Yes! It wasn't until the last few minutes of this game, when we were defending our lead, that I realised how much I wanted us to win this one. I think it may have something to do with the fact that I loathe Trevor Francis, and despise Crystal Paralysis, who are not so much a football club as a soap opera. Whatever the reason, this was very satisfying.
But the day was tinged with strangeness. I'd been out on Friday afternoon, which turned into being out on Friday night, and didn't have time to check the e-mails on Saturday morning. So I had no idea Paul Cook had gone. I wasn't alone. For most of the early drinkers this was fresh news. The universal reaction was one of bewilderment. Many suspected a wind-up. It's as hard to understand now as it was then. While he's never been the most popular with supporters, his recent performances have been outstanding. He's been an important player for us this season, and one I rate. To go from captaining a table topping first division side to turning out for crappy Wigan seems an almighty fall. A full explanation from Turf Moor is eagerly awaited, or failing that any gossip to the usual address (in the absence of the facts, we concentrated on starting a nice juicy rumour of our own). For now, we must once again remind ourselves that Stan Is Always Right. This move constitutes a test of faith. And faith must occasionally be tested. Here's how it works: Stan does something we are not sure about. We are tempted into doubting him. He then proves us wrong. We tell ourselves to trust him next time. So, much as I like Paul Cook, I make the leap of faith.
It did make for an odd and somewhat subdued start to the day, though. And further, was that really Sam Ellis walking past East Croydon station at about half past twelve? I was distracted at the time by watching a political protest from the Labour Party to stop the government selling off the postal service. Hang on…
And so, after several more pints in Croydon's excellent Builder's Arms, to the ground which now calls itself 'the Selhurst Park Stadium'. Nineteen quid to get in! Of course, Palace have two managerial wages to pay. (Shouldn't this make them twice as good as anyone else?) Stevie Bruce, Stevie Bruce, how does your garden grow?
Speculation pre-match, apart from 'mmm, that's a good pint of Fuller's, I wonder if I've got time for another?' centred on who would play in the absence of Taylor, and now, Cook. Media watchers will have noted that on the rare occasions that Burnley receive the honour of a match report - generally when Kevin Keegan's Man City aren't playing - the opposition are invariably referred to as being under strength. So don't expect the fact that for this game we were without skipper Davis, top scorer Taylor and (albeit by choice) stand in captain Cook to be acknowledged. Perhaps it's just that we don't make a fuss about it. A player is out, another one comes in. Not for us Coventry-style histrionics. Speculation had Alan Moore starting and Branch coming into the attack, or Ball joining a five-man midfield with Ian Moore alone up front.
As usual speculation was wrong! Branch was indeed in, but at left back, with left back Briscoe taking Cook's place in the five-man midfield. Stan demands a certain amount of positional flexibility from his players. Hmm, wonder what Ginola would make of that? Cox was our latest captain.
The away end was busy, there were many London Clarets there, and the atmosphere was great. Crystal Paralysis were unveiling their second concurrent manager, in the shape of football's arch miserablist Trevor Francis, but the Paralysis fans may know more about football than I generally give them credit for, as not once did I hear them chant Francis' name. True, on the evidence of this encounter, chanting is not the fashion in this blank corner of South London. Even so, one might have expected some encouragement for Paralysis' latest manager, their 27th in the last three years. I suppose it must be difficult to see Francis as any kind of messiah. The arrival of the former QPR (sacked), Sheffield Wednesday (sacked) and Birmingham City (sacked) manager at your club is hardly something to get excited about. But surely an over-loud playing of 'Glad All Over' isn't much of a fanfare. Still, at least Francis' presence made the media take an interest in the game. As we all know, it is better to have a famous manager than a good one. Just before kick off, the home dug out was crowded with cameras. Stan stood unnoticed in his gleaming white trainers.
The first real action in the game was a reckless tackle on Weller by the far touchline. It set the tone for the match. This game would be fast and competitive. It wouldn't be the greatest football match ever, but it would be busy and hard fought.
In this sort of match, the first goal is crucial. We got it! Before then, Alan Moore had already had a shot, and Glen Little hadn't made the best of an opportunity, while for them the ever whinging Clinton Morrison had a couple of headers. Ours was an unlikely goal. A corner was cleared, and that might have been that, but for Dean West's quick thinking. (According to Sport First, Dean West was Lee Briscoe, while the Observer intriguingly confused him with Arthur Gnohere.) West smartly nodded the ball back towards goal, and with the keeper astray Ian Moore's header was precisely placed to elude him. Moore knew exactly where the keeper was and what he was doing. It was a good, opportunistic goal.
Cue away end bedlam. Here was a striker who desperately needed a goal. It's interesting to note that the Burnley crowd has never really got on Moore's back. We'll always get behind a player who works hard, and Moore is a good example of that, despite his obvious loss of confidence in front of goal. We were, therefore, all very happy indeed. Moore tore off his white shirt, exposing an equally white body, and ran to the away end.
At least referee Paul Taylor didn't book Moore for taking his shirt off. Surprising this, as he generally spent the afternoon making himself a nuisance for both sides.
It was evenly contested after that, the game if anything faster than before, and no side keeping possession for long. The ball spent long spells in the air, and there were many headers. We could have done with a foot on the ball player, but Paul Cook was playing for Wigan. Ah well, SIAR.
Their equaliser was down to poor defending. To let them have one header near our goal was bad enough, but three! Again, it was tinged with fortune. The header that led to the goal could have gone anywhere, but it flew nicely towards Morrison, unmarked and close to goal, to head in. For about five minutes, the Paralysis fans came to life.
I mustn't be too hard on the defence. Cox was extraordinary. Captaining the side at the club he once played for, he put his heart and soul into holding together the defence. He needed to, because while West had a great game - chalk another one up to Stan - Branch was aimless and Gnohere was reckless.
For Little, however, playing Paralysis seems to cause him problems. Does he ever have a good game against them? In interviews he has claimed not to feel he has a point to prove against the club that rejected him, but he clearly does. He often tries too hard, and it doesn't come off. Given that he's going through a small difficult patch at the moment, he never really showed his best here. Perhaps we're not a one-man time, after all. The last few wins have been achieved with only limited input from Little. Let's hope the scouts were watching!
One interesting innovation at Selhurst Park compared to last season is that they have one of those big screens. If you get bored at watching the action on the pitch, you can watch in on the telly instead! Admittedly, this sounds a lot for nineteen quid, but it's probably better value than an ITV Sport subscription. They also show highlights, but omit anything controversial. This meant that the majority of Taylor's refereeing decisions were not re-shown. He definitely showed bias towards Paralysis in the first half, awarding a number of needless home free kicks, while letting their fouls go unpenalised. Perhaps he wanted Francis to get off to a win.
So it was 1-1 at half time, and the consensus of the away end great and good was that this was fair enough. On the big screen, they showed the goals. Sorry, goal. They only showed the home goal! 1-0 to the Beagles, then.
Ball replaced Weller early in the second half. Weller was perhaps injured, but as at Coventry, Ball looked sharp and quickly got himself into the game. By contrast, Morrison seemingly spent the entire half whinging at the officials, who for a spell had decided to referee fairly. Morrison is a decent player, but he's not the star he so clearly thinks he is. He'd be a better player if he kept his gob shut. He persistently moaned about offside decisions. Perhaps his energy would have been better spent trying to stay onside. Despite the expert views of the Paralysis fans to our left, so well placed to judge the accuracy of the linesman's decisions from behind the goal, Morrison was constantly and correctly offside.
They came closest early on with a long-range shot that hit the bar. It's possible that Michopoulos, having a steady game, had it covered. Our winner came a few minutes after, and it was an excellent goal. Ball won the ball and played it for Alan Moore. Alan took it on, while Ian ran. On the replay, you can see that Alan didn't even look up. He knew where Ian was, and played a perfectly weighted pass. Ian controlled it and shot sweetly into the bottom left corner. He followed this with another run towards the away end, where we were busy with pandemonium.
It was a just reward for his hard work, and for his ever lively presence up front in this game. Ian Moore obviously likes scoring against Trevor Francis' sides. Let's hope he gets sacked and persuades someone else to give him a job before we play them.
The rest of the game was about maintaining the lead, in the face of variable Paralysis pressure. We defended, sometimes calmly, sometimes desperately, against a backdrop of ferocious Burnley singing and chanting. How can we get an atmosphere like that at home? Among the highlights were a chant of 'Francis Out', although really it would be nice if he stays and works his magic for years to come, and a spontaneous, heartfelt cheer when Uncle Stan's characterful face loomed large on the big screen. At least he didn't have a fag in his mouth.
Although they came at us, Paralysis didn't have many shots. There was one that NTG would have seen late, and which he did very well to push wide, but many of their crosses were easy for him. They seemed to get a lot of corners but couldn't make them count. Plus Coxy was always there to clear.
Elvis replaced Little, often dropping back into midfield to defend and pass time. Our antique centre forward made one great tackle in the middle. It was tense, and Lenny Johnrose didn't make it any less so when, right at the end, on for the excellent Alan Moore, he gave away an unnecessary free kick. Thankfully, it came to nothing. After several extra minutes of time from somewhere, we had yet another away win!
This was no Coventry. That was a walk in the park, a stroll where we'd simply outplayed the opposition. We didn't play anything like that well here. Instead, this was a tough game that we won through hard work, persistence and self-belief. Those are good qualities to have. Promotion-chasing teams need them.
Are we a promotion-chasing team, then? The pressure not to tempt fate is still huge. We can joke about needing another seven points for safety, but it increasingly doesn't ring true. What are we going to say when we've passed the 50 points? If, just about half way through the season, you're top of the table, averaging a whisker away from two points a game, you have to assume you're in with a chance. Even the pundits are beginning to say so! Back in the Builder's Arms, where a good number of London Clarets were attending a close-to-Christmas drinking session, we caught edited highlights of the game on ITV Sport. We probably doubled their viewing figures. We cheered every Burnley move and sung our chants at the unreceptive screen. Afterwards, the expert opinion of the panel was that 'Burnley have to be taken seriously'. Quite. I assume the manager of the month award is a formality.
Uncle Stan commented on the rumours of transfers - both arrivals and departures - after the game, saying, "I would like to go out and get someone better than the players I have here, but we might be classed as having champagne tastes on beer money." Stan, many of us prefer beer anyway. Keep concocting this divine brew from cheap ingredients. Many of us can't get enough, and it doesn't even seem to come with a hangover. And of course (we finished the evening in the Claret Free House), we'll keep drinking it up.
Trevor Francis - can we play you every week?