I hate Wolves. I’ve been watching Burnley for over
thirty years and I have yet to see them beat this lot. My best returns have been two
measly nil-all draws, both in the same season, and that was almost twenty-five years ago.
As much as I reminded myself, a tad too desperately, that there had to be a reverse flip
of the coin sooner rather than later, I couldn’t shake off the Nasser Hussain
complex. Sure enough, as I strolled downhill from the town centre that Molineux sinking
feeling took its all too familiar grip. Inside the ground, I watched the Wolves players'
warming up routine with morbid resignation. They were setting up sharp shooting
opportunities on the back of slick wall passes. Time and time again they found goal with
ferocious shots. There was no doubt they were up for this game in a big way. You could
sense their frustration in blowing a strong position at the top (just as we had done
before them). They seemed focused and determined to exact retribution. And how they made
us pay.
After managing a couple of inept sorties, we spent most of the first half reeling under
incessant onslaughts on our goal. Our 3-5-2 formation, which had served us so well against
Palace, was shredded by Wolves’ pace, strength and movement. Prompted by Rae’s
astute distribution, and fired by Branch and Blake’s powerful running, Newton and
Kennedy stretched our back line and forced Weller and Briscoe, our wingbacks, into frantic
defence. Once he had adjusted his radar, Kennedy’s whipped crosses had our central
defenders at sixes and sevens. NTG was uncertain how to handle these, and he was fortunate
that his weak punching wasn’t punished earlier. Against this assault we could only
manage a popgun attack. Cook and Briscoe’s crosses were high and looping and picked
off with ease by keeper Oakes and the powerful centre backs, Lescot and Butler. In fact, I
was surprised David Jones didn’t bring on recliners for his defence. They seemed to
be playing the out-of-sorts Taylor and the industrious but ineffective Moore in carpet
slippers.
A goal had to come. I was surprised to note that only ten minutes had elapsed. We had
seemed to be on the rack for ages. Kennedy’s right wing cross clipped the top of the
luckless Taylor’s head and found the far corner with NTG utterly beaten. Ten minutes
later a Paul Butler cross was headed on by former Blackburn striker Nathan Blake and Alex
Rae, who was unmarked inside the box, scored with a spectacular overhead kick. Arguably,
NTG should have advanced quicker, but he seemed like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
This prompted Glen Little’s return in place of Cox. I thought it was tactical, but
apparently Cox had sustained an Achilles injury. At least we then started to put something
together, but we managed just one scoring opportunity before the break. Unfortunately,
Taylor’s firm header failed to find the target from Little’s pacy cross. Wolves
then sealed the game five minutes before half-time when Colin Cameron’s powerful
25-yard free-kick looped off Paul Cook and dropped into the right hand corner.
Immediately, the joyful Wolves fans congratulated their former favourite on his true
loyalties. Only Davis and Little came out of this first half nightmare with credit.
Despite a couple more narrow squeaks, Burnley made a much better fist of the second
half. West was introduced instead of the injured Cook and he and Little found space and
good possession on the right flank, finally compelling the Wolves’ defenders to earn
their wages. Reverting to 4-4-2 Grant and Davis pinged the ball around to good effect but
Burnley couldn’t convert good pressure into goals. Moore, Taylor, Ball and Armstrong
all had good chances to reduce the deficit, but it was clearly just another Wolves day
afternoon.
