Can it get any worse?
Burnley 0 Gillingham 5, 27th February 1999
Hego
As a general rule I wouldn’t
usually bother with this game, as the Gills are firmly locked into the Heagin memory banks
in the same paint drying category as Chesterfield. I must admit that with a very strong
defence and Asaba and Taylor up front they are beginning to look a very decent team.
Suggest the manager Pulis is more than just a competent unknown. However, Mater had
recently decamped back to Chez Heagin (Nelson Branch) from hospital, and a visit was in
order. This was to be a fateful decision.
As soon as Junior Hego and I hit a major traffic
jam north of Birmingham (of which more later), we should have turned back. The omens were
not good. Eventually, after checking the status of the sickly aged parent, repaired to the
Sparrow for the very necessary pint of Moorhouse's together with no less than three Hegos.
A very rare occurrence this and again a departure from the norm. Did the augur foresee the
events that would unfold? Aside from being a fine hostelry and the meeting place for
London Clarets for home games, the Sparrow is usually a good barometer of the feelings of
your average Claret towards their team. I could find no solace here. A draw was to be
regarded as a good result. What have we come to when the best we can hope for is a draw
against the Priestfield nightmares?
To the game, leaving two Hegos behind to spend
their money on ale rather than the Turf, sound decision as it turned out. Reasonable
sprinkling of Clarets at the game, and all of 150, at best, Gills fans. Weather fair,
pitch firm and plenty of room on the Longside (oops Sanderson Ford Stand, Freudian slip).
No excuse for not seeing a good game of football.
Gills pretty much at full strength, Clarets as
strong as could be expected with injuries, suspensions and sackings. Terry Heilbron
refereeing. Again negative vibes.
Strangely, given the 4-0 half time scoreline,
Clarets started quite brightly. Lenny Johnrose had a reasonable early shot, and given the
circumstances had a reasonable first 45. The injured (?) Taylor was about to have his say
despite a chronic Hernia problem. The first came on 14 minutes. As the Claret defence
retreated and the midfield challenge (!) evaporated, big T hit a speculative 25 yarder
into the corner of the net. My written notes for the next two goals simply read ‘27
and 40 minutes, Moore, totally crap defending’. Feeble back header, pathetic
challenge, take your pick. How on earth this man did not join the Howey / Blatherwick
exodus, I do not know.
At this point, as one would expect, the three
goal rule applies, regardless of the fact that I had spent a little over 40 minutes in the
ground. Double figures was looming on the horizon in more ways than one, given the
forthcoming Man City game for which I had forked out for a ticket. Yet another bad
decision. Left Junior Hego in the seats for a quick ablution, and returned to ask same
whether he wanted a dog burger prior to departure, whence he indicated that I should turn
around towards the Burnley goal just in time to see Taylor smash home the fourth from the
penalty spot. Half time whistle.
Saw the penalty (43 mins) and Taylor's excellent
near post header for his fifth (48 mins) on Sky. Taylor did have an excellent game, but oh
dear. We cannot even blame lack of experience. No Scott or Heywood at the back, just solid
no nonsense so called professionals. This performance (or lack of it) was a disgrace to
the Claret shirt. The gate money should have been immediately refunded, and Moore et al
sent to the knackers yard. Personally feel that Ternent was wrong to send the players back
out at half time. He should have made the back four face the corners of the dressing room
just like mother used to do to me when I was naughty and send the rest home to think about
it. Any eleven Clarets from the crowd could have finished off the second half.
Left the ground feeling humiliated, angry,
fearful for the future, cheated, far too sober, sad, a whole panoply of emotions. I
thought briefly about the Hereford 6-0 home hammering in the bad old days, but it
wasn’t quite as bad as this, as we had rubbish Sunday park standard players then, and
I expected nothing from them. Where is the pride, and the professional footballers' nous?
Apparently the aforesaid Pulis has us in the top six for next season. Second half
apparently was fairly boring, as the Gills endeavoured to keep a clean sheet, only livened
up by the excellent Little, as you would expect. Interestingly the Gills, only had five
shots on target, the same as the Clarets, and half as many corners and free kicks.
Anyway, the day deteriorated from there as you
may expect. Junior Hego badly twisted his ankle running out of the ground, useful as he
was to drive us home on the Sunday. The Sparrow had some Clarets from the Midlands already
there who had been delayed due to the M6 traffic problems, arrived late and had decided
not to pay to see the second half. If only! Later in the evening badly damaged my wrist
(that’s another story) to the extent that driving is even now a problem, but at least
said injury did prevent me from driving up for the City game. Well at least one very small
glint of a silver lining. It can’t get worse, can it?
Team (allegedly):
Admirable, Pickering, Moore (Jepson 46), Armstrong, Reid, Branch, Mellon, Brass (Little
46), Johnrose, Payton, Cooke. SNU: Morgan.
The away game
