Why Rams fans reign supreme

There is a certain art to being an underdog. It demands skills that successful people can only dream about ever attaining.
It is in the very blood of Derby County fans and manifests itself superbly in the face of the biggest challenges.
For those of you who couldn’t be there, let me take you to Old Trafford on Tuesday night, a football stadium modestly called the Theatre of Dreams.
Lit up like Las Vegas, bright red neon signs shout out the club’s name, lest we should forget. Chance would be a fine thing.
Outside, a mass of burger bars and merchandise stalls, give the appearance of a tinkers’ fairground. A bit down market, I summised, for a club ranked the richest in any sport, with an estimated value of £897m.
It all makes me feel faintly queasy. You can almost smell the arrogance. In case you haven’t guessed, I am one of the many people who cannot stand Manchester United.
For every fan they have in Japan – because that’s where most of them live, I gather – there is a sane and sensible person over here who thinks that for one sports club to have so much is hopelessly unfair, destabilising and unhealthy.
And what does it get you? Fans all over the world who have never set foot in Manchester, hapless UK-born glory-hunters who latch on to the Red Devils because it’s easy to support a winning team and corporate boxes full of hangers on more interested in knocking back the vino than watching the game.
“Have you ever been to Manchester?” is the chant Rams fans love to yell at away supporters when Utd come to Pride Park.
“We support our local team,” was the key message they sent out to the massed ranks of Reds at a quiet Old Trafford. For a stadium that holds 76,000 you could have heard a pin drop at times. Well, you might have done if the black and white army hadn’t been so noisy. Fans didn’t even use their seats, standing up throughout the game, scarves held aloft or swirling wildly.
Home supporters, a tad irritated and clearly bemused by the exuberance of people supporting a struggling team in a lower division – who were losing – did have a feeble effort to bring us down. About half a dozen managed to muster: “You’re going down with a fiver in the bank,” to which our lot swiftly retorted. “We beat you with a fiver in the bank.”
Childish, I know, but it makes you feel better.
Love or hate football, everyone should respect the ceaseless devotion of Rams fans, their wit, repartee and stoical loyalty. They are easily among the best supporters in the land.
It was heartwarming to be among them, people like Adie Prince, 23, who reckoned he’d been a Rams fan so long “it probably started when I was a foetus”. He’d travelled from his home near London to be at the game – but was swift to point out that he hails from Kilburn. “I support my local team!”
Then there was 64-year-old Maureen Howorth who went to watch the Rams for the first time at the age of nine 55 years ago. She was at Old Trafford with her son, Ian, 40, having taken him to his first game when he was a boy.
The myth that women don’t like football is hopelessly out-of-tune with reality.
Among many Ramettes on the road were identical twin sisters, Ann and Beverly Green, 43, from West Hallam, supporters since the age of 10. They booked time off work to go to Old Trafford, as did thousands of others. More than 9,000 made the journey, from tots to pensioners, a family of fans.
Among older supporters was Spondon’s Richard Piggott, 62, a fan since 1957. “People sing ‘We’re Derby ‘til we die’ and they mean it,” he said.
It said it all for me on Tuesday night when many Man Utd’ fans left the stadium before the end of a game. No wild celebrations because they had clinched a trip to Wembley. I am so glad I support my local team.

Cloughie and Burtonians...

Every reader of the Evening Telegraph should spare a thought for all-shook-up Burtonians, me being one of them.
Now there’s an admission. Having worked on this newspaper for 14 years, the fact that I don’t actually originate from Derby is a fact I usually keep tucked away.
But not today. That’s because I feel torn in half like an old rag by the news that Cloughie jnr has left Burton Albion to take over the reins at Derby County.
I am delighted for Nigel, of course, but there is one problem. On the one hand I am a huge fan of Derby County, on the other I am a huge fan of Burton Albion.
Consequently, I feel emotionally drained and confused. I buy season tickets for both clubs. I take my sons to Rams games while my dad takes the lads to the Brewers, and, when time allows, I go to the Pirelli Stadium too.
I was there on Boxing Day along with my entire family – aged from seven to 70 – in corporate hospitality for the York City game. What a huge success that was. Not only did Burton win (as usual), the food was great, and 300 people were being catered for! Corporate was a complete sell-out, hardly surprising at £35 for a three-course meal, coffee and the match. Plus, in a sweet touch, the entire Brewers team mingled with guests before the game, signing autographs for the kids and stopping for chit-chats with Albion stalwarts.
“I bet you dread this don’t you,” I said to star striker Greg Pearson as he gamely posed for a snapshot with my son. He burst out laughing but, like all the Brewers boys, humbly performed his PR duties with a smile.
Now this is what football should be all about, I thought as I tucked into my roast beef – friendly, family-orientated and without an over-sized ego in sight.
More than that, I felt great pride in both the Brewers – flying high at the top of the Blue Square Premier – and Burton itself, the place I call home.
Forget the Cotswolds, London or Peak District beauty spots, there are few better places to be than Burton. No wonder Cloughie stayed with us for 10 years.
Locals call it “a big village” and, laughably, Westfield-blessed Derbeians often come to us to do their shopping.
“Well, it’s all so easily accessible and flat,” they tell me, “and you can park close to the shops.” I can also tell you that it has never taken me three-and-a-half hours to get out of a Burton car park.
A fellow Burtonian who moved to Worcestershire a few years ago goes cold turkey for the place. She misses the people, the aforementioned shopping, its compactness and down-to-earth attitude.
Like me she is feeling a tad weak and emotional just now. We were so proud to have Nigel on our side, you see. He helped to make Burton even more special. We’ll always be grateful to him for that.
As a Rams fan, I hope from the bottom of my heart that he can repeat his success at Derby.
And, as a Brewers fan, I hope new manager Roy McFarland – one of my favourite players from the 70s – can keep the lads on track for promotion. I have high hopes.
Long before this week’s machinations, both men appeared on posters in my young sons’ bedrooms. Each has a wall devoted to the Rams on one side, the Brewers on the other, a vibrant array of yellow, black and white.
“Don’t worry about Derby, mum,” said my 12-year-old. “Nigel is a brilliant manager. And with Roy at Burton (a former England central defender) we’ll have the best defence ever.”
Unfortunately there is no defence against being a football nut. That’s just something I have learned to live with.
Good luck Nigel and Roy!