For 13 years now Alan Long and I have been a double act out on the pitch at Sincil Bank, and long may it continue. Now you all know Alan, the ‘lets make some noise for the boys’ guy. He’s been our Master of Ceremonies now for one year longer than I’ve been donning the fur, and between us we have quarter of a century of volunteered years dedicated to the club. I’m extremely proud of the fact we have, and Alan is very much like me in that what he does, he does for the love of Lincoln City Football Club.
Before I continue I’d like to point out around the club there are so many people who do so much for no reward. I’m not suggesting the club are taking advantage in any way, far from it. Football clubs like Lincoln City need that goodwill because as a viable business they’d struggle. The product they sell is often overpriced (like all League Two football) and in order to maintain any sense of financial stability they need some people willing to put hours in for free. Even the guys who are paid to work at the club are often there well into the night.
Anyhow back to Alan. The first time I met Alan he was sat across a big desk in what is now the Sponsors Lounge, alongside a guy called Jerry Lonsdale. It was my interview as for the job as Poacher. The club were introducing a mascot courtesy of John Beck, who had tried to advance the clubs reputation in the city. John Beck was a real mixed bag; some of his ideas for the club were fantastic. The ‘Team Lincoln’ ethos in particular struck a chord However I think his interpretation of the word ‘expenses’ was a bit off, and how he heard ‘yes’ when he asked John Reames for a few days off after a dire 1-1 draw with Cambridge is anyones guess. However on the pitch we got results, but then the ball spent more time in the air than it did in the kit bag from Sunday to Friday. Anyway Mr Beck decided he wanted a mascot at the club, and the forward thinking commercial team of Jerry Lonsdale and his then assistant Kerry France actioned that. Alan had been doing his job for around a year and he was invited in on the interview.
Over the years Alan and I have had some cracking times on the pitch. The 2003 Play off Final sticks firmly in my mind, and without ruining a future blog all I’ll say is both Alan and I had a ball doing our Sincil Bank routine on the pitch in front of 20,000 odd people.
I also recall me obtaining free tickets for an England under 21 game and taking Alan along as a helper as well. In the early days where I went normally Alan would accompany me but as the years have worn on it’s become tougher and tougher. I recall us going to England v Germany at Valley Parade back when Bradford were a top flight side. I stripped off in the changing area and went out onto the pitch with Alan watching on (not watching me change, he’s a happily married man). That night me and around fifteen other mascots stood alongside the teams for the national anthem. There is something extremely moving about being stood like that for a national anthem, and I’ll never forget that experience.
The actual event was over quickly and we went back up to the changing room. As usual I was ‘quite warm’ and so stripped down to the old Calvin Klein apple catchers (no boxers when I used to do Poacher, I preferred some security), when who should walk in but Benito Carbone, heading up to thank us for our efforts. Without thinking I shook his hand and said pleased to meet you, clad in nothing but my white, sweat laden CK’s. I think he left England shortly after that and hasn’t been seen since. These were actually the same pair that troubled my vision at Shrewsbury from an earlier blog. I still have them but now I prefer a much more expansive under garment when performing.
Wow. Never thought I’d discuss my underwear choice on the internet.
I think without Alan I’d have been tempted to hang up the fur years ago. The stories I’m telling on here are all amusing (hopefully), but happen once in a blue moon. Trying to rouse 1,750 for an LDV Vans Trophy game with Morecambe is as thankless as trying to get layabout students to pay their own way without them throwing a fire extinguisher from a roof. However with Alan on the pitch I have someone I can actually bounce off at any point, and on those quieter days I can try and put him off his job – my favourite game.
You’ll all be familiar with Alan going around the ground and firing up the fans, but I always do the very best I can to put him off. As he heads across to the away fans I’ll always whisper something to him about the away team, and desperately try and rattle him before he welcomes them, and occasionally I think it has worked.
The obvious targets are Grimsby or our other local rivals. He isn’t surprised now when he leans towards my suit and hears ‘Codhead scum’ or ‘town full of doleys’ or even ‘small town in Wales’ (Hereford and Shrewsbury I’m talking to you). However perhaps the one game that really sticks in my mind is Rotherham from a few years ago.. Alan went along the front of their fans and he said something like ‘are we going to say hello to the away fans Poacher’, at which point I whispered in his ear ‘No, they’re probably all too smacked up to hear us’. As he began his chuckle I launched into the usual unsubstantiated tirade I reserve solely for that matchday moment: ‘I bet that teenage girl at the front is pregnant anyway’, (cue Alan chuckles), ‘hey there’s a guy up there not wearing a tracksuit, he must be the guy in Rotherham who actually has a job’, and other slurs that may be too offensive for even my blog. Alan struggled on chuckling as he went, but as soon as we’d moved away from the fans he came over still laughing to himself. I thought that was it until I turned up for Monday morning at work at Swinton branch of Jacksons. Swinton is close to Rotherham and one of their guys had come to the front of the Millers fans to say hi – and heard my little tirade! I left Jacksons not long after!!
Even to this day I do the same thing, although the perfect pro Alan no longer lets it bother him. In fact against Bury as he went over to their fans I said ‘Here they are, Manchester United adopted little brother, just like an African Angelina Jolie child’. I’m not sure he even heard me.
Another thing Alan likes to do is mention something personal about me on the pitch. After a fairly raucous night on the town recently I ended up in Chez Radwans at 3am wearing my cousins high heeled shoes (strange fella my cousin) and toppling all over the place. Unbeknown to me one of our stewards had also spotted this. Next day I’m on the pitch (it was during Chris Suttons reign so let’s just say we lost) and Alan calls me over. ‘Poacher, is it true you were spotted in town last night wearing Mrs Poachers high heels?’ To people in the stand it meant nothing, but under the suit I went as red as my outer fur.
So that’s Alan Long. On matchday he is the first person I bump into, I’ll always search him out and chew over the last game or upcoming fixture for a few minutes, and out on the pitch we bounce off each other now like all the best comedy duos, Hale and Pace, Mitchell and Webb and those two smug looking Geordies who do the jungle. Thing is we do it all for the love of the Imps.
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