SOME folk will tell you that summer is "a good thing." They will talk in glowing terms of warmer weather, the sound of leather on willow and the prospect of getting away from it all for a couple of weeks.
Don't believe a word of it. At best these people are self-deluding idiots. At worst they are evil liars. The terrible truth is that if you are a football fan, the period between mid May and mid August is a barren arid wasteland.
You see, following the fortunes of the Clarets is not just an interest - it's a way of life. And when your every waking moment over the past nine months has been spent worrying about every aspect of Burnley Football Club, then those three blank months carry with them a certain emptiness.
Saturdays, for example, just aren't the same. Between August and May, I will wake up on a matchday and spend the best part of the morning lying in bed wondering whether Stan will employ a flat back four or go with a sweeper.
However, during the close season I will wake up on a Saturday morning and spend the best part of all day lying in bed wondering what I am going to do until next season kicks off. You probably think this makes me shallow and one dimensional. You're right. This summer will be particularly testing. In the absence of a World Cup or European Championships to tide me over until early August, I will be climbing the walls.
I shall probably become a recluse. Nobody, not friends, not family, will see me this summer. They will probably find me in early August slouched on the sofa, dribbling down my replica top, mumbling incoherently as the television plays last season's highlights video - for the 239th time that summer.
Finally, it would be remiss of me to close this week's column without mentioning Rovers' wonderful and highly comical relegation. Anyone who doubted what I said last week about football being built on parochialism should have been in and around Burnley's pubs and clubs last Wednesday.
We lapped up every second of Sky's coverage. Every crying fan. Every dejected soul. One division separates us. There can be no bigger carrot for success next term than the prospect of a long overdue derby the season after next. Come on you Clarets! Enjoy the summer. See you next season.
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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