Rest, Protect, Run-Out

Burnley 2 v Sheffield United 1

The Championship

Monday 21 April 2025

SUFC 2024/25 Game #77

The Sensible Beer Bus was back from Burnley a bit later than expected. We'd had to stop off at a Rymans on the way back. And we delivered three Whiteboards to Bramall Lane for Chris Wilder’s office.

Whiteboard one. To list the players who are running on fumes, carrying niggles, got too many miles on the GPS. With a view to them being fully rested for the Playoffs. I'm putting Souza top of that board.

Whiteboard two. To list the players who are absolutely essential to the side. Particularly where we are light on understudies. With a view to protecting them from a fucking stupid injury in a dead rubber. I'm putting Cooper top of that board.

Whiteboard three. To list the players who have not been used much lately. And who could do with some minutes in their legs to make sure they are ready if needed. I'm putting Brooks top of that board.

A plan is what I'm saying, a plan. We also bought some more comestibles from Rymans.

Some coloured pens to help identify and prioritise players on those boards for Stoke away.

Some of them suction darts to just fire at the boards to choose players for Stoke away - because … funny.

Good goal from Cannon. Yet more right back experience for Hamza. Playoffs. Let's fucking get at it.

I'm afraid there continues to be a bit of friction between the non-drinkers at the front of the Sensible Beer Bus, and the, quite frankly, normal fans at the back.

The general moan is that the beer stops are too long, and that the remain thirsty’s are having to twiddle their thumbs too long in towns various. It's not that long ago that the GangMaster had to BoozeSplain that this is a superbly run enterprise, catering for a range of fans and their requirements, and the basic strategy would remain - we're stopping for a decent drink. And, other coaches are available…

Nearing the announced stop, I followed Jessop up the aisle, it was five past twelve. As I neared the exit, The GangMaster sang out the refrain;

“Everybody back on by three thirty.”

One of The Civilians did the Math.

“We've got to hang around for three an’ half hours. It's too long. Too long.”

I mean, they are all cuddly Blades, and they all have to find their own rhythm. But, use a different end of the telescope.

“It's not fucking long enough…

Anyway, all good. But, on the way back, after we'd been to Rymans, I decided to go up front and lob a fucking hand grenade in.

“Hey. GangMaster. I've been sent up here by them at the back. They want me to clarify some important points about the Playoffs.”

*We're guaranteed to finish third, yeah? So, we'll be away on Thursday eighth May, yeah?”

“You do know that Thursday is eighty years since VE Day, don't you.”

I've deliberately stopped four rows short of the GangMaster, in the middle of the Temperance Travellers. So, I'm having to shout a bit. And I've now got their FULL attention.

“Yeah, VE Day, eighty years … they've sent me from the back to remind you … Starmer says the Pubs can stay open ‘til one in the morning … so we'll be expecting some of that on the way back …”

Booooom. Daggers looks. The narrator turns on his heels, and returns to his trenches, avoiding eye contact.

Today, the three an’ half hour stop centred around;

Hogs Head Brew House

1 Stanley St W, Sowerby Bridge HX6 2AH

The GangMaster told me he'd phoned ‘em up in the week. To check their opening times, given it was Easter Monday. And to tell them he was bringing a coach. And a load would be piling off into the Bar. While another load would be sat somewhere in a fucking layby lamenting their lot.

So, I was a little surprised to be confronted by a Security Guy on the door, at ten past twelve. I was even more surprised, as we neared the half three hour of coach reconciliation, to see a good few other drinkers piling in. Turned out to be a funeral.

I was told that the beers had been brewed in the cellar. But this week, they'd moved all the Brewing kit out of the cellar, and across the road, to a new building they've got. Must have been some operation that.

Five of their own on Cask, three guests. Four pukka Keg, including one of their own.

Hogs Head Brew House, Hoppy Valley, Pale Ale on Cask at 4.3%

Hogs Head Brew House, Shaken Not Stirred, Hazy (yeah, but was that really deliberate?) Pale Ale on Cask at 4.5%

Divided opinion that one. Some CBF declared it “Off”. Some declared it “different, but I really like it”. There was a general view of - “a bit medicinal”. I was in one of them fucking moods that by the time I got to the bottom of it - “enjoyed that in the end”.

Hogs Head Brew House, White Hog, Pale Ale on Cask at 4%

Keen readers may already have spotted that Hogs Head had a fair few Pales on the bar.

I expect many readers will have already heard about the Burnley Fans pitch invasion. And a bit of Bollocks with the Blades players trying to reach the tunnel.

As I watched that unfold from the away end, I realised my gaze was being drawn, not to the whole scene, but to one particular nugget of movement.

Now. I ain't a Grass. So I won't name names. I saw one Burnley fan making constant grabs at the outstretched arm of a United player. He was a-dodging an’ a-weaving. And the Brunleaer kept a-grabbing. The United player checked around him, looking for space. And then he tossed something out of his previously outstretched hand. The hand which the fan had been targeting. The tossed object flew about fifteen yards, hit the grass and rolled on a bit right in front of Plod who were backs to the Away End. And the Fan stopped his attempts on the player, and ran to retrieve the object.

It was his fucking phone. He must have been in your facing the United player, who must have grabbed the phone, wriggled a bit, and given it the old - here, fetch that you twat…

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