In some ways, this was predictable. The top
side (hey, that's us!), playing at home, beat the newly promoted, winless team with a
degree of comfort. And Moore (junior) duly got the goal against Moore's (senior) team. The
additional three points maintained Burnley's status as the number one team in the
Nationwide League.
Yet in other ways, this was not what we have come to expect from Burnley.
We all know that when a stirring away win against a fancied side is followed by an
apparent home banker, there is danger. The script is a familiar one: trust Burnley to cock
it up. And, if the laws of football decreed an (I) Moore goal, we all knew that returning
Claret-that-was Alan Lee was guaranteed one too.
But these are different times, when it does not do to make predictions
based on the old ways. You see, things have changed around here. So we got the win, our
fifth of the season, from six games. Our three goals not only kept us top of division one,
but made us the outright highest scorers, and officially, therefore, the most entertaining
side around. When Andy Payton stuck our conclusive third, he became the eleventh Burnley
player to score in the League this season. I don’t normally go in for statistics, but
for these extraordinary facts, I'm happy to make an exception.
Just now, I can almost get a glimpse of what it must be like to be one of
those weird people who can switch their allegiance from one club to another. You know
them, those sad cases who once ‘supported’ Liverpool or you-know-who but now
‘support’ Man Utd. It's like after years of supporting a hopeless case,
I’ve made the break and decided to follow a better team, one that gives me a better
hope of seeing a win, and even a chance of being entertained. It might all take a bit of
getting used to, but I think I could try.
My enjoyment was despite the usual frustrations of the journey. Yeah,
course we were late again. Some things you can't change. As usual we missed the connection
at Preston by a matter of minutes, despite, oddly enough, hanging around to kill time at
Milton Keynes on the grounds that we were early. You tell me. This did at least give us
the opportunity to establish a new Black Horse record of three and a half pints - another
notable statistic - before going for the hour later train, which of course was late in a
way that the train we missed an hour before wasn't. Just once, it would be nice to arrive
at Manchester Road at twelve o'clock and have to decide what we'll do. Ah well, I guess we
got enough to drink anyway.
Part of the reason for this somewhat lengthy preamble is that not much
happened in the game itself, particularly the first half. But let's do the report anyway.
We played in a 4-5-1 system, as at Bradford, with Cox still out injured and Taylor only
making the bench. Briscoe was out, apparently with an injury, and he was replaced by
Gnohere in the only change. Two defenders out? No problem. We have a squad. But I think
most of us expected to see Taylor back after a week of international inactivity. That
said, it would seem Stan has a habit of reminding international players that there is a
price to pay if they make themselves unavailable. Remember Ian Cox's flirtation with that
Trinidad mob? What price another international retirement?
The 4-5-1 is probably a system more suited to away games than at home,
where we will be expected to make the running. Moore (I) was left rather isolated up
front, and Little, playing sometimes sort of left and often sort of nowhere, struggled to
get into the game. Meanwhile, Alan Moore sensibly opted out of the day's Moore-fest and
made the match reporter's job much easier by having his quietest Burnley game so far.
Perhaps he was trying to avoid the usual booking.
Rotherham, in a very attractive blue away kit, are a tidy sort of side,
neat and hardworking, but their recent history from two divisions lower shows at this
level. I'd like them to stay up, partly because the London Millers who travelled and drunk
with us are good sorts, and partly because there are other sides I want to go down more.
But I remember us in 1994-95. When you don't get the breaks you'll blame anything - a
referee, the woodwork, bad luck - rather than admit you're just not quite good enough.
As for Alan Lee, when he left I thought he'd been the victim of bad timing
more than anything. We'd just gone up before we'd expected to. Had we stayed down, he
might have prospered in another year of second division games. But the first division was
a level too far, and so it made sense to move him on, where of course he did well for
Rotherham in the land we'd left behind. For his return to Turf Moor, the question then was
whether he was good enough for the first division after all. On the strength of this, no:
he had a quiet game and didn't make an impact. Good call (again) Stan.
It was Rotherham's other striker, Mark Robins, a better player than you'd
think, who had the clearest chance of the half, and it brought the best from Michopoulos,
who flew across the goal to push away Robins' certain header. Robins acknowledged the
reflex skill, the Greek's best asset, with a sporting handshake.
We didn't muster anything like as serious a chance, despite some good
approach work by I Moore and, oddly enough Gnohere, who's a fine sight rampaging forward,
but less convincing under pressure. He's a curious mixture of muscularity, attacking flair
and nervousness, that one. But shots were rare. Rotherham crowded like Albanians in
defence, and play was stuck in the middle. Unfortunately, in that department Paul Cook was
too often guilty of tarting about. It all made for a rather bitty and unexciting game.
Still, my pie was nice.
The half time consensus was that we would need Taylor on, for either Cook
or Moore (A). Hardly radical. Me and my brother also decided some positional changes were
required, and therefore left our seats towards the Cricket Field Stand to fill sunny spare
spaces in the London Clarets season ticket holders' enclave at the very front of the Harry
Potts upper. This had an immediate impact, for which we take all the credit. Within a
couple of minutes it was 2-0 and all was right with the world.
Stan of course, didn't get where he is today by doing what you expect him
to. He knows best, and if he didn't see the need for team changes at half time, the two
goals proved him right. Perhaps he'd instructed them to bypass the midfield congestion by
playing earlier, longer balls, of the sort you're not supposed to play if you're trying to
impress people. Whatever, it worked. Little's long pass found I Moore lurking near the
box. He wriggled away from his minder, evaded the keeper, and from a difficult angle
produced a calm and precise shot. I'm sure his dad would have been secretly proud,
although as that idiotic music blared, I looked across at the Rotherham bench and saw no
sign of emotion.
Good goal by Moore (I), then. Another 18 this season and he'll have
cracked it.
Before we knew it we were 2-0 up. The supplier was the same, although the
goal owed something to the goalkeeper's hesitation. Little's long ball landed ahead of
Weller, he got there ahead of Pollitt and expertly placed it, over him and into the net.
Another good finish, and encouraging from a player who seems to be feeling his way back in
since injury.
So for a second time we were treated to a gormless jingle. I've said
enough about this elsewhere. This time I'll just content myself with observing that the
saps lavished brain cells on this little wheeze are merely passing through the club. We
will endure, and we'll see this nonsense off.
Game over? Not quite yet. One and they'd be right back in it. With a goal
to chase they had to get forward a bit more, while we relaxed and our boots started to
chuckle. This all made for a more pleasing game for the neutrals. Oh sorry, forgot: there
are no neutrals.
Gnohere underlined the new fact that our goals could come from any source
by going not far off after a wing rampage. We ever had a good run and cross from Dean
West! On the other hand, it took another smart save from NTG to push away another header,
while they also hit the post.
By then, the subs were on. The Longside pundits were vindicated by the
introduction of our Gareth, although disappointingly he came on for Moore (I), Ternent
deciding to call a halt to the Moore, Moore, Moore show and deny us a chance of playing
with two strikers. That was, at least, until Andy Payton joined us, unusually early by his
standards, for Weller, giving the team a more conventional feel. Hey, we're so composed
we'll take off both our scorers.
Rotherham made an interesting substitution too, finally giving Nick Daws a
chance to play at Turf Moor. Ever since Uncle Stan first came to rescue us, it seemed we
were about to sign Daws. For years, speculation had it that he would be a Claret any day
now. As we know, all speculation proved worthless when he moved to Rotherham. So this was
a chance to see what we were missing. Which, on the admittedly brief evidence of this, is
not much. Looks like Stan might have got it right. Again.
To be honest, the third goal rather flattered us. It wasn’t as one
sided as that. This time it was Armstrong who put Taylor through with the ball in front of
him. You could sense he wasn’t at his most comfortable like this, and his first touch
was dreadful, sending the ball squirting away. Fortunately, help was at hand in the form
of Pollitt, who capped a miserable afternoon by bringing Taylor crashing down to earth.
You won’t see many clearer penalties than that. It could have been a sending-off too,
but you couldn't say Taylor had the ball under control, and perhaps the referee felt sorry
for them, so yellow it was. A slight fracas broke out by the area, but one man stood
unruffled by the centre spot, waiting patiently for the fuss to die down so he could stick
the ball away. This was Andy Payton’s chance to score his first of the season, and
Paul Cook could forget all about his unlikely bid to become our top scorer. Nice to get
some penalties for a change this season. Payton's finish was as precise as you’d
expect, and shortly after it was time for the sprint up Manchester Road for a stupidly
fast pint.
Some other notable statistics of the day included a creditable win for
Su'lan' against some hopeless local team or another, Kevin Keegan's lads providing another
marvellously entertaining display at West Brom and David Moyes' sinking ship leaking a
little more against Wolves. If life gets any better than this, I may explode with smugness
and wellbeing.
The excuse for the late train this time was a gem. Believe it or not, due
to the large number of elderly people on the train, and their frequent need to use the
toilet, the train had to stop at Halifax to take on more water. These people are nothing
if not creative. In the diminished time available in a Preston curiously bereft of home
support we celebrated our re-confirmed status as league top dogs as much as possible. The
journey home didn’t even need to use up all of its catch-up time, and we even grabbed
a sneaky pint in London. Only when I stepped off the tube for the walk home and found
myself thinking about the events of the morning as though they happened a week ago did I
remember how tiring it all is.
The Rotherham fans couldn't quite believe we were top of the league. They
seemed to expect a table-topping side to play better than that. Of course, we know we can
play better, but do you remember how we managed our promotion two seasons ago? There are
days when you have to be good enough, and there are days when you have to do rather better
than that. This was a good enough day. If we can win 3-0 at home without playing
particularly well, what does that tell you? And isn’t it all about finishing chances?
We took ours. They didn’t. That's much of the difference between success and failure.
And I tried to suggest to our Rotherham fans, although I could tell they
weren’t convinced, that it’s good all round for a club like Burnley to top the
League. You might have expected hyped sides like Man City or Watford, or big-spending
sides like Coventry or Wolves, to be up there. But it isn’t any of them. It’s
us, a team from nowhere, with a side full of nobodies, getting no credit from the media.
Presumably they resent us for spoiling what they thought would be a Keegan-Vialli show
down. Burnley, and the team in second place, Grimsby, are proving that it isn’t all
about budgets and profile, even now. You can still go a long way with a shrewd manager
backed by a board that trusts their instincts, and a team that plays together. In a way,
after playing year after year in the lower divisions, we’re showing clubs like
Rotherham what the possibilities are. And here's another statistic: of the 16 players in
the squad, 12 cost nothing.
Not that we'll get any credit for it. Take the match coverage of three
Sunday newspapers:
The Observer - West Brom v Man City (of course, Kevin Keegan's
boys) and Crystal Palace v Millwall (well, it's in London).
The Times - West Brom v Man City (again), Portsmouth v Gillingham
(huh?) and Preston v Wolves (surely if they get up to there…?).
The Independent - West Brom v Man City (anyone getting tired of
this?), Crystal Palace v Millwall (so handy for the office) and - aha, finally! - Burnley
v Rotherham. Hats off!
Of course, if just about anyone else was top…
One other gripe concerns the low attendance. For heaven's sake, this side
are top of the First Division! Get along and support them! Several of the day's gates were
higher than ours, while ours wasn't even that much above Preston's.
But really, who could be anything other than happy when they contemplate
the top of the table? Okay, so maybe it won't last, but isn't this the best way to start
the season? Aren't there 23 sides who wouldn't mind swapping places with us? We're where
everyone else wants to be. And we're there now for another week. One banana skin avoided.
Another 40 to go?
How do
you like it?