Making up
the numbers
Isle of Man 1 Burnley 0
Report by Firmo
As we all know, pre-season results are no guide
to the coming season's form. Just as well. If we set any store by games like this then the
above scoreline might be a cause of embarrassment.
Lucky we didn't take it seriously, then! The
line up told a story. Making the Bowl at kick off, we’d struggled to figure out who
was who. The team was numbered 1-11 with no names on the shirts. Funny how quickly we've
come to rely on that innovation. An investment of 10p on a team sheet proved judicious.
Mawson was given his run out in goal and Little was dropped for Weller. Hang on, what was
this? They had Ronnie Jepson playing in central defence! Blaming the pre-match ten pints -
we’d taken our preparations seriously enough - we rubbed our eyes and looked again.
No, he was. Cox was said to be out due to a family bereavement and Davis was resting the
customary 'knock'. Kevin Ball was making his debut in midfield, apparently. 4-4-2, by
consensus.
The game quickly settled down into a moribund
pattern. Burnley had more of the ball, although didn't use it particularly well. The Manx
lads, wearing Watford colours, seemed to be concentrating on defence. We went for a stroll
around the ground's pleasant shallow oval. It was a sunny day, there were plenty of trees
and it would have been a perfect evening for a cricket match. We were impressed by the
large number of Burnley supporters there, including some familiar faces. It was a more
than decent gathering for a fixture that looked like a misprint. We thought this would be
a cult game when we'd selected a token one of the three to attend, but even Burnley's cult
following is pretty large these days.
Early impressions are that the new shirts are
indeed very nice, with a number of people having taken the opportunity to buy one before
popping over. As for the new players, Briscoe looked promising, fastish and fairly
determined. I thought Gray looked reasonably sharp too. Ball I didn't particularly notice.
It took me a while to realise he was playing. Being pretty much a truster of Ternent these
days, I assume better is to come. Of the old lads, Jeppo looked alright at the back, as it
happens. Against keen but not the best opposition, his aggression and willingness were
adequate. Wouldn't want to see him play there in the first division, mind. Johnrose had an
earful of cotton wool. Majority opinion was that this was the result of a recent ear
piercing rather than a medical matter. The substitutes were all having a merry time,
laughing at something unknown.
Little of incident in the first half, with the
ball not going particularly near either goal, and Burnley restricted to shots from a
ludicrous range, although I can report that my double cheeseburger was excellent. NB for
anyone who may go to the Bowl (well, you never know): get to the food van well before half
time or get stuck in a queue. Vegetarian option was a packet of crisps! The toilets
weren't bad for non league, and were of course actually better than some I could mention.
(Cardiff springs to mind.)
Half time brought scenes of anarchy to the pitch
with the outbreak of many mini matches between kids. One of these, a kind of manu v Brazil
shirts affair, continued behind the goal through the second half. This kind of kickabout
being far too energetic for us, we sat in the sun and recollected why we had stopped going
to pre-season friendlies for a few years. Actually, we came out with better purpose in the
second half, apparently after some kind of bollocking, and did muster some attempts on
goal. This was after Manx came close more or less from the kick off, heading wide before
we'd started playing again. As we were attacking our end we managed to get a good look at
the possible forward pairing of Gray and Payton. Not bad. Gray came close a couple of
times, although one header actually took the ball away from goal in a clearance a defender
would have been proud of.
The usual slew of substitutions had by now begun
to further disrupt what passed for our pattern of play, with Mellon replacing Johnrose and
Little coming on for an anonymous Weller. This was the part of the game when we had our
chances. Little hit the bar and Payton came close. Their goalie did well. Paul Cook kept
telling everyone to 'relax'.
Then came a small moment of footballing history.
We stood off a long ball flicked on and 'young Peel striker McGarvey' (I am indebted to
Manx AM, who had a reporter and summariser at the game) found himself one on one with
Mawson, dribbled it past him and rolled it in. There were evidently some Manx supporters
in the ground, as they stood up and cheered the goal. We began to take lame solace in the
kind of irony in which supporters of a good side having a bad game when it doesn't matter
can indulge. First shouts of 'Ternent Out' were heard.
We had a streaker! Some bloke ambled on dressed
only in a Burnley flag, which he opened to the crowd as he ran in a diagonal across the
pitch. However, there was some dispute over whether his was a proper streak, as he kept
the flag around his waist and we consequently did not see his buttocks. It was an
indication of the triviality of the game that no one tried to intercept him as he ambled
up to the steps behind the goal, where he calmly met his friends, got back into his
clothes and watched the rest of the game.
More subs had their turn, with Branch replacing
Briscoe and late substitutions of Lee for Payton and Cooke for West. We went to stand
behind the goal, determined to be on any photo of a Burnley equaliser to prove we were
there (although we pondered reducing the Three Goal Rule by one). We had one good chance,
Cooke hitting the side netting from close, but there was to be no late Burnley riposte. If
anything, we faded towards the end, and Manx had a couple of half decent counter attacks.
Ho hum.
The game finished and we decided to invade the
pitch. This was the second game running in which we had trod turf. The other, in as
different to imagine circumstances as possible, was Scunthorpe. If you wanted any further
illustration of the different attitudes of the same sides, Burnley couldn't get off the
pitch fast enough; the Isle of Man stayed on and went through a warm down.
So, back off to the Quarterbridge, the nearest
pub, to see what random drinks we would be served by the world's least competent barman
(and where mobile phone news of our alleged interest in Vinnie Jones was greeted
universally by groans), and then on further to sample the delights (?) of Douglas.
Although the beer's good, it's sort of like how England must have been before the 1960s.
One pub had a men only bar! The game was quickly forgotten, hence the almost total absence
of detail in this report, written some days later, when we had returned to the
civilisation of the mainland. (Rejected headlines: 'Bad Streak Continues', 'Manx for the
Memories' and 'Manx for Nothing').
We're not about to start reading too much into
the result. I did have some worries about the fringe players, who really should have been
using this game to push for a place. Weller did nothing, and Lee made no impression when
he came on. But I couldn't blame the lads for not taking this one seriously. Our spy had
seen that morning's training session and reported it was an extremely laid back affair.
August 12th is when it matters. No one enjoys a defeat, but the usual arguments
about the supporters deserving value for money don't apply to these kind of games. For a
start, it was only four quid to get in, and anyone who was here only for the football
needs to get a life. The only reason for games like this, as we all know, is to get to
drink somewhere different. From that point of view, it was a success.
Received wisdom about the Isle of Man is that
Douglas is horrid but the rest of the island is quite nice, and received wisdom couldn't
be more right. The next day we escaped from Douglas and had a much more pleasant afternoon
in Peel and evening in Laxey. Many more beers were had, with the pub count for the mission
finishing at 22 between Tuesday evening and Friday lunchtime in Liverpool, or 23 if you
count the ferry bar. Didn't make the Rovers Return in Douglas, which contains a shrine to
a fellow Nationwide Division One side, as it looked particularly unwelcoming, being the
only pub I saw with bouncers on the door. Did note that they had covered the pub name up
with binbags, which felt something like a moral victory.
While gallivanting around the island we came
across a copy of local rag the Manx Independent. Front page headline: Manx football
celebrates its greatest performance ever. Some sample quotes from the back page give you
some idea of the different perspectives the two camps took: "greatest result in their
history," "our local heroes produced a tremendously disciplined performance to
humble Burnley," "Wednesday's massive upset will now take pride of place in the
record books," and my favourite, "the 1-0 win provided the breakthrough the
island had been striving towards since the tournament kicked off in 1983." (Coach
Rick Holden also gave his views. Yes, that Rick Holden.) Seems that the best result the
island has ever achieved against a professional side was a penalty shootout win against
Wrexham in 1993. And in an odd way, I'm pleased it was us that they did it against. If I
ever encounter a Manx football fan, at least I'll be able to kick a conversation off. And,
while a little bit of history was being made, I'm glad I was there. Bit embarrassing and
all that, as we were kind of given top billing in all the local publicity, but I'm not
going to start getting worried yet. We didn't take it as seriously as the opposition, and
I have a feeling there won't be many times next season when we'll be able to say that.
Team: Mawson,
West (Cooke), Briscoe (Branch), Ball, Jepson, Thomas, Weller (Little), Cook, Gray, Payton
(Lee), Johnrose (Mellon).
London Clarets Man
of the Match: Lee Briscoe.
