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BOLTON v MIDDLESBROUGH, BLAST FROM THE PAST
So the battle of the prospective England managers, as it will undoubtedly be billed. Whoever wins this gets the job or something. Hey, it seems as reasonable a premise as any other to aid the FA's choice. Perhaps they will do Bingo at half time hosted by Peter Kay to see who has the right to lead the national side?
After all, there are enough old timers in the Bolton ranks for them to get really excited over a game of Bingo. I wonder who would win - asinine Alledyce or 'magnificent' McClaren? Either way, it will probably be more exciting than this non-entity of a match.
A Cam Goes Wandering
Bolton 1-1 Middlesbrough, 09/09/1995
We'd just been promoted automatically from the First Division whilst a Colin Todd/formerly Rioch managed Bolton had been promoted through the play-offs. We'd just moved into the Riverside, I had the strange sensation of RENEWING a season ticket and we had Bolton away early in the season.
Living fairly close by - Merseyside - I'd say the Wirral but it sounds snobbish. I'd also say Higher Bebington but that sounds even worse although both would be true - I decided to go with a mate from Uni who also lived in Merseyside. I'd say Formby but that sounds like a music hall act so I won't. I'd say Freshfields, but that sounds like a crap sitcom from the 80's starring Julia McKenzie, so I won't. But both would be true.
Any-hoo, we left Lime Street station early morning around 10am. I was twenty-four and not long out of Uni so for me Saturday at 10am was still bloody early. For those of you not familiar with Lime Street station a departure from there gives one the same sort of feeling as that upon entering a Murmansk slaughterhouse.
Quick change at Oxford Road station - why I'm telling you the finer details of my rail journey Christ only knows - before we arrived at Notlob station, which was quite pleasant as I recall. After that, we did a quick search for the ground.
Now this was well before the Reebok was ever thought about and they were in the fantastic stadium that was Burnden Park. We got there early - stupid bastards - and found a pub. Now, all the pubs anywhere near the ground had bloody big signs saying "NO AWAY FANS", which was something of a problem for me and my mate as we were both away fans. However neither of us had any colours on, he was a true blue Scouser (although he was a Liverpool fan) and I could fake a Scouse accent so we felt we'd be ok.
Four pints of Thwaites Ecky-thump Ale (not an actual Thwaites brew) and we were ready.
And as we entered the ground the first words that flashed through my mind were the same as those of Luke Skywalker when he first set eyes on the Millennium Falcon: "What a heap of junk". I said something like that to my mate, who having that cheeky chappy ready wit of a Scouser about him, replied something along the lines of "now you know how I felt the first time I went to Ayresome Park" - cheeky twat!
In fact everybody entering the ground said much the same: "makes you realise how shit Ayresome was", "fuck this place is crap", "what a craphole" and so on.
Anyway, I'll be honest and say that the euphoria of the Boro having a new stadium, the shock at the crapness of Burnden Park and the four pints of Thwaites Ecky-thump ale makes my memories of the match slight, in fact none-existent except that I think it was a draw.
After the match we headed towards the bright lights of Bolton to see if there was much night life.
Twenty minutes later we were on a train back to Liverpool...
Bob End
Bolton 1 Middlesbrough 0, 11/5/1995
Middlesbrough 0 Bolton 0, 9/04/1974
Bolton away in the 1995 promotion season. We got beat 1-0, with a fat Bolton
lad explaining like a banshee that nothing was over until the fat lady sings, meaning they were going to overhaul us.
I asked if he meant his mam and the stewards had to deal with the fat boy.
'Me? Don't think so mate?'
Always wanted to see him again because we did go up. Other memory is they had a shop jutting into their ground behind the goal.
Extraordinary. It came within about ten metres of the net so knackering the views all round. Neat though, you could get three bri-nylon shirts for the price of two at half time...
Andrew Morgan
Middlesbrough 1-4 Bolton, 17/02/1996
This was the season that convinced me to be a Boro fan after about six months of being an interested 'neutral'. I know I got into football late (and I hope I am starting to make up for this now) but it wasn't until secondary school that my eyes were opened to the beautiful game.
Indeed what with peer pressure and the desire to fit in at an awkward stage of my life (I was 12), football started to assume an increasingly important part of my life as I tried to convince people that I was one of the 'cool kids'. Thus by the time 1996 had dawned I was seriously immersed in the game and was following it almost religiously (I even insisted on getting the dreaded Sky around this time too). I never knew then that it would lead to all the pain that it has given me since...
The Boro at the time were going through their traditional post-Christmas slump of winning bugger-all matches in the first three months of the year (I know, scary with respect to this season isn't it?). This was the first post-Christmas slump I had experienced and I must admit its magnetic allure was one of the reasons why I decided to follow the fortunes of my local club.
Hey, I was a depressive and I wanted more depression- typical sado-masochistic urges of the average pre-pubescent teen but I guess it made sense at the time. Maybe I felt sorry for them? Maybe I felt sorry for myself? Maybe there was a spiritual empathy? I just don't know. But I've never looked back from the Boro or the depression since. A decade is a long time after all. But in many ways some things never change.
As an innocent naïve youth I naturally thought that getting wins against promoted opposition was easy because promoted sides were usually relegated in their first season in the top flight because they were generally weaker. I had no conception of what desire, teamwork or good management could do to a side. But then the Boro were managed by Bryan Robson at this point and I don't think he had any conception of this either so I can hardly be held account to that one.
Either way I fully expected a comfortable home win against the north-west club and for us to finally pick up some points after losing our previous seven league games. After all, Bolton were rock bottom at this point so surely we could break our hoodoo, particularly at home?
Evidently not, as you can imagine my young horror as I watched one of the most humiliating performances I have ever sat through. We simply weren't in it, particularly in the second half when we were completely over-ran. Indeed the performance was very much like the Blackburn home performance on Boxing Day this year come to think of it. Sometimes we never learn.
Defensively we were poor as well, gifting our opposition with soft goals time and time again. You could tell our confidence was low after not picking up any points since 23rd December and both the players and fans were apprehensive about the future. This result didn't help that- indeed it just made things worse. Pollock scored to take the score to 1-1 but even that did not provide any spur or impetus that day. We occasionally knocked on the door but we were easily shut out by Bolton's burly full-backs- a favour that we could hardly say we returned.
Thus we were well beaten by a very poor side- indeed a side that were destined to finish bottom of the League a full nine points adrift from safety. The Boro meanwhile managed to draw their next game against Coventry but were still unable to pick up a win until a Graeme Kavanagh penalty secured a 1-0 win at Leeds at the end of March. And after that we were only going to pick up one more win for the rest of the campaign- at Sheffield Wednesday the following week.
We finished a disappointing, but lucky 12th that season. Indeed if it hadn't been for the seven points we managed to pick up in this three week spell around the turn of April we would have been relegated with Bolton. But on this February day safety seemed far from likely- eight straight defeats and no hope whatsoever. But at least we pulled out of it. Only to be relegated the following season.
I guess that's irony for you...
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