Small boys
in Bishop’s Park, jumpers for goalposts...
Some reflections on Fulham 3
Burnley 1
Report by John Pepper
Oh, you know, Craven Cottage isn’t it,
marvellous... down by the Thames watching the boat race, Johnny Haynes and George Cohen,
Diddy David Hamilton at half time... enduring image, isn’t it? Well, I’m sorry
but there’s still something about Fulham that brings out the Ron Manager in me, even
now when they are owned by an obscenely wealthy Egyptian shopkeeper and can field an
extremely talented multi-national team managed by a former French international. It’s
probably partly to do with the fact that for a long time Fulham’s endearing blend of
incompetence on the field and almost total in-offensiveness off it made them the
neutrals’ favourite. It’s certainly partly to do with the fact that one-time
Fulham manager Alec Stock was the direct inspiration for Paul Whitehouse’s priceless
characterisation.
Fulham have been my local team ever since I
first moved to Putney, and I’ve even been known to grace the terraces at Craven
Cottage at times other than when Burnley have been playing there. Not regularly, mind, but
just when I’ve been at a loose end of a Saturday afternoon early in the season,
usually when the sun was shining, or when a friend’s team, for example Exeter, were
playing there. At that time the most exotic Fulham player was left back Robbie Hererra, of
South American parentage, but actually hailing from Torquay. Since then, of course,
Hererra and his colleagues from the side that achieved promotion from Nationwide Division
Three under Mickey Adams (remember Mike Conroy?) have all been sent packing. The
unfortunate Adams himself was also shown the door in order to make way for that well-known
cardboard messiah Kevin Keegan.
I know that the cosy old perceptions of Fulham
are now as outdated and cliched as those involving the hills and mills of Burnley, so
beloved of lazy journalists, that I used to get so steamed up about. No, let’s not
kid ourselves, these days Fulham are just another of the 91 league clubs about whom I
couldn’t really give a monkeys. They’re certainly not as objectionable as
Chelsea, but then they’d really have to go some to achieve that sort of status.
They’ve now got money by the shedload, of course, which is quite demonstrably
bringing them success, along with an inevitable measure of arrogance.
And so, to the evening in question. Having taken
up our places towards the back of the open terrace of the Putney End, I must say that it
took me quite some time to work out our formation. It was clear that Andy Cooke was
operating as sole striker, and that Gordon Armstrong had returned to the side in the
absence of the injured Steve Davis. What it actually was, I now gather, was a sort of
3-3-3-1, incorporating two ranks of midfield in a bid to nullify the threat posed by
Fulham’s creative players. If that sounds negative, it certainly didn’t seem
like it. It’s in games like this one where Stan’s tactical nous really comes
into play. He’d taken the lads to watch Fulham destroy Barnsley the previous Sunday.
On the Tuesday evening he sent them out to do a particular job in a particular way, and
they gave it a damned good go.
Early impressions that we were more than holding
our own were given an unexpected boost when Paul Cook’s free kick looped haphazardly
off the Fulham wall and into the net after ten minutes. Having thus torn up the home
side’s script, our main stratagem for the rest of the first half was to hunt down
Fulham’s players in order to deny them time on the ball to impose the kind of passing
game that had so imperiously swept aside the likes of Birmingham and Barnsley. This worked
so well that by the half time break we were still leading, and Fulham were beginning to
look frustrated.
Indeed, if the referee had seen fit to award us
a penalty when Andy Cooke went down under Chris Coleman’s challenge with the score
still at 1-0 early in the second half, who knows how things might have turned out? I
can’t say that I felt particularly aggrieved about it at the time, but to
Coleman’s credit, he had the honesty to say that he would not have been surprised if
it had been given. Shortly after this, however, our dreams of two consecutive away wins
were dealt a blow when Chelsea reject Bjarne Goldbaek drove the ball direct from a
free-kick into the top corner of Crichton’s net to put Fulham level. Stan went on the
record as saying that it should have been saved, but that seems a bit harsh on the
Admirable to me. From where I was standing it looked like a superbly executed and
well-nigh unstoppable shot.
Fulham now began to turn up the heat in search
of the winner, and when Louis Saha stormed through the middle to head them in front, it
looked like the defeat that we had all expected was going to materialise after all. Stan
sent on Payton and di Branchio to try to retrieve the situation, but by this time Fulham
were really starting to hit their stride. I don’t remember too much about their third
goal, to be honest, but it would have been an injustice if they had added further to their
total. Fulham are obviously very good and will really take some stopping this season
– their side contains a lot of players with experience at a high level, both in this
country and elsewhere, and the way they move the ball around is quite frightening at
times.
But, there is absolutely no reason for us to
feel disheartened. We played well against a team with a lot of quality in it, and we made
them work hard for the victory, a fact subsequently acknowledged by none other than our
old friend Chris Coleman. At the final whistle, the players were applauded from the field
by the large contingent of travelling Clarets, most of whom must have made a second trip
to the capital in four days, despite the fuel crisis.
So, all in all, I think most of us came away
feeling quite encouraged. The lads turned in a very creditable performance against a team
that is quite clearly head and shoulders above almost every other side in the division.
Cox, Weller and Little in particular shone in this company, and everyone else worked hard
(actually, I think there may have been some dissatisfaction with Kevin Ball, which you can
read about elsewhere). Indeed, Burnley played much better than they had done three days
previously in the 1-0 win at Selhurst Park. I must say it’s nice to see us taking on
the top sides and giving them a run for their money, but the really important games for us
this season are the less glamorous ones against the Grimsbys and Crewes of this world.
Provided that we can consistently see off the less fancied teams, then I’m sure
we’ll be all right.
The Fulham supporters we chatted with along
Stevenage Road after the game reckoned that Burnley had done pretty well and that they
were, in fact, the best side to have visited the Cottage so far this season. Burnley have
lost on every one of my visits here, but actually being patronised by Fulham supporters is
still something of a relatively new experience. Still, when you bear in mind that Fulham
have been on the receiving end of that sort of thing for what probably feels like
centuries, you can’t really blame them for making the most of it now that their turn
to be rather good has finally arrived.
On the debit side, it was disappointing to see
that the Craven Cottage stewards have reverted to their policy of searching everyone
entering the away end, but only, of course, after they have paid to get into the ground. I
always find this sort of presumption that away supporters invariably spell trouble
depressing. I’d bet a pound to a penny that no one, but no one, gets searched going
into the home end. Guilty until proven innocent seems to be the way of things for visitors
to the Cottage these days. Of course, we don’t want to see missiles being thrown, but
playing into the hands of stupid and inadequate people by giving them licence to chuck out
anyone they don’t like the look of is a backward step. How about a full
Heathrow-style body search for all Fulham supporters who make the return trip to the Turf?
Let’s hope the stewards have the rubber gloves ready!
Tim Quelch's report
and the story of Firmo's night plus the
home match
