Leadbelly - Match Box Blues

Lee Dorsey - Working In A Coal Mine

Blackburn Rovers F.C. - By Gum We’ll Make It A Day A classic Golden Oldie ?

That’s the one I meant - Stuart Baird

The Bar-Kays - Soul Finger

That looks like Birdy 2 at the front of the queue in the 2nd picture. Next to the guy who is anticipating Covid 30 years ahead of everyone else.

Buddy Rich - And The Beat Goes On

Electric Light Orchestra - Mr Blue Sky

I think you’ll find that the Trophy Room Restaurant at t’Turf is just a Burger van with a silver plated teapot on the counter.

The Spencer Davis Group - Keep On Runnin’

The Rolling Stones -Time Is On My Side

Ray Charles - Hit The Road Jack

Eddie Floyd - Knock On Wood

Little Richard - Long Tall Sally

Blue Oyster Cult - (Don’t Fear) The Reaper

I’m also loving these personal memories from everyone, especially Tyrone. Whilst I have chipped in with a couple of tales, they only relate to what happened outside of the ground. I really wish I could remember more about what actually happened on the pitch, particularly the 60’s. Reading some of the details from you all makes me wonder what I was actually looking at during the games. I have a vivid memory of what the players looked like, but very little about individual players or games. I can remember going from one end of the ground to the other, even things like the “Beware Of Pickpockets “ posters pasted outside the ground when the Scousers were in town. I never went to watch any of the other local teams play when we were playing away, like Tyrone did. I was well into fishing so I would get on the Ribble bus down to the De Tabley and my friend and I would fish on a stretch a little upstream from there. As it got to the late 60’s work commitments meant I was only able to go to midweek games and then for most of the 70’s I worked around the country so I saw even less matches unless we happened to be playing somewhere near and could swap shifts with someone. Keep the memories flooding in guys, absolutely brilliant.

The Supremes - Love Child

I was on a coach that got bricked on the way out of Halifax that night, 1973 I think, as we passed a derelict building site. A perfect ambush place with plenty of Nori’s for ammunition. The skylights on the coach went through, but fortunately non of the main windows smashed. Suddenly, a sports car drove onto the site and chased the yobs who had to literally run for their lives and leap over a wall to escape. The car returned to huge cheers from the watching coach passengers. It turned out the lad driving the car had just stolen it after first stealing a motor bike in Blackburn to get there. As we drove through Todmorden, a couple of lads threw the broken Perspex skylight pieces at a group of, probably, Dingles standing outside a pub. Crazy days.

That’s right. After our Saturday morning kick about by the side of the Fernhurst, one of my friends and myself would grab a quick lunch and then go to his grandma’s house on Nuttall St next to the Darwen End and collect money, 6d a time, for parking cars between the gable ends. We always said we would be there all the time, but just before kick off we would go onto the Darwen End to watch the game. With a few minutes to go we would make our way to the top of the steps and as soon as the ref blew for full time, we dashed back to continue “looking after“ the cars. Worked every time.

The Marvelettes - When You’re Young And In Love

The Three Degrees - When Will I See You Again

On match day mornings, my mates and I used to have a kick about at the side of The Fernhurst pub with two oak trees conveniently growing as goalposts. One Saturday, a group of Everton youths turned up and we thought there was going to be trouble. However, they asked if they could challenge us to a game which was, amazingly, played in a very friendly way. After about 45 mins we ended the game and the Everton lads thanked us for the game and wished us well for the season. I was amazed at how well they behaved, not like “typical Scousers” I had heard about. However, as they walked away they spotted a full crate of milk outside of the corner shop and promptly helped themselves to a pint or two each and walked off along Bolton Rd. They were “typical Scousers” after all.

I was at Matt’s final game. I remember it mainly for getting accidentally whacked in the face with a rattle as I climbed over the wall with all the other kids to get on the pitch. By the time I got home a huge lump had appeared over my eye and my mum was convinced I must have been in a fight and threatened to stop me going to Ewood again. I’ve had a lot more painful visits since then without getting hit in the face, but still go back for more. That’s life being a Rovers supporter, I guess.

Suzi Quatro - Can The Can

Sly And The Family Stone - Dance To The Music