The Bourne Supremacy

FOR the last hour I have been sitting stock still, staring into space.
Sky Sports News is on the TV, wittering on about some European Champions League quarter-final between Real Madrid and Spurs - but I've been taking little notice.
With beer in hand, and still adorned in my retro Rovers shirt, I guess I can hardly believe what has just happened.
And the only time the truth hits home is when I transfer my eyes to see the little tickertape message at the bottom of the screen.
Bristol Rovers 1 Bournemouth 0, it says.
A Jeff Hughes penalty for Rovers lifts them out of the relegation zone.
It follows that by telling me how our rivals at the bottom - Dagenham and Redbridge, Notts County, Tranmere and Plymouth - have all lost.
It even has the cheek to say Dagenham STAY in the relegation zone, when anyone who has studied the situation closely - and thousands of us Gasheads have - know that Dagenham weren't in that position until tonight.
They are there because we won.
Again.
For the fourth time in six matches under temporary player-manager Stuart Campbell.
Our shining light. Our comic-book hero. Our footballing deity.
The reason I am sitting in silence is because I have no voice left.
I've spent the previous hour and a half shouting myself hoarse for the Gas.
I've cajoled, bullied, harassed, hounded, praised and sung my Blue and White quartered heroes to a win that even the most optimistic Gashead could only dream about.
The bare stats don't really tell the story. They say that Bournemouth had about nine shots on target and eight off target.
We, on the other hand, had two on-target and one wide of the mark.
It sounds like another game - like Yeovil on Saturday - where we just got lucky.
I would be saying as much if I had only been able to monitor the game from my office computer, the TV or radio.
But in truth there is something stirring at the Mem.
Something that has been lacking for four years.
It's a movement, a passion, a crusade shared by every player in the Rovers squad and by every Gashead worldwide.
Suddenly we believe.
Yes, Bournemouth were good.
Yes, they created chances and perhaps we were lucky that they weren't a tiny bit more clinical.
But the way we played, the spirit we showed, the team camaraderie that was evident - sometimes those things alone are enough to pull you through bad times.
I wonder where it had been - not just over the last 20-odd games but over the last two years.
Perhaps we never really felt we had something to fight for.
Perhaps we just thought we were better than we were.
Whatever the reason, our current plight and reaction to it has reminded me of why I am a Bristol Rovers fan.
It is that perennial battle against the odds, the time when you feel it's us against the world, the position of underdog in a football stratosphere that is weighted heavily in favour of winners.
The atmosphere at the Mem tonight was incredible.
It was as if there were 5,500 of us lined up alongside Conrad Logan in the Rovers goal, keeping the ball out with our sheer will.
And though the stats say it was one sided, I thought we showed we wanted it more and, to be fair, had Chris Lines scored with a 30-yard free kick which had the goalkeeper rooted to the spot as it bounced off the bar, then it might have been an even more convincing win.
Things, of course, could still go wrong.
We have hard games coming up.
Others still have matches in hand.
Our captain and star striker Will Hoskins was carried away from the pitch with what appeared a serious ankle injury in the first half.
Player-manager and God Campbell limped off midway through the second half.
Two of our key players - and who knows the extent of their injury problems?
But I am not sure it matters. Because that would just present more odds for us to rail against, defy and ultimately conquer.
Conquer with players like Conrad Logan, one of the more extrovert goalkeepers in an exceedingly extrovert profession.
With Danny Coles, a heavily criticised centre back who never really looks fully fit but will sweat blood for the cause.
With James Tunnicliffe, signed on loan from Brighton and immediately cast aside by our first manager Paul Trollope before being considered so inadequate he was dropped to play with the youth team by replacement boss Dave Penney.
And with Danny Senda, a player who was having his contract ripped up by League 2 Torquay just a short while ago after struggling to recover from an injury nightmare.
They are an assortment of odd-balls, waifs and strays and cast offs.
And, like we gasheads, they are sticking two-fingers up to convention and saying that, sometimes, you don't have to be the most skillful, best physically equipped or most brilliantly coached player to achieve something remarkable.
Sometimes something just works. A weird chemistry.
There is no official Number 12 in the Rovers squad.
It is a number that, on the squad list, refers simply to Gasheads.
We are the 12th man.
At last, it seems, we have 11 players we are proud to stand alongside.