Apparently Shanks hadn't but he'd certainly heard of the Longside, Burnley, a place that for years was swept clean by a number of Blackburn chairmen and managers, and yet I personally do feel something of an imposter writing about the Burnley terracing that disappeared twenty years ago.
I certainly wouldn't call myself a Longsider at all, in fact when I first became a Claret there was no Longside by name. I started watching with my dad and granddad on the Bee Hole end (even when it rained) and the section round the corner to our right was always known simply as the popular terrace.
It housed those who preferred a side view and for those who thought they were a little bit better than everyone else there was the opportunity to pay a few pennies more and stand at the front in the sectioned off area.
The time eventually came when I was allowed to go to games with my mates and there was only one place to be at the Turf for a teenager in the 1960s and that was the cricket field end. We used to get in there at least ninety minutes before kick off to ensure a good spot and the atmosphere was something else.
It's a long time ago now, but the memories remain strong and I'll maintain that on the night in 1967 when Napoli visited in the Fairs Cup we had an atmosphere and support that has never since come close to being matched.
There are claims today that ground improvements have taken away some of the atmosphere with the building of new stands and it was very much the case when, towards the end of 1967, our terracing was closed to allow the building of the ultra modern cricket field stand.
That terracing on the side had previously just been a passageway for most of us, to allow supporters to walk from one end to the other at half time if they chose to watch at the end Burnley were attacking in each half.
It all changed though and there had to be a new home for us. After a few games on the Bee Hole (where it still rained on you) we finally arrived around the half way line on the side that by now had been given this name of the Longside.
I might consider myself an imposter; I might think of myself as a cricket field ender, but the Longside was set to be my home for the next twenty years and more, a period when, overall, fortune didn't really favour Burnley Football Club.
I went through every emotion over those years. There was tension and relief, happiness and sadness, laughter and tears, and just about everything else as this great club of ours took us on a roller coaster ride.
The tension was never greater than 9th May 1987 and the Orient game. The relief was never more so than when George Courtney blew the final whistle that day. It is probably the story most will tell of their time on the Longside because of its sheer importance.
It was there in 1983 when a Newcastle fan threw a dart that found its bulls eye right in the middle of my dad's forehead and I was there on the night when a few thousand Celtic fans tried to kill me. It was a hostile place at times and it was this as much as anything else that finally moved me elsewhere, let's face it, when fighting breaks out during a home league game against Darlington, things have got pretty bad.
I never did get involved in any of the fighting and that probably accelerated my move into the seats as I lost any pace I had and couldn't get away just as quickly, although I suppose I was never an angel in there and I'm sure some of my behaviour at times would be unacceptable today.
Back in the 1970s we did have one favourite trick of winding up the police. It was enjoyable, they fell for it every time and it was known as the half time gap. Standing in the middle of the Longside it was always well populated and we would suddenly start pushing people to create a big gap whilst making a lot of commotion. The police would immediately, but wrongly, assume a fight had broken out and would come storming in only to find nothing.
Of course immediately they were in there the gap would close quickly and they would be trapped for some time – I think its success was based on how many coppers fell for it and how many could be snared. Why did they never catch on?
I think it all came to and end as the crowds dropped and it wasn’t quite so easy to organise any longer. In any case the police had become far too busy by this time trying to keep the rival fans apart until the fencing went up.
Having both sets of fans in there did create problems but it also helped give it its unique atmosphere – banter, fun, abuse, call it what you will but when two sets of fans are having a go at each other it will create the sort of atmosphere that is so often lacking at today’s football.
We don’t often get that banter now as we did and neither do we get those surges that probably did make the big terraces a little bit dangerous.
Do I have any big memories of the Longside? I suppose watching my mate being caught unawares by one of those surges and finding himself wrapped around a barrier was a good one. We all laughed, he spent the rest of the afternoon with his hands clutching a sensitive area.
And another mate opened a bag and pulled out two bottles of champagne as the final whistle blew to signal our return to the First Division in April 1973. He’d even brought the glasses too as we toasted Jimmy Adamson’s team. Can you imagine doing that today? A life ban I would assume would be the penalty.
Those are both personal memories but the biggest part of being on the Longside was being part of a community that could celebrate together on the special days and offer consolation on the bad days. It was one big family, you knew so many people in there and you all looked out for each other.
I’d been gone for a few years when it was decreed that the Longside should finally go and it is hard to believe it is now twenty years since that last game was played before the bulldozers moved in.
Over the next few months we were all able to gather our thoughts and recall our experiences as it disappeared. From my seat in the Bob Lord Stand, I saw those twenty plus years become rubble before the new stand replaced it.
I would look across and think of great moments and the laughs and the banter but there was always one memory that lingered long after all the others had gone.
It was personal, very personal, but on a day that was an important one for all of us. It came around 5:00 p.m. on 9th May 1987 as we beat Orient and retained our place in the Football League. Some danced, some sung, some climbed over the fencing to get onto the pitch and for once we all did our own thing.
I’d just about coped with the ninety minutes but when it sunk in what had happened, that we were safe, I just stood there and cried. I knew I would be back again come August for the new season and that was so, so important to me and thousands of others. Maybe I am a Longsider after all.
We are the Longside, Burnley.