Being exiled in the Birmingham area for the last 30 years, I always quite enjoy a trip to Walsall. It’s a small, friendly club, surrounded by bigger, wealthier, even Premiership rivals (ring any bells?) . It has a loyal, local following, and the club and supporters know their place in life. What’s more, it has a relatively new ground. If you ever went to the old Fellowes Park, you’ll agree that the Bescot is a vast improvement; it’s clean, well-maintained, and although compact, amply big enough for nearly every fixture they care to host. They sell balti pies, it’s an easy place to get to, and more importantly, away from when you’ve got beat. I can’t think of another ground where when you chuck away your crisp packet it lands in the outside lane of the M6. On Tuesday, well into March, it also happened to have an excellent playing surface.
The night was calm but cold and Burnley took to the pitch minus the concussed Little, replaced by Stretch Armstrong, and still not a starting berth for Most Expensive Signing Ever, Robbie Blake. If he’s not crocked, he must wonder what on earth’s going on. NTG appeared for the first time since Cheltenham, on the bench, wrapped in what looked like five sleeping bags – bet it’s a bit warmer in Athens.
Referee tonight was the unforgettable Paul 'touch me and I’ll fall over' Alcock, who actually didn’t have too bad a game, apart from the favourite ref’s trick of penalising away side time-wasting without reciprocating for the home team.
The Clarets opened brightly, having lots of possession and playing snappy passing football. Ian Moore beavered away, chasing down the opposition, and he nearly succeeded in creating an opener when, having shoved a Walsall defender in the back (un-noticed by the officials), he crossed, only for it all to come to nothing. We were the better side, but as ever since Christmas, never looked like hitting the onion-sack. The forward line (Gareth Taylor actually) was hopelessly shot-shy, preferring to pass to anyone, opposition included, in any area of the field. In short, the side is so lacking in confidence, no one will take the responsibility to try anything even slightly adventurous, with the result that all attacks founder on the rock of total predictability.
It actually took Walsall 20 minutes to realise this, but once they had, you could see the nerves come into play in the Clarets’ defence. The Legend looked like a player who had been out months, and alongside a twitchy, jittery Arthur (who looks half the player he was in the autumn) did not instill confidence in anyone, either on the pitch or in the stands. Walsall had more and more possession and Marcelo, a class player on loan from Birmingham, started to worry us. However, entertaining it was not, and after a tepid, daisy-cutting scuffer (reminiscent of one of my golf shots) from Taylor which eventually dribbled into the keeper’s hands, Alcock blew for half time and balti pies all round.
The half-time proceedings matched the football for spiced-up entertainment, including a droll PA announcer who upon congratulating a local eight year old on the occasion of his birthday exclaimed, "Sorry we haven’t got the music you wanted, so we’ll play this," and continued the heretofore interrupted 20 minute version of 'Handbags and Gladrags'.
Back to the football, and on came a gloved Cook to replace Stretch. Burnley nearly warmed the cockles with a quick succession of corners, again all without real threat, when suddenly play switched to the Clarets’ half. A lumped-forward boot out of defence which should have been put into Row C (the ground ain’t big enough to have a Row Z) saw Walsall force a corner.
As it came in, Marlene flapped and somehow (it was difficult to see from the other end) it ended up in the net.
Cue usual reactions: leading team – a yard faster, more zip, slick passing, etc. etc.; losing team – much fist pumping from senior players (Davis, Ball), bared teeth, more panic, and more aimless punts forward. Walsall – second bottom, remember – looked like the promotion chasers, whilst we were left shadow chasing. They never looked in any danger. The Burnley fans tried hard to show how loyal and supportive they can be away from the Turf, trying half-heartedly to set up an 'ST’s Claret and Blue Army' chant without ever believing it would have any impact.
Maylett replaced the indolent Weller (whatever happened to the Weller who ran the game at Crewe?), Marlene got booked for dissent, or possibly time wasting, or both, and Cox came on for West. No matter, nothing really changed. Our hopes were raised when Holdsworth’s weak headed backpass was intercepted by Moore (it came to nowt) and Taylor’s header grazed the post, but was never going in. It was all depressing stuff, though. As the clock ran down, the Walsall defence started taking the p. by the corner flag, ably assisted by Mr Alcock, who was now in 'isn’t it nice to be pals with the home fans' mode. The whistle went, to the relief of one and all present, albeit for different reasons.
What’s gone wrong, we all ask. The true answer is: not much. It’s just that the barrow loads of good luck we had before Christmas have dried up and evened things out. Ian Moore is a case in point. A harder worker, who gives his utmost every game, you could not wish to find. Fast, reasonably skillful and a good team man he is; goal scorer he ain’t. Look at his record, before us and with us. Right now, things aren’t going for him. Far from feeding off target man Taylor and ramming home his knock-downs, he seems either to get in the way or, more annoying, appears to think his role is somewhere on the right of midfield. Either way it’s not working.
The players need support, encouragement and patience; the problem is the fans are running out of all three and games are running out on the fixture list.
They are the same players that put us seven points clear in December; the same that is, apart from a fit Glen Little. Can one man make such a difference? I don’t know, but let’s hope that when his contract extension was negotiated they omitted the 'Glen and his agent will listen to offers if Burnley FC fail to make the Premiership' clause.
Team:
Beresford, West (Cox 75), Briscoe, Davis, Gnohere, Ball, Weller (Maylett 58), Armstrong (Cook 46),
A Moore, I Moore, Taylor. Subs not used: Blake and Michopoulos.
Scorer: Marcelo (53).
Crowd: 5,611.
Referee: Paul bloody Alcock again.
