It was the roar that thundered up to the heavens and reverberated around the hills and moors that surround the town that had the hairs on the back of our necks standing up on end, had us shaking our heads in utter astonishment, and at the final whistle produced another of those lump in throat moments. The previous Saturday at Stoke, Burnley had lost, made to look ordinary and bereft of ideas in the first ever Premier League game. It was quite chastening. We viewed the coming Man United game with apprehension. The giants of the game coming to give Burnley a lesson; how many would they score? None as it turned out. Robbie Blake scored a volleyed goal that would have graced the greatest grounds in the world. The roar lifted the roof off the stand nearly. The passion and support that rolled down to the pitch was a tidal wave of raw and tribal madness. A goal up, Brian Jensen then saved a Man United penalty and the game was set for end to end stuff until finally at the end an even bigger victory roar filled the skies, shook the ground, produced tears, and memories that will never fade.
