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We set off with me in low spirits, who wants to go to Barnsley on their 66th birthday? It was on a par with going to the SALES at the Trafford Centre or somewhere similar - or is there anywhere in fact as desperate as a Shopping Centre with millions of people shoving and pushing and elbowing - hah a bit like Bikey in the Burnley dressing room.
But 66: What's left after that? Heading towards 70, teeth getting looser and looser, hairs growing out of your nostrils, dizzy spells, a cardboard box of out-of-date tinned stuff from the local school at Harvest Festival, more trips to the doctors and when you get there you've forgotten why you went; people giving you their seat on the bus (well they used to I don't know if they still do), people on motorways shaking their fist at you, (what's wrong with 30 in the slow lane?) and no more Prem in my lifetime I shouldn't wonder.
Actually I had some happy days in and around Barnsley. I used to take minibus loads of pupils to Cannon Hall every summer. I got to know one of the curators there quite well. Then he was fired. We did residential trips to Hoyland. (Burnley anoraks will know why that place is important). It was an old church that had been converted into the ropiest self catering hostel in the UK. But it was free, always important to a Yorkshireman. And Bretton Park was also worth a visit especially when a bacon sandwich van used to park in the layby just by one of the entrances. How to bribe unruly pupils to behave - just stuff a bacon sandwich down them - it never failed.
On a grey murky morning over in Yorkshire, the estate like a skating rink, Clarets Mad woke us with the tabloid news that Brian Laws was under pressure and that according to speculation Phil Brown was waiting in the wings to replace him. The pile of birthday presents was small, observing one of the basic laws of physics that birthday presents diminish in direct proportion to increasing age. But the cricket news was outstanding, Australia 98 all out and England 157 for 0.
The news from Oakwell too was outstanding. This was the first away win of the season in the most unlikely of places. I suppose it was one of those wins that just had to happen. Barnsley took an undeserved lead with a smart pass that Hammill ran onto and put away at the second attempt. Burnley hadn't been that good in the first half but it was so against the run of play. We groaned. Another defeat loomed. The crowd was split between those who jeered Laws, and those who booed the ones who were jeering. Laws had in fact dropped Iwelumo. Replacement Guidetti provided pace (not quite electric), bustle and movement.
But the second half saw a different Burnley, a class Burnley, a Burnley that took Barnsley apart and could have scored four; a Burnley with purpose, zip, pace, determination and some supreme individual performances from Bikey, Easton, Cork, Rodriguez and the young lad Guidetti. Eagles replaced him late on and he too had an instant impact. Burnley had players who ran at Barnsley; this is what no team likes, they don't like it up 'em Captain Mainwaring.
Guidetti in fact scored the equaliser, a looping header from a deep Elliott cross. And the second, a thumping Bikey near-post, seismic, bullet header from a Wallace corner. The triple somersault with pike and twist shook the ground at Richter scale 3. Burnley dominated, drove forward, piercing the Barnsley defence over and again. Barnsley fans drooled with envy. The away end smelled victory, roared them on and sang their hearts out. At last an away win and well deserved. The Laws Out banners were rolled up and packed away. One of them read LWAS OUT. A dyslexic banner - fancy that. Our frozen feet and ice-cold noses headed homeward. Still plenty of Turkey and Christmas Pud left over and more midnight cricket to look forward to. What a birthday. 66 wasn't too bad after all.
If Burnley played like Barcelona at Barnsley (well just a bit) then in the next game at home to Scunthorpe it was more like Bacup Borough (Reserves). It was impossible to understand that this was the same group of players that spent 45 minutes cheerfully ripping Barnsley apart. This was Scunthorpe now giving Burnley a lesson in application, spirit, commitment and teamwork. They did the simple things well - like passing to each other, defending in numbers and getting to the ball first. If Burnley dazzled at Barnsley, then against Scunthorpe they were dire, dismal, and by the end more or less disinterested. The wonder is that Scunthorpe didn't get a couple more in the final minutes as Burnley morphed into the eleven invisible men. Perhaps the best comment from an irate supporter was, "We made Scunthorpe look like Brazil 1970." And don't forget Scunthorpe had lost their previous five games.
When the second Scunthorpe goal went in the crowd erupted with "Laws Out" chants. This wasn't just a few pockets; this was most of three sides of the ground. It was horrible, it was ugly; it was vicious and cruel. It was Turf Moor for a few brief minutes turned into the Coliseum in Rome. This was a crowd giving the thumbs down, wanting blood and the stricken manager despatched with a swift stroke of the Chairman's sword. This was a crowd that from the very first, way back in January, was baffled by the appointment leaving Laws with an impossible task and not just one Everest to climb but two with "shocked" players and lukewarm fans.
But, Brian Laws is a human being and no man should be subjected to this level of public humiliation. Of course he has said he is well used to criticism and it is part of the job, but what was abundantly clear from this display of ire was there was now a Megson situation where a manager's position becomes utterly untenable. Even during Steve Cotterill's long winless run there was never anything like the mass fury that exploded in the 84th minute. The goodwill that existed after the win over Bolton evaporated after Coventry.
After the display at Barnsley it was hard to find anyone who expected a home defeat at the hands of the club second bottom in the Division. A win in fact would have seen Burnley sneak under the radar into the top six. But there was no chance of that. Players presumably on twice the money as their Scunthorpe opponents were so poor that there could not possibly have been a man of the match other than Jack Cork. There was no announcement. It would have been no surprise had the sponsors declined the selection.
The final minutes of the game ended with the sad sight of all semblance of football totally gone as hoofballs were aimed at the two big strikers Iwelumo and Thompson. At least three time Scunthorpe forwards found themselves in on goal with not a defender in sight. Chants of "Time to go… time to go" and boos rained down as they all headed towards the tunnel.
The barbs and abuse were hurled at Brian Laws, but what of the players? This utterly rank bad performance meant it was the manager left suffering dreadfully at the hands of a baying crowd. Perhaps it should have been them as well. It was they who were abject. After the game, Laws commented that he understood the fans' anger. What else could he say? The man cannot win. Had he said the players had been inept, incompetent, overpaid, and shambolic… as we all did… he would have been accused of blaming the players. One can only hope he let rip and told them that behind closed doors.
And so the year reaching it end had truly become an annus horribilis: the departure of Owen Coyle, relegation from the Premiership without any kind of fight whatsoever from the players; the appointment of a bland and very average manager, and just eleven wins in the last 12 months out of 40 League games. Even so, still Burnley remained just two points away from the top six and with games in hand. And did not the blessed Owen Coyle preside over a team that lost five in a row over the Christmas and New Year period in that promotion year? But the crowd's verdict was simple; they wanted a new man to try to take the club forward.
As we trudged back to our cars in the dank drizzle, or walked down a miserable Harry Potts Way, the sunshine of Wembley seemed years ago and Christmas lights went unnoticed as we shambled along with our heads down wondering just what happens next. Was it all a dream? No it wasn't but after the misery of this abject Scunthorpe game it seemed unlikely that we would be daring to dream again if games such as this were to be the norm and penniless teams from the bottom three, and barely enough support to fill half a dozen taxis, could give us a football lesson.
And then, quite suddenly, Laws' reign was over.
Rumours of his dismissal immediately after the game were unfounded. The day after, Brendan Flood in the Lancashire Telegraph, announced that yes the directors were concerned and that discussions regarding the manager would take place within the next few days. With the chairman in New York it was presumed that any decisions would be left until his return. The preference was for a unanimous decision. The directors wanted to communicate to the fans that they were concerned. The aims of the club were not being fulfilled. The message was to wait; any decision would come later.
And then just as fans were digesting that news, quickly transmitted to messageboards and websites, an announcement was made on the official club site that Brian Laws had been asked to step down. The chairman had telephoned him from a snowbound New York. If there was a surprise, it was not that Laws had been dismissed, but that it had been so swift. It was not rocket science to suppose that Brendan Flood had been on the phone to the chairman after the game and reported the sorry state of affairs, the furious crowd reaction and that his position was now so undermined by fans' antipathy that it was beyond the point of no return.
Of course the old question surfaced yet again. Should he have ever been appointed in the first place? The new question was simply what would his dismissal cost the club? And what had his tenure already cost in terms of players bought and new staff brought in.
The general consensus was uncomplicated. This had been an appointment doomed from the very start. But if the loss of the Premiership place had been tame and spiritless; it could be argued that it was down to the football gods that Burnley had been so unlucky in games when their play had merited more points. The line is so fine that separates success from failure, a missed Alexander penalty; a wonder display by the Crystal Palace goalkeeper, referees' decisions in some games that never went Burnley's way. Just a little more luck and there might have been another 7 or 8 points to add to the total and maybe even second place in the table. It was not to be.
But, are some managers luckier than others; are some managers able to inspire and motivate, and conjure wins from draws, or draws from impending defeats? Are some managers just natural winners and others not? Fans argued that Brian Laws was an average, journeyman manager.Steeped in experience yes, even two promotions to his credit, but overall his 800+ game win record was poor and at Burnley very poor. Dismissal for taking his previous club into the bottom three of the Championship was always the millstone round Brian Laws' neck as far as Burnley fans were concerned. It was always the one thing that left grizzled newspaper hacks shaking their heads. It left Burnley players shocked.
So, another chapter ends in the Burnley story. This one was short but not sweet, and most certainly very costly.