A boy walks into the kitchen with a football under his arm, and opens the fridge.. His thirsty mate is waiting for him at the table..
"Got any lemonade?"
"No,, have this ((takes out a bottle of milk))
"Milk? Eurgh!".
"But it's what Ian Rush drinks.".
"Ian Rush?"
"Yeah,, and he says if you don't drink enough milk,, when you grow up, you'll only be good enough to play for Accrington Stanley.".
"Accrington Stanley? Who are they?"
"Exactly.".
Never has a television advert with a seemingly mocking message done such a brilliant PR job for a product.
No, not for milk—which the Milk Marketing Board was trying to flog with that ad—but for Accrington Stanley. The football club was supposedly the butt of the joke, a laughing stock. Yet, thanks to that exposure—the advert aired throughout the 1980s—the club itself became a brand. It embedded itself deep in the British public consciousness, far more than many large, successful clubs.
As of last Saturday, Accrington Stanley no longer needs ad men or PR spin. They’ve done all the publicity work themselves. On 15 April 2006, they wrote—or rather, rewrote—their own history. A narrow 1-0 away win at Woking in the semi-professional Football Conference realised what Accrington had been waiting no less than 44 years for: a return to the professional fourth tier.
Anyone who happened to stumble upon the promotion celebrations on the pitch after the win would have innocently assumed the World Cup had arrived two months early. 48 hours later, during the Easter fixtures, the ecstasy was brought back home. Accrington hosted Scarborough, won 1-0, and the 3,301 fans in the local stadium spilt out into an entire town waiting for them with open arms—proud, decked out in colours, and jubilant. But the truth is, Accrington Stanley earned their "ultimate loser" tag—the one Welsh and Liverpool star Ian Rush slapped on them in that milky advert—fair and square, or rather, through a sheer lack of form. The club was founded in 1921 in the town of Accrington, Lancashire, in North West England (population 70,000 in the wider borough, bordering Burnley and Blackburn, and not too far from Liverpool and Manchester).
And why "Stanley"? Even within the town, opinions are divided. Some claim the club's surname was tacked on because its original founders (back in 1888) lived on Stanley Street, while others are convinced the reason is the local—the Stanley Arms pub, where the founding fathers regularly sank pints to the team's health. But on one thing, there is no debate: in 1962, Accrington Stanley faced utter ruin. In truth, Accrington could never keep pace with their wealthy neighbours, Blackburn, Burnley, and Preston. After the Second World War, they battled the depths of relegation almost every season. 1953 was a particularly grim year: rock bottom of the lowest professional league, which hardly raised an eyebrow considering that just months earlier, the club's full-back was murdered by a crazed, cuckolded husband. But it wasn't passion that sealed the club's death warrant; it was money. Debts of £63,000 (oh, how laughable that sum sounds today) to the Inland Revenue, National Insurance, Preston, and Blackburn hung like a millstone around the club's neck. Even before the season ended, Accrington notified the Fourth Division committee of their bankruptcy. They resigned their league status, and after a failed attempt to rebuild in the amateur leagues, they folded and shut down entirely.
Accrington Stanley thus went down in history as the first professional club in England to hand back their membership card and keys to the Football League, giving up the ghost. And right here, naturally, after the collapse, the comeback began. The tale of the phoenix rising from the ashes—this time from rags to riches—spans two generations. Accrington was reformed in 1968 by sane, local businessmen and spent many obscure years in the lower amateur leagues. The turning point came a mere 11 years ago. In 1995, Eric Whalley, a local businessman who had played for the club's reserves during its dying days, bought Accrington Stanley Football Club for £80,000 (another figure that provides some comic relief). Whalley's dreams of a swift return to former glory initially proved to be little more than a pipe dream. By 1999, Accrington had plummeted to the UniBond League—essentially the eighth tier of English football, four steps away from the promised land. But then two things happened: Whalley appointed John Coleman as manager, and an English scout spotted striker Brett Ormerod amongst the blades of grass at the Interlink Express Stadium, Accrington's home. Coleman is the man behind the sporting success. In his seven highly fruitful years at the club, he guided Stanley to where they are now. Ormerod, meanwhile, was responsible for the cash flow. Blackpool bought him for a mere £50,000, but with a sell-on clause granting Stanley a hefty chunk of any future transfer. In 2001, Southampton, then in the Premier League, paid £1.75 million for Ormerod (who, incidentally, now plays for Championship side Preston and has just reached the play-offs for Premier League promotion with them). This was the positive financial turning point in Accrington's twisting plot; they cashed in their chips and ran to tell the league.
Within three seasons, they leapt to the Conference, and after another three, they completed the full circle this week. "Just seven years ago, we dropped into the UniBond League, whilst Wimbledon were in the Premier League. Next season, we might be playing each other. That puts the achievement into perspective, but it’s still unbelievable," says manager Coleman. Owner Whalley brings us back down to earth, and back to that advert, which he reckons "was brilliant for us. Even when we became a joke, it kept our name alive all over the world and ensured Accrington Stanley would forever remain a truly unique name."
So what’s left? Perhaps to raise a glass (of milk?) to the one place on the planet where they will never cry over spilt milk. Quite the opposite.