A trip back in time to Copacabarnsley

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/sport/2008/03/06/a_trip_back_in_time_to_copacab.html</p><h1>A trip back in time to Copacabarnsley</h1><p class="standfirst">An FA Cup quarter-final against Chelsea evokes memories of success and failure from times gone by for every level of Barnsley supporter</p> <div id="twocolumnleftcolumninsideleftcolumn"> <h2>Ian Winwood</h2> </div> <div id="twocolumnleftcolumninsiderightcolumn"> <div id="twocolumnleftcolumntopbaselinetext">March 6, 2008 3:19 PM</div>

Back in 1997, the now defunct Barnsley fanzine Red Army ran a spoof competition. The prize was to win Michael Parkinson and Harold 'Dickie' Bird's entire collection of Barnsley FC match tickets. Actually, match ticket - the joke being that the pair had only ever attended one game, the one against Bradford City at Oakwell in May 1997 which famously clinched the Tykes' promotion to the top flight for the first time in their (then) 110 year history.</p>

When Barnsley go tumbling out of the FA Cup at the feet of Chelsea on Saturday, I can at least be grateful for one thing: it'll mean Dickie Bird will no longer be on the telly. As a Barnsley fan in exile - worse yet, living within walking distance of the Emirates Stadium, so that everyone thinks my red and white winter warmer is an Arsenal scarf - part of me winces whenever I see him. It's strange, but the only place in the country where the erstwhile cricket umpire isn't a national treasure is his home town, and the fact that he's happy to jump on the Barnsley bandwagon whenever it pulls up beneath the bright lights of a big stadium is part of the reason why.</p>

I am, of course, hoping that Dickie Bird on the telly will be the worst that happens on Saturday, but I fear not. Part of this is reverse psychology, the idea that if I believe Barnsley will lose then Barnsley will win, because Barnsley will always let you down. But a larger part of this fear is that, well, we're playing Chelsea, and you know what they're like. Last time they visited our part of the People's Republic of South Yorkshire, they netted six. I don't believe we would have scored were we still playing now.</p>

That was back in our Premiership season, the dizzy days of 1997 and 1998, when the most unglamorous team in English football gained promotion to the high table with a squad - not a team, a squad - that cost &pound;830,000. For a time there, we were the country's second team; we may have crashed the party, but at least we did it with style. It was, after all, just like watching Brazil.</p>

Thinking back, it's difficult not to get a bit emotional about it all. The fact that the team managed to accumulate 35 points on their way to relegation seems remarkable now, as does the memory of Clint Marcelle's 88th-minute goal which, on the previous season's penultimate weekend, sent Barnsley to the Premier League. The poet Ian Macmillan summed the afternoon up perfectly, with these words:</p>

I could see them looking in the champagne air
For their mates who'd died and should have been there
For parents who took them and stood in the cold
For year after year and just wouldn't be told
That Barnsley would never have a place in the sun
It's for people like that that this game was won</p>

I don't believe any Barnsley fan can think about the team without recalling this miracle, but these past couple of weeks my recollections have been more poignant than usual. The reason for this is that a decade ago the Tykes reached the quarter-finals of the FA Cup, just as they have now, and for a moment there things got so silly I believed we were going to win it. The reason for this would have been clear to any right-thinking person: the last time Barnsley won the Cup was in 1912, the year the Titanic sunk. In 1997, the film Titanic was released. In 1912 Barnsley weren't relegated. So in 1997 they wouldn't be relegated either. It was so obvious I put a fiver on it.</p>

God, what days, and what a run. Each of Barnsley's four opponents in that season's FA Cup came from the Premiership. In the third round we knocked out Bolton at Oakwell. In the fourth round we drew with Tottenham at White Hart Lane, effectively a home game for me. I remember being frozen, both from the weather and from the fear that David Ginola struck within me each time he touched the ball. But we held out, and then beat them at the second time of asking.</p>

Next up, Manchester United.</p>

I remember the draw for the quarter-finals being made before our tie at Old Trafford, which kicked off on a Sunday evening. I remember joking that I wanted to know who our next opponents would be. I remember the action slowing to a crawl as Peter Schmeichel mis-kicked a back-pass to the feet of John Hendrie, who scored. Four months earlier Barnsley had lost 7-0 at Old Trafford, possibly the most exhilarating example of ruthless football I've ever seen, and here we were in the lead. The lead! I remember being denied a last-minute penalty that could hardly have been more blatant had Gary Neville pulled out a chainsaw and cut off Andy Liddell's head. Not bothered; didn't need one. We beat them in the replay.</p>

And then there were eight. I will always hold a grudge against Newcastle United for what they did to the 5,500 visiting supporters at St James' Park 10 years ago this weekend. For the FA Cup quarter-final, the Magpies divided our support into three separate areas of the ground, an act as mean-spirited as the Premiership itself. 3-1, that day we were beaten by a better team, as Newcastle themselves would be two months later, by Arsenal, at Wembley Stadium. As we all trundled down the gangways, the PA announcer told us what great supporters we'd been. Patronised again, I thought.</p>

2008 is not quite Copacabarnsley all over again, and how could it be? The footballing story of the season does begin with 'B', but this time it's Bristol City. Me, I've turned into the kind of fan who doesn't get round to buying a ticket for the FA Cup quarter-final, but who will get on a train to see his team lose 4-0 at Coventry City. I am the opposite of a glory-hunter, the opposite of Harold 'Dickie' Bird. Of course, this tune will have changed if we venture further, and if I have to board a Metropolitan Line train for Wembley Park.</p>

But while I'm looking forward to that, I'm thinking of this: since defeating Liverpool at Anfield, Barnsley haven't won a game. A decade ago our wanderings to the quarter-final came as a prelude to relegation. And while I'd love to go to Wembley this season, I'd like more to go to Ipswich Town the next.</p> </div>

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Some good stuff in there (edit)

The poem brought a tear to my eye but then again I am a big girl's blouse. And I too bear that grudge against Newcastle - I'll never forget that and the lack of respect that allowed them to do it. But as has been discussed on here before, Parky's a much better target than DB who does actually get to Oakwell quite regularly.

 

Dickie

yes he is pain the ass, but he is a Barnsley supporter and does go to watch Barnsley and has for many years. So stick on thet count is not justified!

 

Good post

I hadn't seen the poem before and I too am a big girls blouse!

 

If you're a big girl's blouse...

then so am I.

 

RE: Dickie

He's a **** .....simple

 

It's like a group therapy session on here

Come to soft gits anonymous and follow our 12-step program. Not a dry eye in the place.

 

RE: Dickie

is he gay?

 

RE: Dickie

"Im married to my cricket..........and my sister.....sob.....bless her"

tosspot

 

RE: Dickie

confirmed bachelor.. Ive got a tear in my eye and errrr alump in my throat?lol

 

Ive always liked Ian Winwoods stuff. Hes wrote for Kerrang for years. He was the the one that called Nickelback a set of "cnuts" after hed met them.

 

RE: Dickie

same dickie who has been to bramall lane more than once/

 

the 1st time i have seen that poem, i'm off to bed now with tears in my eyes and tommorow i hope i'm looking up to those champagne sky's and telling my dad who died in january that, was for HIM