It was strange to travel 180 miles to stand outside Blackpool FC's Bloomfield Road and not buy a ticket
A lifelong Seasiders fan has shared his memories of being part of the Tangerine Army at Bloomfield Road and described what it was really like being part of the iconic Homecoming in 2019.
Born in Blackpool in 1958, Tangerines fan, Richard Watt has been reflecting on what it has been like to follow Blackpool FC for almost 60 years.
He has shared his memories seven years on from the moment thousands of fans returned to Bloomfield Road in unity, marking the end of a four year fan boycott of Bloomfield Road.
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The ‘Homecoming’ fixture represented far more than a result on the pitch. It signalled the conclusion of the “Not A Penny More” (NAPM) campaign, a mass boycott launched by supporters between 2015 and 2019 in protest at the ownership of the Oyston family.
Fans’ key grievances included the failure to reinvest around £90 million in Premier League parachute payments into the squad or infrastructure, legal action taken against supporters for alleged libel over online comments, and widely-reported personal insults directed at fans.
Under the banner of “Not A Penny More”, supporters refused to attend home matches in a bid to starve the regime of revenue. While backing the team loyally away from home, they stayed away from Bloomfield Road in significant numbers.
This Saturday will see the club and fans celebrate the seven year homecoming anniversary during the Seasiders home clash with Burton Albion FC.
Discounted ticket prices are sure to see the stands packed out once more.
Sharing his experience, Richard Watt explains why Blackpool FC has always had his heart.
I lived in Stafford Avenue, Poulton-le-Fylde and my father worked at Norcross for the DHSS. He was in the War Pensions department. After much pestering, aged nine, my mum and dad agreed I could go to see my first football match at Bloomfield Road.
I went with a school pal and his father who was a policeman. The game was against Chelsea, we lost two-nil, Jimmy Armfield was on the pitch in a number 2 shirt. ‘The Pool’ sat firmly at the bottom of Division One with a woeful 16 points out of 32 games played, it was March 1967 and cold. This experience left its mark on me, fans had wooden football rattles in those days and puffed on cigarettes, now everyone holds an iPhone in the air, sings along with the drummer and vapes outside the ground.
My parents decided to move after dad retired, we then lived near Swindon. As a teenager, I’d visit the County Ground to watch the Robins from time to time. They weren’t as good as Blackpool, but they had a decent player, Don Rogers. Back in the 1970s, I’d always bought a copy of the Football Pink as I could keep abreast of how Blackpool were doing. Ironically, the current Swindon gaffer is Ian Holloway, I expect that rings a bell for Blackpool fans, whether or not you liked him as our manager.
In the 80s, I found myself studying in Manchester and this enabled me to get back into watching Blackpool from time to time. Only problem was that I had joined the Territorial Army’s 4 th Battalion Parachute Regiment, which meant that I had to be on parade every other weekend and missed games.
In the next decade, Owen Oyston found himself in jail and passed club responsibilities to his son Karl. I moved to London to work in the national press and the only chance to see Blackpool live, was if they played a match down South. Using my contacts, I managed to blag a press pass for the Championship play-off at Wembley against Cardiff City, so that was a bonus.
Since then, before the memorable ‘Blackpool are Back’ Homecoming game against Southend in 2019, I joined in with the loyal Pool fans who picketed the home games and only attended the away games.
Not a Penny More Campaign was in full swing and I also signed up with the Blackpool Supporters Trust. It’s strange to travel 180 miles one way, to stand outside Bloomfield Road stadium and not buy a ticket. Then retire to a Blackpool bed and breakfast and drive another 180 miles home the next day. Well, at least I have two ‘Oyston Out’ scarves in my cupboard to remind me of those trips.
Seven years ago, the pre-match celebration march got underway from the comedy carpet to Bloomfield Road. What a day, sunny and a fine mist blowing in from the sea. Thousands marched in tangerine and white, I’ve never seen the stadium so full of flags and fans. I sneaked in cameras to take pictures of this incredible day. Hundreds of balloons, a few flares went off and the singing was deafening.
In the north, a small group of Southend Shrimpers fans watched in bemused amazement.
The fact remains, it did not really matter that Southend scored first, we equalised and then they scored again. Nobody cared, we were back, rocking the place. In the 97th minute, Feeney and Henneghan got into their box and during the scuffle, an own goal bought it level pegging.
The tangerine crowd went mad and the pitch was invaded, including by me who took pictures (see the boys being mobbed by jubilant fans from the south stand.)
So good luck this Saturday against Burton Albion, I wish I could be with you, but I’m just out of hospital recovering, extremely well, from bowel cancer - so I’ll watch it on the telly with a beer.
UP THE MIGHTY POOL.