Halfway
to paradise
QPR 0 Burnley 1
Report by Firmo
Can it last? Can it be that this current version
of Burnley, professional, disciplined, motivated and skilful - the very model of the
qualities required to survive and prosper at a higher level - is the true one? Is this how
it's going to be from now on? If so, this is going to take a bit of getting used to. Our
fourth successive first division win left us in sixth, and therefore - and how we relish
the unreality of these words - in a premier league promotion play-off position. In case it
doesn't last, and we slip to something fantastic like mid-table, we'll just have to try to
enjoy it here and now.
In truth, this was a drab kind of game, in
keeping with the gloomy surroundings, but we still won. QPR have that whiff of failure
about them. Clarets have developed a nose for these things; we can sense a side in
decline. Apparently they have such a severe stack of injuries that they were forced to
stick Iain 'Parrot Face' Dowie on the bench, whereas we, of course, were at more or less
full strength, although it's a testament to our all round improvement that we weren't
worrying about the loss of Little in the way we would have done last year. We just get on
with it. And at the moment, we're nothing if not consistent: like all away wins last
season and this, we won by a single goal. Afterwards, as is becoming customary, the
opposition manager said Burnley didn't deserve to win. They always say that, have you
noticed? Gerry Francis was, however, talking bollocks.
Burnley were always in control, and if one side
was going to win, it was always us. It wasn't a great first half, but we had the chances,
and their keeper had to make the saves. Mellon and Payton both had shots saved, while
Michopoulos had little to do. Our only problem seemed to be staying on our feet at the
start. Once again, we were able to remark that the opposition are better at staying
upright on a wet pitch than us. But this is a minor gripe.
I shall also almost resist the temptation to
bash the referee, as we don't need to at the moment. True, he was a homer, awarding a
string of minor decisions against us. He was also the tiniest referee I have ever seen.
Paul Weller towered over him. It's probably wrong to indulge in amateur psychology, but
surely this is over compensation? The away end chant was 'who's the jockey in the black?'
In contrast, QPR had presumably the division's tallest player, in the form of the
6'7" Crouch, and yes, I imagine he often has to. His presence has a profound effect
on QPR's style of play. They aim balls towards the head of this white Kevin Francis and
hope something bounces off to their benefit. Yawn. Mitchell Thomas, his marker, enjoyed
and had the better of this particular battle. The best away end shout was 'pick on someone
your own size'. I was desperate for the diminutive ref to book this freak. I yearned to
see him straining to hold the card up to something approaching chest level. Alas, it was
not to be.
Michopoulos' boredom could have cost us when he
decided to dribble a backpass out of goal… and kept going. His attempt to pass it was
botched, and QPR fired it towards an empty goal, but the shot was weak and Nick got back
to redeem himself. Apart from that, no worries. They were woeful in front of goal, and I
can't recall seeing a side put so many crosses out. Stan had obviously decided to stop
them getting corners into Crouch's bonce. We always had two men stood close to the taker
to stop them making a sneaky short pass and cross.
Half time brought the consensus that Burnley
were on top in a not brilliant game, and a weird competition that consisted of making
people spin around and around some kind of adapted traffic cone until they were made
dizzy, after which they attempted to take a penalty against QPR's unspecific animal
mascot. One Claret crashed to the floor, and the competition had the effect of making me
feel slightly queasy. Despite the mascot cheating, Burnley won. 1-0, naturally.
Onwards to the second half, which consisted in
the main of QPR's frail attacks being easily parried by Burnley, who were trying to find
the right ball through the middle or, less frequently, down the sides. Having a good game,
apart from the central defenders, of course, which we can pretty much take for granted,
were Micky Mellon and Kevin Ball. I've publicly slated the Mellon more times than I care
to remember, but this season he's playing the first sustained spell of decent football of
his Burnley career. He was good on the ball, smart and neat. Ball had the best game I've
seen in a tidying up role, at which he excelled. He cleared loose balls, helped the
defence, and joined things up from the back.
I also thought Branch had a good game, something
I'm beginning to get used to saying. His speed has become a real asset, and as something
of an unconventional striker, the opposition don't know quite how to play him. I was -
here we go - disappointed when he went off. Ah well. I know nowt about this game compared
to Stan. Mullin came on. Having played well at Tranmere, he'd been left out of the next
two games, which is another sign of how standards have risen. I thought it odd. Five
minutes later he'd won the game.
Davis got the ball and passed it to Mullin, some
distance out. Mullin was in line with the home defenders, to our left as we sat behind the
goal he ran towards. All of a sudden he turned, left his marker for dead, and from nowhere
was though with only the keeper to beat. As he headed goalwards we increasingly urged him
to hit it. He waited just long enough for the goalie to worry that he might cross instead
of shoot, and then shot. It was a precise finish, it nestled in the net, and the away end
went appropriately loopy. It had been a fabulous piece of individual skill from Mullin.
Payton could have sealed it shortly after,
around the time that we were singing daft songs about promotion. It was a chance of his
making. A backpass was sloppy and only Payton was hanging around just in case it was. He
seized on it and bore down on goal. He had to score. But the defender just managed to
force him wider than he would have wanted to be, and to take another touch. The shot was
strong, but straight at the keeper and at a saveable height. No one is unhappier about
Payton missing than Payton himself, and as he cursed close to goal we reflected that this
would have sealed it. If we didn't win now…
We needn't have worried. Sure, QPR threw men
forward, as you do when you're losing at home, but we coped. Michopoulos caught most, and
the defence were quick to clear, Davis and Ball both taking pleasure in belting the ball
away. We made our late substitutions. Johnrose replaced Cook, and you could tell even by
the way that he ran onto the pitch that 'Mad Dog' Lenny fancied some of this. He put in a
brilliantly determined ten minute cameo, in which it was generally a question of when,
rather than if, he would win the ball, although a daft run in which he somehow got close
to goal produced an unspeakably inaccurate shot. Robinson came on for Payton. He didn't
have much time to impress, and didn't, although once again he was willing to join in that
ball in the corner thing, which I enjoy.
The final whistle came after less than the usual
last minute worry, and the team left the field to mutual applause. We, after the ten
minutes it disgracefully takes to get out of the poky little away end, decided to drink
more beer, honouring the team by showing as much dedication to sticking the ale away as
they demonstrated in their approach to the match.
This was, above all, a professional performance.
The attitude of this team is exceptional. It's a cohesive team too. Again, as at Tranmere,
playing an established first division side, almost all of the ball skill came from our
players. And of the team that started the game, eight of them played for us in the second
division last season. Many of them are playing the best football of their Burnley careers.
Good isn't it?
Of course we should try not to get carried away,
but it's hard not to when Burnley are as high as I have ever seen them, and if we can't
enjoy it now, when can we? If you ask, no I don't think we'll finish the season in a
play-off place, and I conspire to keep one foot on the ground by looking no further than
our pre-season target of survival. Fifty points is normally enough, although of course
once you get there you suddenly start to feel you need more, but now, in October if you
don't mind, we've got the job half done. Something makes me think we're going to finish it
- with time to spare. Keep enjoying the season.
Team:
Michopoulos, Thomas, Cox, Davis, Briscoe, Weller, Ball, Cook (Johnrose 79), Mellon, Branch
(Mullin 66), Payton (Robinson 81). Subs not used: Armstrong and Crichton.
Scorer: Mullin
(70).
Crowd: 11,427.
Referee: R
Oliver of Sutton Coldfield.
London Clarets Man
of the Match: Kevin Ball.
The
home game
