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!