Bert Tyldesley followed the fortunes of Bolton Wanderers through eight decades and kept a diary of his time in the terraces. With the kind permission of his family, we bring you his reflections on that journal, entitled: 75 Years a Wandering.
On the last day of 1994 the Wanderers stood sixth in the First Division, eight points behind Middlesbrough.
This was no mean achievement considering there had been times during the first half of the season when they were more on nodding terms with the relegation candidates rather than with those the tipsters had predicted for the top. Plus the fact that since September they had been embroiled in some hard-fought games in the Coca Cola Cup against first-class opposition, all away, except for the two-legged first round tie against Ipswich Town of the Premier League.
During these battles they had beaten Ipswich 3-0 away and 1-0 at home, First Division Sheffield United away, 2-1, and then just four days after one of their worst league performances – a 3-0 defeat at Barnsley – they thrashed Premier League West Ham 3-1 at Upton Park on November 30, a victory which earned a home tie against Norwich City in the next round.
Always at the back of the mind was the fear that history would repeat itself and, as in the previous season, when 64 games left the squad gasping for breath, they would fall between two stools.
Back at Burnden for the first match of the New Year the Wanderers earned – and that is the right word – three points against promotion rivals Reading in a dour match settled in the ninth minute when Simon Coleman scored his second goal for the club. His first had been on debut against Burnley at Turf Moor.
Coleman turned in a parried David Lee shot. It doesn’t matter how they go in, as they say, just so long that they do. And to such levels are football purists reduced.
Still lying sixth in the division and three points behind second-placed Wolves, January 7 saw Wanderers make their bow in the FA Cup, and after their heroics of the previous two seasons under the Rioch management, big things were expected of them by the pundits. But not by an old man in the Wing Stand at Burnden Park, however, who collectively prayed that their encounter with Portsmouth at Fratton Park would result in an honourable 1-0 defeat by a penalty that the whole world would see on TV was a diabolical refereeing decision. As it was, Gordon Sharrock’s comment that the Wanderers will have to look elsewhere for their taste of glory this season – Jim Smith’s Pompey had a bigger appetite – just about summed it up. Level at 1-1 by half time, 3-1 at full time, with a formation which showed no further intention nor interest, plus no injuries, saw us nicely into our next quest for glory.
This was to be four days later when 17,029 spectators gathered to watch the Wanderers face up to yet another of the big names, Norwich, in the quarter final of the Coca Cola Cup.
Strangely enough, most of us old codgers approached this game with far less apprehension than we would approach a game with say, Reading or Tranmere. After all, in the past two seasons we had defeated Liverpool, Everton, Arsenal, Aston Villa, Ipswich and West Ham of the Premier League elite. What did we have to fear from Norwich?
Not a lot, as it turned out. We never actually buried the canaries but a barnstorming start had them rocking, with David Lee and Alan Thompson on the flanks, breathing down their necks all the time.
Perhaps we were a little disappointed at half time not to have anything to show for our superiority, and perhaps we were a little apprehensive after the break when the Canaries became more adventurous apparently having decided that the gale had blown itself out.
Fortunately, just when it seemed the issue might genuinely be in doubt the little man decided to take the matter into his own hands (or feet). There was about 25 minutes remaining on my watch when David Lee - not always the favourite among the denizens of the geriatric benches in a Block A - and certainly not amongst the standing multitudes on the Manchester Road Terrace in front of us – took a pass from Jason McAteer in front of the Burnden Stand and set off with a determination that immediately set the Bolton section of the crowd alive with the buzz of excitement.
They were not to be disappointed. Leaving one, two then three defenders floundering in his wake, he still had enough energy to get into the penalty area and release a right-footed shot to leave young Norwich keeper David Marshall with no chance.
There was still defending to do in the last 25 minutes – Alan Stubbs and Simon Coleman magnificent – and then with the last act of the game Jimmy Phillips committed a foul in the worst of positions.
Ian Crook’s free kick left his foot at speed and seemed destined for the top corner until the twisting, arching form of Keith Branagan came out of nowhere to divert the ball over the bar.
Down the road at Ewood Park, Blackburn had just paid £2million for Tim Flowers. Keith arrived for nothing from one of Rioch’s old clubs, Millwall. I have seen both keepers play and could not put a single pound note between them.
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