Don't call me prophetic
Nottingham Forest 1 Burnley 1
Report by Pauline Pratley
Back in the days when a trip to Nottingham meant a visit to Meadow Lane, I used to quite like going there. More recently, though, the attraction has palled somewhat, largely due to the enduring memory of Nottingham Forest 5 Burnley 0 in October 2000.
Of course, most of the goalscorers from that fateful evening are now elsewhere. Chris Bart-Williams (two goals on the night) is now at Ipswich. Andy Johnson is with West Brom, whilst Riccardo Scimeca has been at Leicester since last summer. The only player still to be at Forest, in a sense, is Alan Rogers. He is also now a Leicester player, but set to remain on loan at the City Ground until the end of the season. Luckily (for us rather than for him) a toe injury had ruled him out of contention for tonight's game.
Still, there would likely be at least two familiar faces on show. You know who: Gareth Taylor and David Johnson. Both loved by Clarets fans, and both now set to play against us. Earlier in the week, Paddy (who couldn't make the game) and I had laughed ourselves silly at a dream I'd had about Taylor and Johnson both scoring against Burnley. (Yes, the last refuge of the condemned: gallows humour.) In reality, I didn't think any such thing would happen, as the notion was just so bizarre.
Anyway, before I could watch the game, I had to actually get to Nottingham, and then get to the ground. I was supposed to be travelling up with Woody and Paul, but a combination of poor planning and an upset stomach meant that I ended up travelling on my own. With no-one to talk to, I looked forward to spending some time reading. Some chance, as I had the misfortune to be seated near some representatives of that most dreadful species: the ‘business traveller’.
Although I tried to concentrate on my book, it was futile. There were four of them, and only one of me. Four little mobile phones were laid on the table; four poncy little bottles of water were on hand in case the executive throats got dry. (These people never drink something normal, like tea or coffee, do they? That would be too... unexecutive.) The carriage walls reverberated to the sounds of the seriously self-obsessed: "...my department... my budget... me... I... my report... myself... headhunted... my presentation... incredibly long hours... me... me... me..." Naturally, they all spoke - or rather, bellowed - at once; it wasn't a conversation, more of a competition. Although there were some funny moments (particularly when one of them phoned up several people one after the other, just to see if they'd been trying to contact him - they hadn't), by and large it was just irritating. By the time the train finally got to Nottingham, I had a thumping headache and an irrational hatred of Evian.
After checking in at the hotel, I met up with the others and we soon set off for the ground. At which point I realised that there are people more irritating than business travellers: cyclists. OK, not all cyclists - just those in Nottingham! There is something truly odd about that place, because all the cyclists we saw (and we saw loads) were riding on the pavement. Not on the road, not in the cycle lanes: on the pavement, and at speed. We saw one man hurl four-letter abuse at a group of pedestrians when they failed to see him approaching from behind and didn't get out of his way quickly enough. A young lad even cycled around a corner and straight into me! Do Nottingham's pedestrians have no rights at all? This was much worse than anything I have experienced elsewhere, central London included. As an occasional cyclist myself, I was appalled.
Truly, it was a relief to get into the ground in one piece. As I found a seat, I observed that there was no sign of Johnson, but Taylor was in the starting line-up. For Burnley, it was more or less the usual suspects, although I was pleased to see that Richard Chaplow and Neil Wood were to start the game. It's always nice to see younger players given a chance - something that hasn't really happened too much at Burnley over the past few seasons.
The first ten minutes were bizarre - my dream (nightmare?) seemed to be coming back to haunt me. In that period, Forest were all over the Burnley defence like a rash. None of our defenders could handle Taylor, and he had two great opportunities to put the home side ahead. Firstly he headed just wide of the post, and then had the ball in the back of the net (fortunately, it was ruled out for offside). We were fairly near the front of the stand, and Forest were attacking towards us. It was really odd to see Taylor in attack for another team (I'd missed the Clarets' home game against Forest, so this was the first time I'd seen him play against us). Not a nice sight, especially the way he was threatening our goal.
Somehow we weathered the early storm, and began to have a few forward runs of our own. Just before the quarter-hour mark, Ian Moore missed what seemed to be an easy chance - but at least we'd actually created one. We didn't have long to moan about his miss, though, as our next attack saw us score! Someone (Neil Wood?) had a shot, and Forest keeper Barry Roche seemed to have saved it. Then, the ball was on the ground again - and Richard Chaplow reacted quickest to put us 1-0 ahead! The away end went wild!
The next action of note saw the substitution of the injured Des Walker, who received a sympathetic hand from the away end. This was surely a blow for Forest - Walker's legs might be old, but his brain is still sharp, and you need someone like him in your team to settle things down and guide the younger players through the game.
After that, it was all Taylor, Taylor, Taylor. Goodness knows how many headers he won. Yet he didn't score, and I started to relax. Perhaps Burnley relaxed, too, because we started pushing forward again. As the half drew to a close, Ian Moore almost put us 2-0 up with a shot that just missed the crossbar.
Phew - I needed the half time break just to settle my nerves! Could we hold on?
Well, for the first part of the second half it looked as though we might be able to do just that. Our defence seemed to grow in confidence, and Taylor had less of an impact. It was clear that Forest had to change things if they were to get back into the game.
Joe Kinnear was obviously thinking along the same lines, as just after the hour mark he made a double substitution. Andy Impey (also on loan from Leicester) replaced Matthieu Louis-Jean; and, more significantly, the ineffective Nicky Barmby (dear God - how did he ever play for England?) was replaced by... David Johnson. The away end gave Johnson a generous reception, but I wonder how many Claret hearts sank at the sight of him walking out to play against us? Mine certainly did, and not just because of my ‘premonition’ - he's a class player.
Still, for a while it seemed that the Clarets would stay on top. Even a headless chicken moment from The Beast didn't let Forest through - although Jensen had raced out of his goal, leaving the net unguarded, Mo Camara raced back and put in a superb clearing header.
Then, with only ten minutes to go, it happened: Taylor finally scored. And it was a shot, too, rather than a header. One half of my premonition had come to pass. The thing that struck me most, though, was the realisation that I saw Taylor differently now that he was playing against us. When he was playing for Burnley, I'd not viewed him as a dirty player, and had frequently felt aggrieved when ‘petty’ free kicks were given against him. Now that he was playing against us, though, blind loyalty was replaced with something a little more objective. I still wouldn't call him dirty as such, but he certainly does his fair share of backing in, leaning and pushing. But that's not to say that his goal wasn't deserved - it certainly was.
The second half of my premonition came to pass - almost - shortly afterwards. The Burnley defence were still reeling from Taylor's goal when Johnson shot past Jensen and into the net. Well, my dream hadn't featured a linesman's flag, but I was ridiculously grateful to see the assistant's arm go up to signal offside. It was hard to tell from where we were, but the noise from the home fans suggested that perhaps the decision had not been correct.
After that, the tension in the away end was almost unbearable. I was looking at my watch every few seconds, though I barely registered the time. Incredibly, Johnson was to come close twice again. First he hit the bar, and then hit a relatively weak effort straight at Jensen. Any neutrals must have been loving the excitement, but I felt sick with nerves. It would be awful to throw it away at this late stage.
A late flurry from Little settled the away end's stomachs, and then it was all over. 1-1: in my mind, a fair result, though I imagine that Forest probably felt they'd deserved to win.
Later, I found out that Johnson's disallowed goal had indeed been valid. I'm thinking about going into business as a clairvoyant! As to the more pressing issue of whether Burnley will stay up, I'm not making any predictions, but I think we will - just. A good result against Franchise FC on Saturday, and things should look a whole lot better. Just keep Taylor and Johnson well away from us.
Burnley: Jensen, West, Branch, May, Camara, Little, Grant (McGregor, 78), Chaplow, Wood (Weller, 76), Blake, Ian Moore.
Subs not used: Abbey, Scott, Townsend.
Scorers: (Forest) Golden Bonce 80 / (Burnley) Chaplow 15.
Referee: R Olivier (Sutton Coldfield): 6/10. Made some very odd decisions. Not biased, just poor.
Attendance: A most impressive 26,885.
Pauline's Man of the Match: Ian Moore - never stopped working.
As with all articles on the site, the views expressed in the match reports section are those of the individual contributor, and do not necessarily reflect the view of the Burnley FC London Supporters' Club.
