Another
excellent few weeks completed in the First Division, with there now being little doubt
that the initial objective, i.e. survival, will be met. The sages decreed that the real
acid test for the Clarets would be the month of November, but this was negotiated
successfully with seven points from four games played, with the maintenance of the only
unbeaten home record in the Division playing a big part. Even at the outset at the end of
October, it didn't look too promising following the 5-0 spanking at the City Ground, which
was a stark contrast to the game at QPR, which the Clarets completely dominated.
However there is more to a game of football than the scoreline, and this
one was misleading in two senses. On the one hand we could have gone in 1-1 at half time
if Branch had converted a half chance, and the headline of Branch scores against Forest
would have caused a rumpus in the arboretum. Instead, the Clarets defended a second free
kick in a sloppy fashion and it was virtually game over. The penalty sealed it and it was
just a question of how many BFC would concede from then on. The fact that the scoreline
stayed in single figures was attributable largely to the Suffolk Clarets' (me and Sid) Man
of the Match award (sponsored by Tower Access Scaffolding, phone Newmarket 500667 if you
want an erection) winner Jack Lester, who generously wasted a hat full of chances. At
least the question posed by some of his critics as to what Paul Cook does was answered
when he was taken off at half time. The answer being hold the midfield together, as Stan's
move of inserting the midfielder cum forward in the shape of John Mullin merely ceded
control of the park to the Forest midfield. With Forest's quick, darting forward line
exploiting the lack of pace at the back and the channels between the wing backs and the
back three, the defence were pulled all over the place. Forest, I thought, played out of
their skin and they were relentless; they never eased off, but then to their credit,
neither did the Clarets until number four went in. The game was played at an amazing tempo
and it was just too pacey for some of the Clarets players to live with. Although I didn't
enjoy the final half hour watching our side being shredded, it was worth it to hear those
Clarets fans that stayed get behind their side until the final whistle. Again, to their
credit, the Burnley players came across to pay their respects when they must have been
longing to get down the tunnel into their nice hot bath for the last half hour. Its never
enjoyable getting lashed 5-0, but this was nowhere near such a depressing journey as the
one back from Notts County last season.
As is the way these days, the lads bounced back immediately with a home
win over Crewe. Next on the agenda for me was a couple of fixtures I had been looking
forward to since the list was printed, i.e. visits to the Hawthorns and St Andrews, two
modern stadiums, nevertheless steeped in the history and traditions of the game. The West
Midlands, along with North East Lancs and the North East are the cradles of football, as
well as our traditional hunting grounds. Steel, coal mining, shipbuilding and cotton were
the backbone of our economy for almost a century. The West Midlands is an area like ours,
were people struggled hard for an existence and to keep body and soul together. Whilst
some found comfort in religion and the thought of the after life, others found it at their
local football stadium, where the comradeship fostered in eking out a living and resisting
the tyranny of bosses was solidified in their support for their local football team. (Marx
out of 10, please, Phil.)
Anyway, the Hawthorns is a nice accessible ground from Suffolk, thanks to
the A1-M1 link road, and a strong contingent of the Suffolk Clarets (including Sid and
Sidlettes) made the relatively quick journey to be there. Whilst it wasn't a classic for
football purists, it was an absorbing battle nonetheless, with the home side mounting the
expected early pressure. Fortunately the prolific Lee Hughes was suspended, which somewhat
blunted their attack, which was sporting the rusty stalwart Bob Taylor instead. The early
assaults were repelled with Paul Crichton taking the gloves, much to the delight of the
home fans, when NTG was crocked. This created the scenario for one of those great moments
in football and an illustration of the participatory nature of being part of a crowd
rather than a prawn muncher. The Albion fans gave Crichton the Dodgy keeper treatment and
were urging their players to shoot from ridiculous distances. However, after gliding past
three defenders and nutmegging Albion's number one, Branchy not only scored yet another
magnificent goal but presented the Clarets fans with an opportunity they were not going to
miss as we returned the Dodgy Keeper chants with interest. Childish, I know, but football
is a game for kids.
The game was hard fought as the Clarets were under pressure for large
amounts of the time but succeeded in keeping Albion at arm's length until Stan began to
make substitutions, I felt somewhat prematurely. Whilst we were 1-0 up I didn't see the
need to change anything myself, and whilst Cook's replacement Johnrose shackled the lively
Fox more effectively, we lost the edge in midfield. Mullin for Branch didn't really help,
and Megson brought off a defender for a midfielder in the shape of Quinn and suddenly WBA
began to create chances via the extra man in the middle. Eventually Roberts converted an
excellent move, a virtually undefendable goal fashioned by slick movement and control from
the opposition, three minutes from the end of normal time. A little disappointing, but we
were able to trot out the old cliché that we would have settled for the point beforehand.
The disappointment soon evaporated when we got back in the bus and realised that we had
held our own with a fellow top six contender. The journey home was enhanced by Adrian
Childs taking over from that nurd Littlejohn on the 606 phone in. Childs had come straight
from the game at the Hawthorns! Once the usual Premiership moaners had had their say we
actually got a caller from Burnley who was very positive and up beat, and the presenter
then praised the Clarets for their fervour and for creating a brilliant atmosphere.
Likewise I say to the Albion supporters.
After dispatching Sheffield United with a degree of comfort, so I am told,
next up was a trip to St Andrews, which was going to be a tick for me and undoubtedly
would generate yet another terrific atmosphere. The anticipation was heightened by an
uncharacteristic outburst by Stan. He declared that he was fed up with the lack of
recognition that we were getting by the media, you know, those people who wanted Keegan in
the England job and then filled acres of print telling us why he was such a Barclays
Banker. Why Stan should suddenly develop a sensitivity to what those reptiles think is
beyond me, however more to the point, the plot had thickened. From avoiding relegation
Stan was telling us that, "We are not one of the fancied teams like Fulham,
Watford or Blackburn, Bolton and Birmingham. We're not in their group but if we keep
working hard then we soon will be." Blimey, did someone spike his beer or
something?
In the light of day, it would appear that the ease with which Sheffield
were sent packing and the gritty draw at the Hawthorns had caused Stan to re-adjust his
assessment of the current side in relation to the rest of the field. Comparatively there
was not really a lot to be worried about. Whoa boy, wait a minute. Yep honest, in effect
the Clarets are top six material. Hmmm, not without a bit of strengthening here and there
methinks, as even WBA had let us off the hook to an extent. However true to form, Ternent
pulled a rabbit out of the hat when Moore was paraded in front of the faithful prior to
the kick off at St Andrews.
The game itself was a gargantuan affair: circa 20,000 in their seats with
a big contingent from Burnley. A special day for me, as I had persuaded Wowk Junior to
come and my Brother in Law as well, assuring them that this would be a real cracker. Not
only that, the gloves were definitely off with Little in for Weller, pointing to a toe to
toe showdown with Trev's lads. In terms of the match we weren't to be disappointed. Payton
spurned a good chance early doors and Branchy was once again in awesome form. Meanwhile
City managed to clatter the woodwork, but by and large the prolific Horsefield was kept
quiet, and his partner just kept falling over. Half time arrived with a very satisfactory
0-0, the game petering out to a bit of a stalemate. Unfortunately, Francis made a couple
of astute substitutions, Adebola for the falling over man and Lazarides for the listless
Burrows. Strangely the first goal came after a good spell of Burnley pressure, when a
great passing move came to nothing when Mitch put a cross in to the stand after making a
run to the bye line. City quickly exploited the fact that the Clarets were probably a tad
deflated by this, Mitch would take five minutes to get his breath back and Little can't
defend for toffee. A goal by the coveted Adebola was quickly followed by one from
O'Connor, standing unmarked in close proximity to the Burnley goal. City put together a
purple patch when they could have easily wrapped the game up, and frankly the Clarets
weren't at the races for 10/15 minutes. Although Weller came on for Little to try and get
hold of Lazarides, the double strike filled every home player with confidence and only
NTG, a few last ditch tackles and some poor finishing kept the game alive. Nevertheless,
as we have now come to expect, the Clarets rallied, and struck back through Coxy. They
were eventually zapped by a laser guided effort from substitute Burchill. Even then,
Weller kept the game alive until the final whistle, which signalled the end of an
absolutely cracking game of football.
I never thought I would type this, but I actually thought Stan went a bit
gung-ho fielding Little for Weller, and might have been wiser to approach this game with
his usual caution. On the other hand if we are going to progress we have got to test
ourselves against the best, and City's purple patch underlined some of the deficiencies in
the defence and possibly midfield, which for my money never looks as resolute without Paul
Cook. I actually think Stan abandoned his 46-games-in-a-season approach for once and was
genuinely narked by the 'Media', and actually went for a knockout job on Birmingham
deliberately to try and grab the headlines. In the event we were outboxed, given the old
one two and were effectively on a standing count until the final bell. Birmingham have a
lot going for them when they can afford to sit the likes Burchill, Adebola and Lazarides
on the bench and players like Ndlovu and Furlong aren't even on it. However, as we know
too well from last season, it's not always the sides with the 'best' players or that play
the 'best' football that come through; some skill and ability is required but unless it's
married to guts, determination and resilience you'll end up winning nothing except praise.
Moving swiftly on...
I elected to watch the long awaited 'Derby' with Blackburn Rovers from the
detachment of the Saloon Bar in the Priors Inn, Bury St Edmunds, mainly due to some
domestic commitments and memories of the atmosphere at the last re-enactment of this
fixture in 1982.
I felt sorry for the players and manager, because going into this game,
not only did they have all the media hype to contend with, the certainty of major violent
disorder, and the world watching via Sky TV, they had the mission of correcting the
imbalances and injustices inflicted by the spending of £100 million quid of Jack Walker's
money in one ninety minute game of football. For me, the size of the mountain was summed
up when Mark Hughes, ex Man United, Chelsea and Barcelona, with his bucket full of medals,
goals, Cup Finals, and a stack of International caps, was replaced by Matt Jansen, who
cost Blackburn £4.5 million, which is more than the total cost of the Clarets' entire
team, with Hignett and Dailly also on the bench, groaning with expensive signings. Drop a
few points? Sign Henning Berg, no problem.
This is an onerous burden to carry for a talented side of players, let
alone the fair to middling bunch of craftsmen and artisans that Stan has assembled. In the
second half, once Blackburn had been gifted the lead, the Rovers took full advantage of
the lack of any serious threat from the Clarets. The only bright spots in the game were
Ian Moore's early run and cross and Sparky missing the goal from cow's-arse-banjo range
with NTG AWOL. The second half was very disappointing, particularly as in the first thirty
minutes the Clarets played the better football without creating the penetration and clear
cut chances needed to take the lead. The goal resulted from increased Rovers pressure,
although the nature of it exposed some poor communication in the BFC rearguard, with
Mitchell making what seems to be his regulation gift to the opposition forward line, when
over the bar would have been the better option.
Stan quickly made changes in the second half, which seemed to have little
or no effect. Unable to mount any meaningful attacks and do an Anne Robinson on Rover's
rearguard, Rovers' midfield took the opportunity to take control of the game. Stan went
straight for his usual fall guy, and the enigmatic Cook had to make way for Johnrose, with
perhaps the failure of some of his more ambitious balls singling him out for this
treatment. Anyway, it made no odds as Ball, Mellon and the rest were by-passed just as
much in the middle and the Rovers often found themselves with men to spare in the Burnley
half. They had even more men to spare once Ball had performed his party piece, when he
summoned all his years of experience (obviously watching American TV wrestling shows) to
make the long walk. Actually, it seemed to make little difference, which might indicate
the extent of Bally's second half contribution and the reason for his public suicide
attempt. Perhaps replacing Ball with Mullin, a more forward thrusting player, rather than
taking off your playmaker when you need to score a goal, might have made more sense, and
in the event, kept the numbers even. However I am the first to acknowledge that it's easy
to work these things out sat in some far distant public house than in the middle of the
equivalent of football's version of the Drumcree march down the Garvaghey Road.
Nonetheless, the fact that Rovers didn't capitalise on this until a fairly fortuitous coup
de grace deep into injury time, underlines the feeling that really Rovers are actually not
that good, but can accept a gift or two when they're offered.
Anyway it's only one game in the season and the sooner everyone starts
thinking along those lines the better. Its out of the way now until April, and people may
have time to contemplate their own part in the proceedings. In the meantime, the team and
manager need to focus on getting to fifty points, which hopefully will be achieved in mid
January. It's not the end of the world, although it may well feel like it for all those
who pinned a lot of hope and expectation on this one game. Next time, Burnley fans would
be wise to treat the whole exercise in a much lower key, although the likelihood of this
happening is about as probable as Ian Paisley kissing the Pope's ring.
The last Sky TV game I saw was vs Scunthorpe, which ought to help get some
perspective on Sunday, as it was only last season. If we are going to lose, better to be
losing to the likes of Rovers than Scunny, is it not?
UTC, and Happy New Year
