester United scored under our manager’s father. (And by the way, it is about time someone put it that way round). Incidentally, that match remains the only time I can recall Rovers scoring twice to win after being behind going into injury time.

So, as well as counting the total of goals scored and conceded after 80 minutes, I’ve also compared the score after 80 minutes with the final score, and counted the number of points ‘dropped’ or ‘gained’ in the last ten minutes. As the current three points for a win system is asymmetric - in that conceding an equaliser means two points dropped while scoring one gains only one point – I have used two points for a win and one point for a draw to give a fairer measure as to whether we have been better at coming from behind with late goals than we have surrendering them. And lastly, remember that in comparing scores at 80 minutes with full-time, some late equalisers or winners might not appear to count. For example, should Rovers score on 85 minutes then concede in injury time in a match that was 1-1 on 80 minutes, this would count neither as a point gained or lost; even though you’d leave the stadium cursing the latter.

We Rovers fans tend to be a pessimistic lot – but is this with good reason? Is our paranoid memory accurate, in that late in matches do we concede more often than we score? Has it always been so? How have our recent managers fared, relative to each other? Leaving aside managerial tactics, to answer these questions I took a high-level overview, and gathered and analysed data on games in which Rovers either scored or conceded goals (or both) in the last 10 minutes of a match. I was able to find data for the last 24 seasons, though do bear in mind this may not be 100% accurate, as in a few cases goal times may be listed in different sources as both 79 and 80 minutes.

All of which produces the table opposite. Since 1993-94 Rovers have conceded 267 goals in the last 10 minutes and scored 233, and have dropped 115 points and picked up only 88 - so we are significantly in the negative on both counts. Unsurprisingly the worst season for conceding late was the mess of 1997-98 when we conceded a whopping 24 goals in the last 10 minutes.

Of course not all late goals make a difference – for example, when John Marquis scored in the 81st minute against Cheltenham the score went from 1-0 to 2-0 without changing the overall result. 36

Season 1993-94 1994-95 1995-96 1996-97 1997-98 1998-99 1999-2000 2000-01 2001-02 2002-03 2003-04 2004-05 2005-06 2006-07 2007-08 2008-09 2009-10 2010-11 2011-12 2012-13 2013-14 2014-15 2015-16 2016-17

Tier 4th 4th 4th 4th 4th 5th 5th 5th 5th 5th 4th 3rd 3rd 3rd 3rd 2nd 2nd 2nd 2nd 3rd 2nd 3rd 3rd 4th

Goals F A 5 11 6 10 9 10 8 10 8 24 14 11 7 15 6 5 8 10 17 7 10 3 15 7 10 7 7 10 13 4 3 13 13 11 6 19 5 16 13 12 5 19 16 9 13 15 16 9

From losing D W 3 0 1 0 3 0 2 0 3 0 4 1 1 0 2 0 3 0 6 1 4 0 3 0 4 0 1 1 5 0 0 0 5 0 5 0 1 0 8 0 4 0 7 0 4 0 3 0

From ahead D L Swing 3 1 -2 5 0 -4 4 0 -1 3 0 -1 5 0 -2 4 0 2 7 2 -10 2 0 0 5 0 -2 1 0 7 0 0 4 5 0 -2 2 1 0 6 0 -3 2 0 3 6 1 -8 6 0 -1 8 0 -3 3 3 -8 3 0 5 9 0 -5 2 0 5 6 0 -2 2 0 1

Totals

223 267

However, given that in most cases Rovers were already trailing, only five made any difference to the final result. It’s perhaps surprising that our worst season for a results swing was not one of the four relegation seasons in this period, but 1999-2000, our second season in the Conference, when we dropped a net 10 points. The 2008-09 season was the only season we failed to gain a single point in the last 10 minutes, and produced our lowest number of late goals; just three.

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It is interesting to compare the records of our last few managers, as seen in the table at the foot of this page. The stats show that it was under Dave Penney that Rovers were most effective for late goals, and under Sean O’Driscoll that we were at our most charitable; Darren Ferguson is still to make a mark in either direction. However, the data would suggest that the level of football was of greater significance than the manager at the helm; perhaps unsurprisingly we do badly at Championship level and much better when playing lower than that.

Finally, on 11 occasions a game has been turned on its head by two goals in the last 10 minutes and defeat has been snatched from the jaws of victory - or vice versa. Three times we have come from behind after 80 minutes to win, and eight times we have lost after leading after 80 minutes. The most recent case being the infamous 3-4 defeat at home to Portsmouth in 2012. And that Crewe game? Well that doesn’t even count, as despite the events of added time, the score was 1-1 on both 80 and 90 minutes.

On the flip side, our Conference promotion season brought the most number of late goals; 17, which doesn’t include the most famous of the lot; Francis Tierney’s golden goal. That season also produced our best positive swing, with plus seven. The following season, when Rovers again won promotion, they did so without losing a single point to a late goal.

Manager Penney O’Driscoll Saunders Flynn Dickov Jones Ferguson

Goals A F 57 29 40 56 12 20 6 6 22 30 3 2 26 19

Points Gained Lost Swing +9 12 21 -14 30 16 -3 9 6 +2 1 3 = 11 11 = 1 1 -1 7 6

REG IPSA: LEGAL BEAGLE ASKED TO MOVE ON FROM THE BENCH OUTSIDE LONDIS OUR LEGAL EXPERT ANSWERS YOUR QUESTIONS TRIPPING OFF

ROMANTIC PLAICE

Dear Reg,

I was well chuffed when Rovers wrapped up promotion, I’d put a bet on us to go up at 20/1. Unfortunately, I also promised the wife a mini-break with me winnings. Where can we go that’s nice? I had a 50p stake.

After the 5-1 win at Grimsby I copped off with a Cleethorpes lass round the back of a chippy. Got home and realised I left my ‘Kelvin Climbs’ underpants behind. They were my lucky pair as well. Should I go back?

Horace Stables, Thorne

REG RESPONDS Well, with that bounty might I suggest Sandall Park. A bit of greenery, fresh air and I can even lend you my tent. For £3. And you’ll still have change for some grub at the cafe. Try not to get too amorous mind, it’s only a two-man, and the noise upsets the ducks.

ADD VICE Dear Reg, Are you at all qualified to give this advice? Percy Gonmad, Bawtry

REG RESPONDS Yes, I’m a respected professional. Now get bent.

Duncan Disorderly, Intake

REG RESPONDS Never go back mush; better to have loved and lost… particularly the latter when it comes to folk from Cleethorpes.

STAR LETTER Dear Reg, To celebrate Rovers good form I have made some new wine using thistles, twigs and berries, I have sent you a bottle so you can up with a nice name for it. What do you reckon? Lal Brini, Hyde Park

REG RESPONDS Just tried a quick glass. Given its keen flavour, pretty powerful punch and unmistakable after-effects I would call it…Domestos. 38

HUNT DOUBLE Dear Reg, My mate Fred is four foot three. He used to earn a crust as a stunt double for Charlie Drake and then Ronnie Corbett. Unfortunately work’s mysteriously dried up of late. He’s 92, can still get about and has his own hair and teeth. Any ideas – he needs the money for a new water bed for him and his girlfriend. Don’t ask about the old one. Ronnie Ronson, Wadworth

REG RESPONDS If he can put a bobble in his hair and get a Rovers tracksuit on then he’s in luck; we can use him to distract the groupies that hang around the Keepmoat waiting for Alfie May to leave the ground. Tell him to pop down to my office, at the bar in the Black Bull, I’m happy to volunteer my time as his agent… for thirty percent.