Does the season start now?

Last updated : 11 February 2010 By Dave Thomas
Anfield - just like being in church


As the dust settled, and no-one thought there was any disgrace in the defeat at Chelsea, there was in fact disquiet in some quarters at the tame manner of the 4 - 0 defeat at Liverpool and there were the first whisperings from a few that changes to both team and tactics were needed. But then the majority of people clung to the view that the six points won against Everton and Manchester United were bonus points and that defeats were inevitable anyway at Stamford Bridge and Anfield.

If the limp display at Anfield was a talking point, then so too was the church-like atmosphere around the three home sides of the ground for much of the game. Anfield is one of the great temples of football and probably every Burnley supporter there had arrived expecting to take part in a festival of sound and noise. They did; but only at their own end. The Kop waved its flags and sang "And you'll never walk alone," just once before the game started. It was impressive but from then on they were as quiet as mice.

All of us expected their support to be both awesome and awe-inspiring. It was, in short, non-existent except on the four occasions that Liverpool scored. Even then it was short-lived. Was this because Burnley offered only token opposition? Did this mean there was no need for passion and crowd involvement? Was it simply vocal apathy? Maybe it was the hot sun sending them all to sleep. Whatever it was, this was not the Anfield cauldron we were all expecting. Perhaps we mistakenly think that what we see and hear on TV on the great European nights at Anfield, is in fact the norm. Once inside the ground what struck me was how much smaller it seemed than on the telly.

"The new squad ruling will suit Blackburn and Burnley," said the Lancashire Telegraph. Plans were announced by the Premier League to restrict clubs to just 25 players (plus youth players) with eight of them needing to have been registered with an English or Welsh club for at least three seasons between the ages of 16 and 21. Of course this benefits clubs like Burnley who are up against teams who can (or could) nip out and buy an overseas player off the shelf as and when needed. A club like Arsenal would have few worries. A club like Manchester City would have plenty.

The game against Sunderland was seen as the start of the season proper when games would come along that on paper were winnable and less demanding. Not a pundit or ex footballer/TV expert in the land hadn't sympathised with that five-game introduction to the world of the Premier League. But with four games out of the next six at home, there was the hope, and almost assumption, that Turf Moor would remain the fortress and the run of eight home games without conceding a goal would continue. October would be the key month, was the general agreement, when there would be three home games. From August 22nd to September 19th without a home game; it was a long stretch.

Prior to the game the media focussed attention on the link between Burnley and Sunderland manager Steve Bruce. Bruce remembered being a teenager at Turf Moor in the 70s, sweeping the terraces, cleaning out dressing rooms and mopping floors. In those days he was just a skinny, undersized kid and manager Joe Brown let him go. Ironically it was the same Joe Brown, later at Old Trafford, who had him back.

Much too was made again of the tiny, primitive Turf Moor dressing rooms where Bruce wondered if some of them might have to change in the corridor. They were allegedly criticised by Alex Ferguson after Man U had lost 0 - 1. Bruce reminisced about them remarking that if there were dirty marks on the walls they weren't left there by him. Being rejected as a 15 year old is something he says he has never forgotten. As well we know he went on to become an outstanding centre-back at Old Trafford under Alex Ferguson.

The Yorkshire Evening Post 'expert' Andy Taylor wrote one of the bitterest tirades about Burnley prior to the game, possibly ever written. "I still believe time will show the Lancashire side is one of the worst equipped ever to set foot in the top flight. In every department too - with mediocre written all over a defence that plant themselves like trees, a midfield that spends long periods chasing shadows, and a forward line that does the finest rabbit-in-headlights impressions this side of Watership Down."

Ironically, the last Sunderland visit here, in the reign of Steve Cotterill, ended in a 2 - 2 draw. 2 - 0 up with just ten minutes to go, Cotterill, ignoring the old maxim if it ain't broke don't fix it, changed two players and went on the backfoot. In those remaining few minutes Sunderland scored twice. For Sunderland it was the start of a run of results that took them to promotion. For Burnley it was the start of the longest run without a win in the club's history. The story goes that Steve Cotterill would have been dismissed during that period but Burnley simply couldn't afford the compensation pay-off necessary at that time. Football works in funny ways. Had he been dismissed then, it is unlikely that Owen Coyle would have been appointed as manager and in all probability we would therefore still be in the Championship… and undoubtedly broke. It's a funny owld game.

Hey this is the litmus test I said to a pal before the Sunderland game. This is a bread and butter game. Win this and it shows we can compete against the teams below the top four. Lose it and quite simply, we can't, and gloom and doom beckons. But this was a game that was won, and by the time the game ended, in some style.

A number of things stood out. Alexander had his hair cut for the first time in several years. Gudjonsson's 1910-style shorts grow longer by the game. Soon they will be down to his ankles. This was Burnley's ninth consecutive home win. The goal conceded was the first at home since March. And this was Coyle's 100th game in charge.

The first half was timid and unconvincing despite taking the lead with a penalty. But after the equaliser went in the signs were there that things were not working. Two substitutions swung the game. Eagles for the out of position (again) Fletcher and Nugent for Paterson, were key changes and from then on they as good as ran the show.

Nugent's home debut was stunning with two wonderful goals, the first a classic centre forward header from a lovely cross from Wade Elliott and a superb build-up. And the second, a quick control of the ball, a swivel and a turn and a lashing shot into the far corner from just inside the area. Both goals were text-book stuff.

The withdrawal of Fletcher from his yet-again ineffective wide right position must surely have convinced Coyle that this was one feature of team selection to consign to the dustbin. Burnley's second goal was the result of wing play and an old-fashioned centre-forward's bullet header. Yet, in games prior to this, Coyle had abandoned his oft-stated delight in playing with wingers. Fletcher and Blake are not wingers and once Eagles came on there was purpose and menace down the right flank.

This was a convincing win by the time the game ended with Sunderland reduced to rags and Burnley rampant. Whatever colour litmus paper is supposed to turn, today it turned the right colour. Bruce expressed disappointment at the defeat; why, is difficult to understand, Jensen had little to do other than a couple of routine stops. (And memo to Andy Taylor of the YEP: What a total numpty you are).

My pal Tim emailed and kind of summed up the euphoria that any fan of any club feels when his team score and he or she is somewhere distant, far away, and watching on TV: "I was watching the game in a quiet Hampton Hill pub. Everyone else was absorbed with their meals and their hushed quiet conversations. Then Nugent struck. I went berserk - a shriek of delight which hit that precise octave reserved only for moments of extreme psychosis. Think Antony Perkins. But, there's something so thrilling, so visceral, about a bullet header… all conversations stopped instantly, followed by an uncertain, nervous titter. Twenty minutes later came a repeat performance. Now the punters turned to the screen, tuning into the Burnley phenomena, curious to discover the source of such unbridled joy much like the occupants of that diner in 'When Harry Met Sally'. Fifteen minutes later I left the pub as an evangelist. When it comes to spreading the gospel, I'm always better in Secular Street.

But as good as the Sunderland win felt, the final week of September was decidedly uncomfortable with defeats at Barnsley and Spurs. I wanted the manager to play the same team that beat Accrington so impressively; go the whole way, and put the second team out. As it was he put out a sort of mish mash of fringe players and first teamers. The combination did not work and last year's Carling semi-finalists fell ignominiously at Oakwell.

By all accounts only Eagles and Guerrero impressed although Owen Coyle insisted that enough chances were made to have won the game and the Barnsley goalkeeper made several saves. By and large the travelling suppporters had a different view and were not best pleased by the overall display. And of the rash, impetuous, raw Eckersley, eventually replaced by Duff, the less said the better. So Barnsley continues to be a miserable place for Burnley and legend says there has not been a win there for nearly 80 years.

If Barnsley was chastening, then the Tottenham result was positively alarming. Or was it? Were we naïve to think that we could go to places like this and maybe get a point or even a win? Or did this result show exactly what many feared at the beginning of the season; that several large thumpings awaited just around the corner. If adrenalin, passion, and a full house crowd won the first three home games - and in some style - then naivety, a porous, lightweight midfield, and twitchy, inadequate defending lost us the four opening away games.

To be fair, at Tottenham, Fletcher had a perfectly decent goal disallowed for a poor offside decision. Had that stood the scores would have been levelled. After that who knows how the game would have gone. And, Blake hit the post. Coyle bemoaned decisions not going Burnley's way. But the problems go deeper than that. And the problems begin with a small, lightweight, paperweight midfield, Blake, Alexander, Gudjonsson and Elliott, that offers no protection to the back four. It lacks muscle and power. Any team with nous and pace can slice through them at will.

The mathematically and cerebrally inclined noticed the trend in the away scores. First it was 0 - 2 at Stoke, then 0 - 3 at Chelsea, 0 - 4 at Liverpool. And then it was the horrible 0 - 5 at Spurs. Life works in other funny ways. Robbie Keane who normally needs at least six chances to score one goal, today chose this game to put just about every chance away and score four times, three of them coming in the last 15 minutes. The scoring trend, however, is worrying. The next away game is Blackburn. It's hard to be critical, for did we not think straight away at Wembley when the final whistle went, that a season in the Premier League might just be a tad difficult for us? Did we not think that the main objective was to take the money, pay our debts and then sit back and just enjoy the ride, however bumpy it may be?

Perhaps Burnley should have sought the services of Sol Campbell after he fled the scene at Notts County (only kidding). Just one game at an inhospitable Morecambe convinced him that not even £40 thousand a week was worth the mauling and clogging he endured. You shouldn't laugh, but just what did he expect? The Notts County Chief Exec insisted they had a plan, a five-year plan no less.

Hearing that reminded me of the time when here at Turf Moor Towers chief exec Dave Edmundson had a three-year plan. None of us ever really found out what it was and years later we're still wondering. Maybe Sol was worried that by the time the five years was up, he would only be 40, but he would feel like he was 70. Sol must have compared the attractions of being grappled and clogged in the lowest division to sitting in the sunshine with his cell-phone at a pavement café in London enjoying a Capuccino.

Next up on Sven's shopping list there was our very own Ade Akinbiyi, last heard of in Houston. He didn't do very well there by all accounts. You could imagine the scene at ground control: "Houston we have a problem." There is a wonderful article somewhere that describes how every Christmas the big clubs go and buy big players, the average clubs buy average players… and somebody somewhere buys Ade Akinbiyi. Christmas has come early to Notts County this year.

After watching the Tottenham game on Sky First, I then caught up on the Time of Our Lives programme I had taped while we had a week away. This was the one with Alex Elder, John Connelly and Jimmy Mac. Elder lives in Spain these days, Connelly most of the year in his touring van, and Jimmy Mac still lives in the same house in Burnley he bought sometime in the reign of Queen Victoria.

Of course they talked of the old days, of Bob Lord, the conveyor belt of talent at Gawthorpe, several of them working for the NCB then dashing to Turf Moor for training still in their work clothes; of being sold, and great opponents like Tom Finney, Maurice Setters, Jimmy Scoular and Tommy Banks. For any Burnley fans that saw the three legends play it was a magical hour.

The hour I spent squirming, watching the Spurs 5 Burnley 0 demolition seemed like several. The hour I spent watching the three old Burnley boys reminiscing felt like it was over in minutes. And, dear Lord, please when I am 78 can I still be as strikingly good looking and elegantly sartorial as Jimmy Mac.