What he did do was assure the board and the fans that he would not be demanding big money for big money signings. ‘Football meets reality’ he said. He was the custodian of the club and would not want to put it in jeopardy. There was alignment between him and the directors and he would not spend above the club’s means.

     The FA Youth Cup-tie between Burnley and Man United served to show there is some superb talent at Under-18 level. Before I lost the internet stream at half-time I was quite blown away by their pace and passing. They were unlucky to lose and only two superb goals from United was the difference with Burnley dominating for long spells with some blistering football and their own top class efforts on goal.

     With Marney back, Brian Stock was once more back on the bench. On his day Stock is up there with the truly gifted passers of the ball, short and neat or long and visionary out to the wings. He was always impressive when he came with Doncaster. By all accounts he was a bit of a hell raiser when he was a young lad revealing that he was always getting into scrapes, made headlines in the press for nightclub altercations,  was banned from driving and on occasions even came into training still the worse for wear with drink. He was given a last chance ultimatum at Bournemouth by Sean Driscoll; someone looked after his money and he was put in supervised digs. He went out once a week playing bingo with his landlord and heeded the warnings. He lived like a monk, he says, for months and with the help of a lot of people rescued his career. 

     And so from the capital of tat came Blackpool; minus Ricardo Fuller of course because he was one of five (yes five) Blackpool players red-carded in the space of just a few days.  Manager Ince too, had been in trouble for an altercation. It would have been nice if they’d managed to beat QPR in their previous game.  Despite QPR’s win we were still second.

     For the Blackpool game I dug out my Santa hat. The club shop had them on sale years ago. It wasn’t quite an antique, but almost. By now the Thomas household was well into the Christmas spirit, cream sherry and sloe gin in particular. Cards filled the mantelpiece and window ledges. E-cards clogged the computer, the best of them a rendition of We Wish You a Merry Christmas accompanied by an accomplished fartist. It could well be the increased intake of sherry and sloe gin but Mrs T had been suffering from strange tummy rumblings of late. One night it was so bad I thought it was the central heating on the blink. The doc was very nice. We are lucky to have a surgery within walking distance where you can get an appointment within 24 hours. Mrs T returned all smiles. Nothing to worry about, said the lady doctor, you probably just need Gaviscon. Mrs T who knows her football replied we were OK we already had Duff and Shackell and didn’t need any useless Frenchmen. Nevertheless the Doc said she recommended Lansoprozole for a couple of weeks. I was over the moon as I didn’t know the NHS could send you on a free holiday but then Mrs T explained that it wasn’t somewhere in Tenerife it was only pills. 

     Paul Ince had Burnley sussed before Blackpool arrived. He announced Burnley were just a long-ball team who played it up to Vokes and Ings. The first 20 minutes of the game must therefore have come as a bit of a shock. Burnley were out of the blocks, not quite like Usain Bolt, but impressively nevertheless with smooth football, ball to feet, patterns, smart moves, and determination. Ince must have been even more gobsmacked at the style and technique of the first goal. It was the well-rehearsed corner routine where someone runs over the ball played diagonally across the back of the area, and someone comes steaming in and smacks it home. This time it was Duff who let the ball run through his legs so that Ings could score from 12 yards or so.

    Unfortunately Blackpool came back. Burnley then went off the boil, lost concentration and first and second balls eluded them. Ince Junior began to cause mayhem down the right going past Mee as if he wasn’t there. A series of corners ended in the inevitable, a Blackpool equaliser from the ensuing header. Immediately prior to it there had been all the usual argy bargy you associate now before a corner is taken, pushing, shoving, holding, wrestling, shirt pulling so that in the blink of an eye suddenly a Burnley player was bundled into the back of the net flat on his back. Free kick: seemingly not as players seem able to do what they like to each other until the moment the corner ball is kicked and is in play, a sort of Come Dancing with boots on.

     At halftime 1-1 and it had been Blackpool dominant and us lot thinking this looked like another desperately dodgy afternoon. But no: just minutes into the new half Arfield scored a peach of goal curling the ball into the far corner of the net from the side of the area. We sat directly behind it; surely it was going beyond the goal we thought, but no it curled and dipped and in it went. What a start to the half and the right tonic for everyone, team, and fans.

     From that moment on Burnley clicked into gear. The crowd’s support had been terrific all first-half. Now it was even better, they were up for it, almost on a par with Last Night of the Proms. Leicester had beaten QPR in the lunchtime game and all of us knew that a win would take us back to the top above the pair of them. Heaton made two great saves but so did Gilkes from Ings in the first half when his header looked certain to go into the bottom corner. Ings could have had four on another day. Another header went agonisingly inches wide when he was unmarked on the 6-yard line. Arfield hit the crossbar. And then right at the death when Marney, back to his best, played him the perfect little pass and he had only the ‘keeper to beat, he took a moment extra to control the ball giving time for the block and the ball went over. What could have been a convincing win by the end remained a tense 2-1, but within seconds of that last chance, the ref blew for full time.

     On Christmas Day, 2013, they were not just top of the heap but an impressive 10 points clear of seventh spot. We’ve kept on saying it; that this is beyond all expectations. We’ve kept on saying it ad infinitum; a small squad, no money, small crowds, little old Burnley.  Statistics show that the side that is top on Christmas Day more often than not goes up automatically. But the last time this happened at Turf Moor, Burnley top on Christmas Day, was way back in Stan’s day when in 2001 Burnley were four points clear at the top after 25 games. Wolves were second.  Alas that season Burnley fell away and even missed out on the play-offs, sliding down to 7^th and missing out on goal difference. It’s remembering things like that, that keep Burnley feet on the ground, that generate that disbelieving glass half-empty feeling that this is just too good to be true. ‘Wait till Christmas before we raise our hopes,’ we said. The folk behind us modified this. ‘Wait till Easter.’ 

    But they won. They went top again. They’d be top on Christmas Day. The stairs and exits afterwards were filled with beaming faces, a few Santa suits and white beards.  Maybe by the season’s end we’ll all have white hair, or grey at the very least. All that and the buzz of good cheer and best wishes for a Merry Christmas to one and all.