Accrington Stanley's visit to Lancaster City on Tuesday night may have just been another league game to most of the supporters who made their way to Giant Axe.
It's unlikely that the events of 40 years ago made much of a difference to the fans, who were anxious to see the Dolly Blues stay in touch with the Unibond League leaders.
But it was 40 years ago this week that league football in the small town of Accrington finally withered away and died.
An Accrington club was a founder of the football league in 1888 (pedant's note - this was not Accrington Stanley, but another outfit representing the mill town) but the reformed Stanley club spent most of its existence traversing the lower divisions, though it did host one of the country's first televised match, a north versus south match beneath the Peel Park floodlights, quite a rarity in the days when Sky was a colour and the only Morecambe with any aspiration of being on the box was Eric.
Of course, nowadays the TV cameras will turn up anywhere.
It's tempting to see this as an example of the insatiable appetite for live matches of a certain kind of football fan.
The truth is much duller.
Sports channels can't survive on repeats and Australian dingo wrestling alone.
That means that broadcasters have to dig deep and stumps up some cash for the Morecambe's of this world.
However, this approach is proving surprisingly popular.
One associate of mine, who had shown no previous great interest in football but who likes fishing and hunting, was quick to sing the praises of the BBC's early FA Cup coverage.
'It's great' he said 'they're treating little clubs like premier league teams!' Which just goes to show that the couch potato market is finite, but there are plenty of people out there who want to see the Coronation Street side of the game as well as the glossy trash at the top end of the market.
ACCRINGTON Stanley's visit to Lancaster City on Tuesday night may have just been another league game to most of the supporters who made their way to Giant Axe.
It's unlikely that the events of 40 years ago made much of a difference to the fans, who were anxious to see the Dolly Blues stay in touch with the Unibond League leaders.
But it was 40 years ago this week that league football in the small town of Accrington finally withered away and died.
An Accrington club was a founder of the football league in 1888 (pedant's note - this was not Accrington Stanley, but another outfit representing the mill town) but the reformed Stanley club spent most of its existence traversing the lower divisions, though it did host one of the country's first televised match, a north versus south match beneath the Peel Park floodlights, quite a rarity in the days when Sky was a colour and the only Morecambe with any aspiration of being on the box was Eric.
Of course, nowadays the TV cameras will turn up anywhere.
It's tempting to see this as an example of the insatiable appetite for live matches of a certain kind of football fan.
The truth is much duller.
Sports channels can't survive on repeats and Australian dingo wrestling alone.
That means that broadcasters have to dig deep and stumps up some cash for the Morecambe's of this world.
However, this approach is proving surprisingly popular.
One associate of mine, who had shown no previous great interest in football but who likes fishing and hunting, was quick to sing the praises of the BBC's early FA Cup coverage.
'It's great' he said 'they're treating little clubs like premier league teams!' Which just goes to show that the couch potato market is finite, but there are plenty of people out there who want to see the Coronation Street side of the game as well as the glossy trash at the top end of the market.
Speaking of Footballer's Wives, I only managed to sit through one episode of this abominable excuse for a television programme.
The scriptwriters obviously knew nothing about football ('I've just been on the phone to the gaffer and he has agreed to transfer me to the first team' was a typical line) and it was not fit to lace the boots of Sky's Dream Team.
If it had been Chairman's Wives, recent news form the northeast suggests it might have been a good deal more watchable.
The missus of Darlington chairman, former safebreaker George Reynolds, took it upon herself to slate the players and question their commitment.
Not surprisingly the Quakers players walked out.
Meanwhile, on the South Coast, the Portsmouth chairman begins complaining because he can't stop the player's wages.
'Surely' he says 'I can stop paying them if I feel like it?'
Er, no.
If you could do that, then half the employers in Britain would do it on a regular basis.
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