Last Night A DJ Saved My Life
Burnley 2 Preston 1
Report by Pauline Pratley
I’m not too sure that I should be allowed to write this report. You see, I am a football hooligan (dictionary definition: "a person who acts in a violent way without thinking and causes damage"). Indeed, prior to Sunday’s game I was nearly arrested for assaulting a Preston police officer. Of course, I brought the problem on myself, committing the obvious and serious crime of walking on the pavement near the away end after buying a programme from… a programme seller on the pavement near the away end. Having committed this act, I then failed to react to a nearby police officer bellowing "Oi, luv!" I had no idea the person shouting was either a) shouting at me, or b) a police officer. Of course, I should instantly have realised that the officer was courteously advising me to step off the pavement, but sadly I had stupidly left my Chauvinist Piglish–English dictionary at home.
Unfortunately my companion – who didn’t realise either who was shouting, but guessed it to be at me, and objected to both the words and the tone of voice – responded to the remark. He was immediately rugby-tackled by the brave and fearless officer, and pinned up against one of the Preston coaches. When I intervened to ask what was happening, I was grabbed by another of Lancashire’s finest, his face inches from mine through his riot helmet. As I instinctively tried to back off, brushing his chest in the process, he grabbed me again (hard), tried to drag me away and said I had assaulted him. Anyone who knows me will laugh at the absurdity. Not only am I totally opposed to violence, I am very possibly the weakest person on the planet. But no – I had "hit" him. As I demanded to see his superior officer, other officers appeared out of nowhere to confirm that they too had witnessed the "assault". I was particularly impressed (after mentioning that I would prefer not to be addressed as "love") by the number of times they subsequently managed to work the word into their conversation. Now that I know the required etiquette for dealing with complete strangers, I must remember that when I next need to ask something of a police officer, the correct form of address will be a shouted "Oi, luv". I’m sure that will go down a treat.
Anyway, to cut a long story short: I wasn’t arrested, I managed to obtain the officers’ numbers, and will be complaining in due course to Lancashire Police. But this wasn’t an isolated incident. I have endured other sarcastic and patronising remarks myself, and have also witnessed other supporters being treated in a similar manner. When away from football, should I need to consult a police officer, I am invariably treated with courtesy and respect. Discuss.
Due to my outbreak of uncontrolled violence, I arrived at the ground seconds before kick-off having missed Gazza’s introduction to the fans. To say that I wasn’t happy would be a gross understatement. Oh well – at least our other new signing, David Johnson, was in the starting line-up:
Burnley: Beresford, West, Thomas, Cox, Briscoe, Weller, Grant, Ball, Alan Moore, Ian Moore, Johnson. Subs: Michopoulos, Cook, Little, Blake, Payton.
Preston: Lucas, Edwards, Gregan, Lucketti, Alexander, Keane, Etuhu, Rankine, Cartwright, Healy, Cresswell. Subs: Moilanen, Eaton, Gudjonsson, Basham, Anderson.
Before the game, I had struggled to form any kind of opinion on the likely result. It could be taken for granted that David Moyes’ departure would surely impact on Preston; but then again, our recent home form had hardly been wonderful. Like many overhyped derbies, then, it was sure to be a bore draw.
I couldn’t have been more wrong. In the first half, we were fantastic. Any Clarets watching the match on TV must have thought they’d died and gone to heaven. Our first goal came before many people had even settled properly into their seats (indeed, I was still halfway through mugging the person in front of me). A super run from Johnson saw Lucketti make a weak back-pass to Lucas, who tried to clear the ball but only succeeded in finding Ian Moore. Mooro controlled the ball beautifully on his chest, and then chipped the unfortunate Lucas.
The Preston fans looked stunned – actually, most Burnley fans probably did as well! Most of us had certainly not been expecting to be in the lead with barely five minutes gone. I worried that it was to be a false dawn – but no. Wave after wave of Claret attack saw Preston barely get a look in. Their defence looked decidedly shaky, and it seemed that we would score again at any minute.
In the 11th minute we were unlucky not to be 2-0 up. A long-distance shot from Grant brought a superb save from Lucas, who managed to palm the ball away for a Burnley corner. Briscoe’s poor delivery saw us fail to capitalise, but it proved to be only a temporary blip. Indeed, my only real concern was the space that West was giving Keane and Healy. Still, they had precious few real chances as we dominated all over the pitch.
On 22 minutes, Johnson found himself in a good position following an excellent ball from Alan Moore. Unfortunately, he went for a spectacular overhead kick when something less flashy would probably have worked better. The ball trickled out for a goal kick, giving the Preston fans something to laugh about.
Their amusement didn’t last long, though, as almost immediately Johnson was through again. This time Lucas and Lucketti combined to just keep the ball out of the net. No time to relax, though, as on 25 minutes, Johnson tricked his way past Lucketti (who was by now sporting a rather fetching head bandage) and stroked the ball into the corner of the Preston net. 2-0!
Ian Moore must have been feeling left out, and soon it was his turn to be one-on-one with Lucas. Unfortunately, his shot was straight at the keeper. Soon it was Johnson’s turn again, and once again he found himself with only the keeper to beat. Unfortunately he took the ball too wide, and found only the side netting.
As the half drew to a close, Preston threatened briefly with a couple of free kicks, a long-distance shot which went well over, and a header across the face of goal from Keane (who had once again given Westy the slip). Oh – and Johnson got through again, only to be foiled by Lucas who got down to make a good save at his feet.
During half time, the Golden Gamble draw was made by someone called Zak Dingle from Emmerdale. Thank goodness we were winning, otherwise any entertainment value would have been solely for the Preston fans!
Having being spoiled rotten in the first half, hopes were high for an easy Claret victory. We started brightly enough, with a couple of free kicks in useful positions and some excellent work by Ian Moore almost seeing him double his tally for the match. The first half’s hero, Johnson, was still causing problems, and I wondered about the possibility of 3-0.
It wasn’t to be, though, as Preston slowly began to get back in the game. Stan took off Weller and brought on Little – to huge cheers – but Preston maintained their pressure, a shot from Etuhu bringing an excellent save from Beresford. Our only real chance was a shot from Ball – yes, it went into Row Z!
O’Hanlon must have scented an opportunity, taking off Cartwright and bringing on Iain Anderson. The change seemed to momentarily unsettle Preston, and Moore, Grant and Ball all had good chances. Preston soon rallied, however; Healy getting through only to be foiled by an excellent tackle from Coxy, and the disappointing Cresswell’s diving header forcing Marlon into a good save.
By now, Johnson was struggling (having received treatment earlier following a couple of fouls). Stan took him off, to a standing ovation, and brought on Cookie. Still Preston continued to attack, though, and it was surely only a matter of time before they scored. Marlon – a virtual spectator for much of the first half – was kept busy, but was having a good game. Even the appearance of a streaker on the pitch failed to disturb Preston’s rhythm. In the end it was Anderson who scored, with a well-controlled shot that left Marlon with little chance.
A collision between Lucas and Little might have brought us something, but to be fair, Lucas was probably more victim than villain and duly got the free kick. I steeled myself for a nail-biting finish and two points dropped, but we actually finished the game strongly. Stan took off Ian Moore and brought on Blake, who looked lively and gave the Preston defence cause for concern. Indeed we could have been awarded a penalty when Alan Moore was brought down in the area, but Paul Durkin (who had had a good game) decided it wasn’t to be. No matter, though, as nearly five minutes of stoppage time later the game was at an end – and we were 4th in the table! A superb performance. Now all we have to worry about is whether Gazza is good enough for our team!
PS On the way home from the game, I mugged a couple of old ladies, stole a car, burgled a house and stabbed a couple of people just for the sake of it. Of course, no-one stopped me, as by then I had ceased to be a football supporter and was once more a civilised and respectable member of society.
Team: Beresford, West, Thomas, Cox, Briscoe, Weller (Little 59),
Grant, Ball, A Moore, I Moore (Blake 88), Johnson (Cook 72). Subs not used: Michopoulos and Payton.
Scorers:
Ian Moore (5), Johnson (25) / Anderson (84).
Attendance:
18,388.
Referee:
Mr P Durkin (Portland) – 8/10.
Pauline’s Man of the Match:
David Johnson – Stan, get him signed up!
The away game
and this
match last season
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