A fan's-eye view from Turf Moor, with Steve Cummings

SAT, OCT 2 1999

9am: Wake up with a thumping skull and a foul taste in my mouth. This is not because I have been repeatedly banging my head against the wall and smearing my gums with Swarfega, but because a mate persuaded me to "nip out for a quiet drink" last night. The evening was not quiet. The drink was not singular. Hence I spend much of the morning attempting to remember my name.

10am: Recuperation takes the form of five gallons of coffee and the mildly disturbing spectacle that is Saturday morning Kids TV. Children dressed as enormous pieces of fruit cavort around with Mr Blobby. I am happy to see Paul Gascoigne has found alternative employment.

Noon: Football Focus hoves comfortingly into view. Apparently if you look up; "banal" in the dictionary, it says "see Ray Stubbs." Stubbs, a man capable of out-blanding even Bob Wilson, fires - or rather timidly prods - questions at today's guests, Mark Bright and Craig Burley. Today's highlight comes when Stubbsie asks Craig Burley just how far Celtic can go in the UEFA Cup. Mark Bright ruptures several internal organs as he struggles to stifle a large guffaw of laughter.

1pm: And so to the match. Or rather so to the pre-match pint. This is a fortnightly ritual, wherein a group of us sit round offering our expert views on Burnley's progress. A typical exchange might be "Are we gonna win then?" "Yeah, should do." It may lack perceptive insight, but it's damned pithy. 3pm: The main action. Glen Little pretends to be a mere mortal for 30 minutes, before producing a couple of sublime moments of skill in the form of two killer crosses which utterly flummox Brentford, and help give us a 2-0 half time lead.

3.45pm: Things have improved under Kilby. Now, we even have half time comedy by dint of the price list for the catering. Nearly £2 for a pie. How we laughed.

4pm: Clearly fed up with our excellent start to the season and our dominance of this game, the Clarets gift Brentford a lifeline before persuading the referee to play a defence splitting pass, thus handing the visitors a share of the spoils.

5.45pm: "Half a loaf is better than no loaf at all" says Stan. I see his point, and having recovered from my earlier hangover decide that half a pint is better than no pint at all. "Fancy a quiet drink?" I ask my mate.

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.