End of a Century
Burnley 3 Oxford 2, 28 December
1999
Firmo
So, our week's
holiday in the County Palatine of Lancashire was not without its rewards after all. Not
that it wasn't jolly nice to see the family, eat and drink heavily and slip into the
slower rhythms of Northern life. But after the debacle that was Bury, and three minutes
into this game, we were staring straight at the previously unthinkable: one visit, two
games, two defeats. The season looked like it might be sliding away from us.
It would have been typical old school Burnley to
have sullied a lovely day with a poor performance. For, perhaps more than the scoreline or
Andy Payton's second Clarets hat trick, this game will be remembered as the day that the
greatest of the Prodigal Sons returned to his rightful place in the sun at Turf Moor. It's
likely that Burnley will never again have a player as skilled as Jimmy McIlroy; it is to
be hoped that we never again treat a legend so shabbily. This was a homecoming too long in
coming. Before the game, most of the 1960 Championship side, minus the unwell Gordon
Harris and the still sulking Jimmy Adamson, took the pitch and the applause. Then came the
overdue moment: McIlroy opened the stand that bears his name. It was made all the more
moving by the fact that he took the microphone and made a short speech. This was a lovely
touch. Self-deprecating to the last, Jimmy Mac started by saying that this was the first
time an Irishman had been lost for words. At every pause he was cheered. He was cheered
when he said the stand would, in his eyes, always be the Champions' Stand, dedicated to
all that team. He was applauded when he said how glad he was just to be here after a
health scare had postponed this presentation earlier in the season. And he was roared when
he told us that, this time next year, we should be supporters of a first division team.
Give 'em what they want, Jimmy. This was good crowd pleasing stuff. It also marked the
culmination of a process of reconciliation between club and player. It was a remarkable
occasion, a lump in throat and tears in eyes moment, and it was a privilege to be there.
There aren't many things that drag us from the pub prematurely, but like the many
thousands of others who'd made the effort to come early, I was glad that I'd done it.
Also appreciated were the long service
presentations at half time, particularly those to Margaret Potts and Hilda Lord. All this
was long overdue, and in the case of Harry Potts, that was a shame. It begged the question
of why these simple and touching events had been so many years in coming. The old regime
disliked the past, fearing that the present and future couldn't really compete. But they
failed to realise that there is a difference between living in the past and properly
acknowledging it and the debt we owe it. They never understood that if you want the fans
to keep supporting you, it helps if sometimes you give them what they want. They didn't
grasp that, in keeping the flame alive, you emphasise the tradition and heritage that make
Burnley a club distinct from the dross amidst which it currently finds itself and give
people a reason for sticking with it when times are thin. And of course, from a commercial
perspective, heritage sells. Just look at the take up for the new video. The club marketed
this one more or less right. They encouraged people to turn up early, and thus spend more
of their money at the club, and they helped put an extra 5,000 on the last home gate. Why
have we had to wait so long for this kind of initiative? Would this ever have happened
under Teasdale?
The only thing I could find to criticise is
Barry Kilby's appalling shaggy brown coat which he wore on the pitch. Perhaps it was a
Christmas present and he felt obliged to wear it.
To the game. We were relieved to see Thomas back
to fill the void left at Bury, and pleased to see that Armstrong was out, although I guess
this was due to flu rather than a sudden rush of clarity on Ternent's part. Slightly
nervous about Branch at leftback. This is probably his least harmful position, but we do
have Cowan and Smith available.
It was clear from the start that several players
were still trying to shake off the flu. Thomas looked shagged out after about five
minutes. By that time we were a goal down, and the party atmosphere was threatening to
deflate. It was a soft goal to concede. Oxford played a ball over Davis' head, Thomas
failed to cut it out and it took a good shot to finish the move off. From Oxford's point
of view, this was a good goal, but only lousy defending allowed them the opportunity.
Thankfully, this Burnley side is a bit tougher
than some previous versions, and the fact that we had 87 minutes to turn it round meant we
didn't lose heart. We started knocking the ball around quite well. Thomas tore forward to
join the attacks. It's the type of player he is. If he feels responsible for something he
tries to make amends. In midfield, Cook once or twice played balls of accuracy and vision
to wrong-foot the Oxford defence. Andy Cooke worked as hard as we expect, but it is once
again open season on Cooke, and defenders can do whatever they wish to stop him. He was
chopped down time and again. Thankfully, we also had Glen Little, again as so often this
season at the heart of everything good about our play. Oxford never got to grips with him.
He was a constant menace. He still doesn't get the ball enough, and he still doesn't
finish off enough of those bewildering runs with a ball of the right quality, but of
course, this means we ought to give him more of the ball and not less of it. It would also
help to play him in his best position, on the right.
The reason Little plays on the left is so John
Mullin can play on the right. Unfortunately, it does not work. There are some players in
the team who appear undroppable, and Mullin is one. He is rarely effective, and seldom
produces a telling contribution. Many London Clarets will remember seeing Burnley Youth
beat Wimbledon Youth by the odd goal in seven at Plough Lane in 1994. John Mullin looked
head and shoulders above every player on the pitch, a class apart from Wimbledon lads who
have now gone on to become premier league players. His career to date tells a story of
potential agonisingly unrealised. I don't know what went wrong, but it isn't working, and
other players would not have been given so many chances, or treated so tolerantly by the
crowd.
I was glad that we got a penalty from his run in
the box because that represented the best we were likely to get from it. Some Oxford
player chopped him and the referee had no option but to award a clear penalty. I am
grateful to my brother for this information, as I had ambled off in search of fodder at
this point, and had to slap some random money on the counter and hasten to the nearest
vomitory to watch Payton calmly sticking the penalty away into his left hand corner.
And that was that, early scare over and we would
now go on to win it. Burnley were easily the better side, and I found it hard to believe
that Oxford were a first division team last season. Lots more good play failed to produce
another goal this side of half time, but we cheered them off confident of the win. Plus we
had an extraordinarily beautiful sky to look at over the Bob Lord Stand whenever things
got dull. A large and raggedly round cloud formation with a huge hole in the middle hung
over the moors, starting orange then turning red before fading to grey then black as the
light faded and the cold set in.
I pulled my new Christmas present to myself
Clarets hat down hard over my ears, put my Claret and Blue gloves on and settled down for
a second half that we would have to be pretty foolish not to win. One surprise was that
Cook went off. Assume it was injury or flu. Weller came on, taking another important step
on the road to recovering his career, and building on the good substitute performance he
put in at Bury. He went to the right, Mullin moving into the middle.
Out of nowhere, Oxford grabbed a goal and the
lead for the second time. It was a truly rotten goal to concede. Giving any player a free
header from a corner is unforgivable and really ought to be punished. To seal it, Crichton
sprinted from his line and aimed a limp-wristed punch at it. Missed. The ball was in.
Oxford had had maybe three attacks, and scored
from two of them. What happened to the defence which was the tightest in the league?
Partly, Thomas was struggling with the flu. Then there is the odd case of Davis, currently
a shadow of the majestic player we know him to be, looking sluggish and flat footed in
recent weeks. I try not to think too hard of those games we made him play last season
patched up when he needed a hernia operation. He doesn't seem to be the same since. Along
with that, we all know that Crichton is a run of the mill goalkeeper who will occasionally
make a bad mistake, as he did here. Mostly okay, every so often he drops a clanger. Sides
chasing promotion need players better than mostly okay.
Frustration crept in amongst the faithful. It
had seemed silly that we might not win it. It would have been a scandal to lose it. Micky
Mellon's brainless long range shots that missed by miles grew more irritating with each
one. Still getting picked, Micky? See John Mullin, above. Meanwhile, while not being privy
to the Oxford manager's teamtalk, I couldn't help but wonder if the words 'stop Glen
Little' had featured at all. He was kicked every time he got it. Remember when they
changed the rules to encourage attacking play? No, neither do most referees.
West, for the second game running a liability
and clearly someone in need of basic lessons on how to pass the ball, was replaced by
Jepson. Jepson went straight up front to form a three man attack and we started pounding
Oxford. Everyone forward at every opportunity. We had a stack of half chances, got the
ball in the box plenty of times but couldn't find the final shot.
Final confirmation that we were really going for
this came when Paul Smith was brought on for Graham Branch. Applause turned to a roar when
Smith pointed Little towards the right wing. Our best player was now playing in his best
position. Glad to know we're not the only ones who want this.
With Weller moved up behind the three strikers,
two wingers and only two defenders, it's fair to say that we were pulling all the stops
out.
It worked. Our equaliser came from a classic
move. Little took the ball down the right wing, caught everyone out by reversing the ball
to Weller, who underlined his rediscovered promise by playing a gem of a cross to Payton,
stood in a crowd close to goal. He did his job and got to it first, pounced on it, put it
away.
Settle for one point? Now we wanted three! We
continued to pour forward. Little sent over any number of tempting balls. Jepson could
have finished it. Then a Little cross was nodded close to goal by Thomas - exactly - and
Payton stuck out a lethal foot from a ruck of players to finish a fine predatory hat
trick. This was Payton at his best, a striker prepared to play the odds. Of course, in the
first game of the century at Turf Moor, it would probably have been recorded as a
'scrimmage'. Payton was immediately handed man of the match as the injury time board was
held up. Of course, it should have been Little, but after last season I suppose Glen's
used to that.
If you can't count, this was Burnley's last game
of the alleged millennium. It was certainly the last of the century. Don't know if that
means anything as all dates are arbitrary. I can't see further than the end of this
season. But even by that measure, this was an important result. After Bury, nothing less
than a win would do, and we got it, just. It was a stupid and entertaining game, and
although we were easily better, the first time we took the lead was in the 89th
minute. It was a sweet day, too. Jimmy McIlroy came home, and for the first time in ages
the club looks at ease with its history these days. That will be something to remember as
we go with Burnley into the third century. History started in 1882, after all.
Team:
Crichton, West (Jepson 57), Branch (Smith 75), Davis, Thomas, Mellon, Cook (Weller 46),
Little, Mullin, Cooke, Payton. Subs not used: Johnrose and Cowan.
London Clarets Man of the
Match: (1) Andy Payton, (2) Glen Little.
The away game
