No ball had been kicked, it was Port Vale to play,

When we realised that Sasa was on his way,

But Frandsen, Johansone, Tommo, and Scott,

Were the creative force giving the early top spot

It was Keith, Chris and Gerry, the backbone of the team,

Who sweat blood to ensure that the Wanderers stayed mean.

Goals were conceded, but defeats were rare

Many teams were destroyed with our midfield flair.

Jimmy and Gudni played their part,

In that position you need skill, lungs and heart.

To cover the flanks in defence or attack,

Team balance depends wholly on the wing full back.

Up front we had Super John, and Nathan too.

Their goals made us a super crew.

It was at fortress Burnden rarely failing to score,

Causing fear and apprehension in many a back four.

Opposing teams came, and then took their leave,

It was the last Burnden welcome they would ever receive.

The nostalgia, the past glories, the sad times, and good.

The atmosphere at old Burnden just flowed in our blood.

We've seen great players here, and then they've gone.

But Burnden is synonymous with the legend of one.

In football, Nat Lofthouse is a name to revere,

And in Burnden Park history this man has no peer.

Now the "Reebok" beckons with the Premiership dream.

It's a glorious setting for our fabulous team.

But we'll always spare a thought for those Burnden years,

As the new stadium rings to the superwhite cheers. By D J Vickers

Seaford Road, Harwood

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