FIR PARK CHIEF IS SET FOR AN EPIC RETURN TO HAMPDEN
As a boy, he stood on the terraces back in 1991 as his team triumphed in one of the great cup finals. Now, Alan Burrows’ journey has come full circle as the Motherwell supremo prepares for an epic return to Hampden
WHEN the teams emerge from the Hampden tunnel, he will glance over nostalgically to the spot where he stood that day in 1991 and reflect on the journey travelled.
‘From the Terracing to the Boardroom’ might sound like some dismal business self-help book but, were it not for his self-effacing manner, it would be the natural title to Alan Burrows’ life story.
Still only 35 years old, the remarkable yarn of how a supporter progressed from being a voluntary contributor on a fans’ website to last month being retitled as chief executive of his club is an inspiring one.
Its genesis just happens to be May 18, 1991, the day Motherwell won their second Scottish Cup, defeating Dundee United 4-3 in what is widely regarded as the greatest final of them all in the old tournament.
‘It was my first real memory of football,’ Burrows told Sportsmail. ‘I remember all the colour, noise, smells and the emotion of the supporters.
‘I remember sitting on the old crash barriers behind the goal and this older gentleman kissed me on the head when we won. It was my first real experience of male bonding at the football. Strange but funny at the same time.
‘I was so taken with how gripped people were by it all. I was hooked.’
He had a season ticket two years later, obsessing over all matters claret and amber through his teenage years and early adulthood until taking what was a life-changing trip to Austria in the summer of 2007 when incoming boss Mark McGhee was overseeing a training camp in the remote village of Obertauern.
Burrows shoots down the suggestion it was a boys’ holiday.
‘It was even sadder,’ he smiled. ‘There were no mates. Just me. It was like a scene from
The Sound of Music going through the Alps.
‘At that time, I ran a fans’ forum. I was trying to fill a little void as it had been a very difficult campaign under Maurice (Malpas).
‘Mark came in and was really positive. That inspired me to expose that to a wider audience. I’d no ties so I decided to use my summer holidays doing some stuff for the forum to try and lift the spirits.
‘We actually built a really solid online community of Motherwell fans. Couples have even met and been married through it.’
He remembers the moment of acceptance well.
‘I took a picture of Paul Quinn, Steven McGarry and Marc Fitzpatrick sitting in a glacier stream,’ he recalled.
‘They grabbed me, stripped me naked, launched me in the water and held me head-down. It was freezing but, for me, that was the moment I was accepted as part of the group.’
Word had filtered back to Stewart Robertson, then the club’s managing director, of Burrows’ work. He was just the man to bolster the club’s official online presence. A job offer was made over the phone.
‘I could have flown home without a plane,’ Burrows recalled. ‘I was working in the finance department of North Lanarkshire Council.
‘It wasn’t anything particularly exciting but it was really secure. But this was Motherwell. Even though I had to take a pay cut, there was no decision to be made.’
In an environment where multi-tasking is simply a way of life, Burrows recognised he could make an impact beyond his remit.
He took a flamethrower to the club’s notoriously restrictive media relations policy and won award after award for getting a positive message into the public domain.
He said: ‘I’d never subscribed to the idea that the media should be your enemy. Quite the opposite.’
The arrival of Leeann Dempster as chief executive in 2008 proved to be something of a meeting of minds. ‘We became good friends as well as colleagues,’ said Burrows.
‘She would use me as a sounding board. Because of that, I gained a greater understanding of not just the football operation but the whole business.
‘I was present at board meetings and became involved in the club’s strategy and business plan. I became familiar with how the agency side of things and player contracts worked.’
Dempster’s burgeoning reputation saw her leave for Hibernian in 2014. Asked at the time if he would consider following her, Burrows declined. Answering the supplementary question about stepping up to become general manager was not as easy.
‘I took my time over it,’ he said. ‘I was never not going to take it but I tried to talk myself out of it because it was starting the stop watch on me leaving the club. There are anomalies but most executives have a lifespan.
‘I was also concerned about the perception. That people still thought I was the wee fan who sat over in D126 in the East Stand. Were they thinking: “How’s he running the club?”
‘You always have doubts. But I knew if I didn’t do it I’d regret it.’
Had he known what immediately lay ahead, he might well have opted out. Two weeks after taking the role, chairman John Boyle announced he was selling up. The club would run out of money in six months.
Queens Park Rangers’ Italian owners looked closely but walked away. The same applied to an Argentinian consortium.
‘Myself and the head of finance never got paid in November and December — voluntarily — so we could make the pay run,’ Burrows recalled.
Just when the walls were closing in, a donation from lifelong fan Les Hutchison eventually progressed towards the businessman buying
the club from Boyle for £1. Boyle’s recklessness had ended in administration for the club in 2002 but his largesse on this occasion could not be understated.
‘He (Boyle) took a big hit on that to keep it in Motherwell hands,’ Burrows said. ‘Les then took the pressure off everybody. We started restructuring the club.’
Yet the off-field uncertainty manifested itself on the field of play. Second in 2014, Motherwell only retained their top-flight status the following year after defeating Rangers in a play-off.
It seemed reasonable to question if the club’s move towards fan ownership was deeply flawed.
However, the club rallied to fifth under McGhee (again) in 2016, with the Well Society completing its purchase of Hutchison’s 76-per-cent stake in November of that year.
Ninth last season, seventh this term and in two cup finals for the first time since 1952, the model is enjoying a degree of vindication.
‘I’m not saying people want Motherwell to do well,’ Burrows mused. ‘But I think most want fan ownership to work.
‘Decisions should always have the club’s best interests at heart. Scottish football is littered with numerous examples where that hasn’t happened.’
Motherwell, assuredly, will not be allowed to overheat the way they did 16 years ago. But a tightly-run ship brings myriad challenges as well.
In a league that can be tighter than piano wire, the margin between success and failure can be almost imperceptible. Every waking hour of the man at the helm is defined by this fact.
He said: ‘There are usually only two emotions — relief or disappointment. There’s not a lot of joy. But do I enjoy it? Absolutely. My buzz is about trying to make it better all the time.’
Irrespective of how the cup final pans out, joy will soon be unconfined in the Burrows’ household. Wife Emma is due to give birth to their first child, a daughter, on June 15.
‘She asked me what I’ll do if her waters break on the day of the cup final,’ he said. ‘The best answer I could come up with was: “It depends what the score is at the time. If we’re winning, you’ve got no chance. If we’re getting horsed, I’ll see you at the hospital”.’
The prospect of a late Curtis Main howitzer sending Burrows’ good lady into labour at Hampden means she’ll watch from afar.
For the man who, 11 years ago this summer, put a camera in his rucksack and paid his own way to Austria, there will always be a dreamlike quality to such days.
‘I always look at the spot where I stood that day in 1991,’ said Burrows. ‘I do pinch myself sometimes. You do get so caught up in the day-to-day that you don’t allow yourself to sit back and think that, not so long ago, I was just a guy with a season ticket. Now I’m the guy who’s running the club.
‘But I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I’ve always worked my backside off for everything I’ve got.’