Defying flu bugs and fortified with some of the UK's finest pharmaceutical products, I made my way through the labyrinth of roads, towards Vicarage Road nestling twixt the infirmary and the allotments, which I note are surrounded by a six foot fence and three strands of barbed wire. Obviously this is to protect their turnips from the marauding hordes of starving, under nourished Northern invaders present in Watford on match days. However, I note that Aston Villa are prone to taking a vegetable or two themselves, having appointed Graham Taylor as their new manager. Funny old game football, as I am sure Watford fans were carping about our lack of respect for possibly the worst England manager ever on the day of his managerial retirement.
Taking my seat with my fellow knuckle dragging Neanderthals, I noted that Stan had made some decisive changes to the line up by pushing Kevin Ball into the back four to replace Ian Cox and picking Paul Weller to stand in for the injured Alan Moore, whilst keeping Blake on the bench. Branch had come in at left back, with Stan pushing Briscoe into midfield to replace Cook. The bright yellow seats were uncomfortable, in so far as there was no slot to put my tail through, so I had to sit on it.
The Clarets started brightly and confidently, knocking the ball about quite well, with the back four comfortably holding the threat of Gayle and Gifton-Williams, the Watford front pairing. Branchy appeared to be coping well with the young starlet Jermaine Pennant, the 18-year-old wonder kid on loan from the Arsenal, and indeed was having a good game going forward. A few corners and then eventually a clear cut chance fell to Ian Moore, thanks to Glen’s through ball. Moore was on the left side of the box and checked back on to his right to throw the chasing defender, but curled his right foot shot round the far post.
A few minutes later, in a similar position, Pennant received the ball with room to spare in the box. Checking back on to his left foot, he curled an exquisite left foot shot around Beresford from 20 yards into the far corner, leaving Marlon with no chance. An absolute peach of a goal and a real stunner, as Watford had not looked remotely threatening and Burnley had started quite well.
After another shot on target from Pennant, Stan made a decisive change, dragging off the hapless Branch; he hadn’t played badly, but nonetheless the ape next to me felt fit to shout "F**k off Branch you’re shit." You know, sometimes I think those poncey Watford fans have a point. Stan decided to bring on Blake and play with three forwards, with Glen pushed back into a midfield role on the left and Briscoe getting tight on the very tricky, dangerous and slippery Pennant.
Half time came with Watford gaining the ascendancy, and might have converted one or two half chances, not least a peach of a ball from near the corner flag which took out Mr Gloves, the last defender, but fortunately found Gifton-Williams on the far post, who headed wide.
A goal down after quite playing well, and apart from Pennant, with the opposition looking quite poor overall; it didn’t look so clever. The second half kicked off as the first had ended, with not much going on at our end as the Clarets were now kicking towards us. After 15 minutes Stan made another decisive change, re-instating Coxy for Taylor, whose last contribution was to blaze a cross to the far side of the box, finding only acres of vacant space. Meanwhile the Clarets had a cast iron stone wall penalty refused when one of the Watford players blatantly made a two handed shove on a Burnley player chasing a loose ball in the box, with the ball nowhere near either of them.
Only a few minutes later, the ref awarded a penalty at the other end for what looked like a pull back by Arthur, although it could have been a case of six of one and most probably was. Nonetheless the ref gave it and so Gayle stepped up. Slumped in my seat, it looked as if it was going to be one of those frustrating evenings when the breaks don’t go our way and despite playing well, we get licked. However, I suddenly remembered who was in goal and said to my mate next to me, "Marlon, ace penalty saver." Sure enough, Gayle struck a fairly weak looking shot and Mr Gloves made a comfortable save, getting down quick enough to even catch the ball.
Suddenly it was game on, and with Glen pushed further forward the Clarets laid siege to the Watford goal, apart from the odd break out when they managed to feed Pennant with the ball. I felt at this stage that with the impetus of the penalty save and the deflationary effect this had on Watford, we could go on and win this, and with twenty minutes to go SGL was hacked down on the edge of the penalty area 'D'. "We never score from these," my mate informed me, whereupon Briscoe stepped up and wellied a superb curving shot against the crossbar, which clipped the underside and bounced down nicely for Coxy following in to crash into the roof of the net for a rare Burnley goal. Pardon?
It was end to end stuff now, but I felt as long as we kept it away from Pennant we might get something. Just over the half way line the youngster won the ball and advanced towards the Burnley penalty area, beating three Burnley players on his way, and pulled back, only for Marlon to make another fine save from the resulting shot. A corner came over, finding one of Watford’s tall players on the far post, but generously he headed wide. After a skirmish in the Watford box Blake pulled up, and Stan sent on Maylett to partner Ian Moore. Personally I had settled for a draw and a decent performance.
However, with only two minutes of injury time, Brad and Moore found themselves two on two with Watford having pushed forward for the winner. Maylett made a strong run with the ball, having earlier gained our disapproval for running the ball out of play. "He’ll never make it," we nodded sagely. Brad had got clear of the defender and fired across the goal in the direction of Ian Moore and his marker and goalie, who went for the ball in heap. The ball squirted out and looked to be going in anyway, only for Weller to pop up and score what must be the easiest goal ever by nudging the ball over the line.
So, three points in the bag to conclude another nice day out in Watford, and to add to the three they generously donated to us earlier in the season. I note that it was Holocaust Day, or some such contrived event to patronise ethnic minorities, and we have to thank those jolly civilised types at Watford by providing such entertainment and solace for such under-privileged and clearly deprived race as ourselves. I did think giving us three points was going a bit far, but having tried to poison me at half time with the most limp dick sausage roll I have ever tasted, my feelings of guilt were assuaged. The Clarets fans made their own inevitable contribution to the day by inquiring if the ref was having some kind of sexual relationship with the Watford chairman. Elton revealed on Parky recently that he had once bought a tram in Australia after imbibing some illicit narcotic substances; one can only guess that he must have snorted a whole half way line when he bought Watford.
A quick word about Watford and their very famous manager. A number of irate fans phoned in to Mark Bright on R5 on the way back waving their hatchets, and having seen them play I can take their point. Take Pennant out of their team and we would have won this game comfortably, even though I didn’t think we played particularly well, especially in the first half when we let them run the game for the last quarter. Frankly they looked like a Graham Taylor side - lots of long ball pumped up to two big blokes - without the commitment and solid defence. Indeed, they looked to be a very soft touch at the back and Glen could have settled it earlier if he had hit the other side of the post when put clean through by a superb ball from Blake.
Anyway, why waste key strokes on that lot. Better to eulogise about the immense talent of Jermaine Pennant, a star in the making, who surely would already be in the first team at any other Premiership club. Quick, strong and with two good feet, he stood out a mile above the rest of the players on the pitch. Watch out for this name.
As for the Clarets, a much better performance, and in the second half we looked well set. A fully fit Glen makes a big difference, even though some of the end product leaves much to be desired. I find his penchant for floaty back post chips irritating to say the least, but his ability to hold up the ball deep in enemy territory is second to none, and allows the game to be played in the opponents' half.
Honourable mentions also go to Mr Gloves, with a crucial match winning penalty stop plus some other good saves, and after looking a bit shaky and slow to react on a couple of occasions in the first half he got his bearings in the second. Bally slotted in nicely at the back, and the responsibility of playing this position seems to eliminate some of the more reckless elements of his game. Weller also took the eye, with his speed of thought, tight control and good distribution. The best midfield player on view, I thought. The front line was an ever-changing permutation, but I thought that for once Taylor was a shade disappointing, and might be the one to benefit most from being taken out of the front line for a while. Blake looks good; he has quick feet, which buys him space in tight situations, and he may well be a good fill in for Glen, should he succumb to more injury problems.
So a nice evening out, Watford FC catering excepted, where it was disappointing to find the braised pheasant and petit pois off the menu, to be replaced with the usual collection of manky pastry and dog meat products. I shall have to remember to bring my own vol-au-vents and canapés next time.
UTC.
