Devine intervention
Burnley 1 High Wycombe 0, 4th
December 1999
THJ
A raw, windy day at Turf Moor saw the Clarets maintain their push for
promotion courtesy of a missed penalty from Wycombe striker Devine and a late
Smash-and-Grab effort from goal-ace Andrew Payton.
Burnley lined up (4-4-2):
Crichton, West, Armstrong, Davis, Thomas, Mellon, Cook,
Little, Mullin, Payton, Cooke.
A stubborn first half defensive display by the visitors saw Burnley squander several
opportunities to take the lead, while the Chairboys came close with a couple of useful
breakaways. An ill-tempered period in the middle of the half resulted in three bookings
and a rash of niggly fouls.
(Steps out of mail on Sunday Mode... do you know, there are folk who make a good living
out of churning out stuff like this, the newspaper equivalent of the digestive biscuit)
"What did that guy on the radio mean, 'it's Brass Monkeys', Dad," queried my son
as we crawled through a blizzard at Deerplay.
"Means it's very cold, Son."
"Yeh, but why 'Brass Monkeys'?"
When sons approaching teenage talk like this, you know they know the answer already and
are seeking to wreak maximum embarrassment. Be direct. Attack.
"It means that its cold enough to freeze the balls of a Brass Monkey, son. Y'know,
like those three little ones on top of the telly your Gran left us with their hands over
their ears, eyes and mouth."
"Then why don't they put their hands over their... um, err..." (he couldn't say
it, I had won).
"Testicles, Son."
"What are those, Dad?"
There was a period of silence and profound thought as we drove down into the town. Manhood
is beckoning.
Again the atmosphere was quiet. No pre-match entertainment, no cheerleaders or anything.
Nowt. Still, a respectable 9.1k filled the ground and gave the lads bright greeting as the
clouds scudded over to the South East.
Burnley seemed a bit lethargic at first, nothing like the Wigan Blitz we had been
expecting. Mullin, Cook and Cooke all seemed below par and the lads failed to take
advantage of a fairly free rein in midfield. Some brilliant passing and lovely switches of
the ball to the wing by Burnley, but somehow a lack of fire around the edge of the box and
very little penetration. Davis came close with a fine run an shot which shaved the outside
of the right hand post, and Payton scooped a shot over the top which he would have buried
on another day. Glen Little found some room on the left to bang over some good centres,
but a well-organised Wycombe defence, strengthened by the presence of Gary Ablett, held
firm and won most of the aerial stuff.
A lot of niggly stuff and falling about ensued in the middle of the half and the ref (who
had a pretty poor match) was getting a lot of stick from crowd and players alike. He was
one of those who gave a daft decision one way then had to give daft one the other way soon
afterwards to balance the game up. Finally he snapped and booked one of the Wycombe
players, presumably for saying something, then booked Armstrong soon afterwards just to
show he wasn't biased.
Some awful fouls went unpunished and Burnley could have had a couple of penalties,
easy. Mitchell Thomas was held in the area (which area, you might ask?) and both Cook and
Payton were bundled firmly off the ball in suspicious circumstances. Burnley were allowed
to dominate by a Wycombe side intent on going home with a point at all costs. Eight good
goal attempts in the first half came to nought, the only excitement at our end being some
sweeper-like forays by Paul Crichton, one of which was to get
him in bother later.
Half time arrived with a welcome pie and hot drink. Thankfully, the crowd stayed positive
and those who sometimes jeer at a goalless first half kept silent. The CHANTING is no
better and I doubt if it will improve on its own. The Jimmy McIlroy Stand is like a
morgue, full of respectable dads showing their kids a good example. Away in the Sanitary
Fittings Stand a group of more daring older teens and young blokes were trying desperately
to get something going, but to very little effect.
Second half, and Wycombe came at Burnley with more spirit, forcing a couple of saves from
Crichton and running well in midfield. Burnley tried hard, but the packed numbers and
mobile covering of the Wycombe Lads cancelled out most of their efforts.
I have to day that I'm not keen on playing Little and Mullin so wide, pretty much like a
pair of wingers. Getting the ball out quickly is not easy, and Burnley were often a bit
short in numbers in the middle. Mellon had a decent match, Cook was brilliant at times but
seemed a bit lethargic and reluctant to scrap. The result was that the wide men were
starved of the ball because there was no-one to win it for them. Most of the constructive
stuff came via the centre backs and fullbacks down the flanks, which Wycombe could get men
over to cover. Burnley need another option down the middle when space opens up there.
Branch came on for the uncertain-looking Mullin and played pretty well down the left.
Cookie had a couple of good chances (congratulated by Vinnicombe on one occasion) and
Payton scampered about as usual causing problems wherever he went.
Anyhow, Burnley continued to push up and looked pretty secure except on the occasions
when Wycombe played a long ball over the top. One such sent Baird scampering
towards the left corner of the Burnley penalty area and Crichton, presumably inspired by
his success as a 'libero' in the first half, decided to meet the challenge. A Burnley
Defender, Crichton and Baird went down in a heap. Baird stayed down the ref pointed to the
spot.
Immediately a troupe of Wycombe players chased the ref demanding a
red card. (Huh!)
A collective groan of resignation spread through the crows as Devine stepped up. Mid-table
obscurity stared us in the face. Devine blasts. Crichton dives the right way and the shot
clunks firmly into the base of
the right-hand post.
"There is a God after all!" remarks the guy next to me.
"And he wears Claret and Blue!" joins in another.
After this, the Burnley faithful yell like banshees. Stan looks up and smiles as if to say
'Where have you lot been all afternoon?'
Straightaway, Payton darts into the box and is hauled back, then pushed over.
"Penalty!" we yell. But no, they missed theirs so we're not
getting one.
By Now Jeppo is on for West, smiling, laughing winding everyone up and...
winning high balls in the box! Yes!
Burnley raid again and again. The born-again bloke next to me is glum. "We have to
win these... we can't play like this and expect... not much hope for..."
He breaks off as Andy Payton latches onto
the dregs of a free kick and swivels left-footed at the far post. Whop, the ball runs
through the goalie's legs and into the opposite corner. No one moves. Then Cheers,
screams , laughing, jumping, screaming.
"Eeee, Ah spoke te soon, thank God!" says my new friend.
Happy Christmas, everyone.
Stan shuts up shop with Johnrose on for Cook and Burnley play some of their best stuff in
the last ten.
We go home happy. Workmanlike but not outstanding against at decent mid-table bunch. Just
need that bit of strength and aerial power up front and an extra hardman in midfield.
The night is dark as we glide over the snow-covered moors. Egg, chips and a warm fire
greet us in Homely Stacksteads. I doze and flick to teletext. Tim quietly picks up the
brass monkeys and sneaks a look underneath.
Team: Crichton, West
(Jepson 66), Armstrong, Davis, Thomas, Mellon, Cook, Little, Mullin (Branch 57), Payton,
Cooke (Johnrose 78). Subs not used: Brass and Lee.
London Clarets Man of the
Match: (1) Andy Payton, (2) Steve Davis, (3) Mitchell Thomas.
The away game
