MY DAD often relates a tale of a man who lived on his road when he was young, writes Simon Smith.

As my Grandad, Thomas, guided his sons home after a defeat the man would always be stood on his own doorstep joyfully doing that bent-kneed, pigeon-toed, up and down shimmy some men do when they are excited.

“How’ve they got on, Tom?” he would ask loudly even though Grandstand had already told him Rovers had lost.

Now we all get a bit of stick from others when Rovers fail but what irked my Grandad was that this man claimed to be a Rovers fan and living in the cul-de-sac that is Rossall Terrace there was no way to avoid him.

I was reminded of this when so many apparent Rovers fans seemed overjoyed that they could finally vent spleen on Saturday after so long.

A dire performance ended the massive unbeaten run and results elsewhere rubbed salt into the wound, but to hear some people talk you’d think it was the end of hope.

We have all had to come to terms with the fact that our support isn’t raucous like Leeds’, for instance, or blindly loyal in the face of continued failure like Newcastle or West Ham, but nor are we excessively violent when we lose or prone to attacking manager’s wives.

Saturday was frustrating for all. Let’s call it for what it is - a blip - and get behind the team.

As for my Grandad, after the man had caught him six times in an eight game winless streak he wasn’t altogether surprised on returning from an away trip to Turf Moor to see the man’s front door was firmly closed and there was no sight of him.

My Grandad strode down the path, rapped on the door and, when the man finally appeared, barked “Just thought I’d let you know; we won four flippin’ one, Harry.”

Can you tell I don’t want to dwell on last week?

Enjoy the game on Saturday. Let’s hope we can knock on a few doors.