Things were getting a little bit uptight on the webs and airwaves. A club official was tweeting something to the effect that we were doing the team no good with the moans and groans during these poor games and closed his account. I didn’t actually see the tweets. Bartley tweeted something to say we must all pull together. Perhaps when my pension equals the players’ wages, then yes I’ll feel like we’re all in it together or when players might one day sign an autograph that is readable instead of the scribble they offer. I don’t doubt that Eddie Howe is a sensitive guy and well aware of crowd reactions. He said he would have welcomed a game the day after ’Brighton’ to cleanse the place of the feeling of disappointment and let-down.
 |
| Marvin Bartley wants everyone to pull together |
With no game on the 8th we headed over to Hornsea for the weekend. The late summer arrived to remind us that there is such a thing as warm sunshine. The Daily Express said that this late summer would last until October. It was raining by Monday. I do like my breakfasts and thoroughly recommend breakfast in the sunshine at Hornsea Mere. The Mere is a huge expense of fresh water just on the edge of the town. You can hire a rowing boat or go yachting. It’s teeming with birdlife. There’s nothing fancy about the café but the breakfasts are ‘triffic. Is there anything better than a large bacon and egg bap, and when you bite into it the egg-yellow dribbles down your chin, and a dozen ducks are quacking and shuffling round your feet hoping for a hand-out?
England thrashed Moldova on the Friday night with many people saying they were barely bothered. But the fun on that day was the appearance in the Press and radio of the AVB ‘news’ that he had asked to be considered for the Burnley job back in January 2010. AVB comprises only about half a page in the 250+ page Paul Fletcher book. It was non-news then because no-one had even heard of him. But then he became a ‘big’ name, so it became ‘big’ news. The way the story spread like a prairie fire within hours on a dozen national football websites, newspapers and Talksport was amazing. The way that it was the ‘jargon’ that was latched onto was fascinating. It wasn’t the jargon at all that was the reason he didn’t get the job. Some articles even said when he was interviewed the Board didn’t understand it. In fact, he wasn’t even interviewed. And then the news disappeared from the airwaves just as quickly as it had appeared. John Terry was injured and would be unavailable for the Ukraine game and Roy Hodgson had frozen Peter Crouch out of his plans. That was much more important.
Watching the Olympic Parade brought back so many wonderful memories of what was a truly unforgettable summer of sport. The lumps in my throat came back again. I reckon I had more lumps in my throat this summer than even my mother had in her custard, the making of which she never quite mastered even after 40 years. I have this image of her still bending over the stove stirring whatever she was boiling, or over the bowl mixing whatever she was baking, with a cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth. Everything I ever ate, until I left home, was flavoured with cigarette ash. Until I was 18 I always thought it was a normal ingredient of any recipe. As a kid if we ever went on a picnic you were as likely to find salt in the flask of tea as much as sugar.
We Brits seem to put ourselves down at most opportunities. But, kick-started by Bradley Wiggins in the Tour de France, weeks and weeks of flag-waving, medal successes and resultant national pride, plus the brilliant organisation of the opening and closing ceremonies, topped by the incredible scenes in the London athletes parade; and then on top of all that Murray’s win in New York, came a reminder that when we feel like it, we Brits can be a bit special.
We even had a win over Peterborough to celebrate. For the first 20 minutes it was samba party time and there was a deserved 1–0 lead. With better shooting this could have been 3-0. Then Mike Dean awarded Peterborough a penalty. Perhaps he’d remembered that in 2009 he’d been very generous to Burnley and waved away two Sheffield penalty shouts. Were they penalties back then – he said not – I still wonder - not that it matters now – but every time I see Mike Dean I see him in a very kindly light.
Peterborough scored from the pen and then eventually took a 2 – 1 lead courtesy of some generous defending when one of their big lads powered through as if Shackell, Duff and Trippier weren’t there. We groaned and thought ‘ere we go again. Then followed a poor period of rambling play but Charlie (it seemed at the time) made it 2–2 and it looked like that might be the final score until he scored as sublime an opportunist goal as you will ever see, controlling a ball that fell nicely for him and striking it home from somewhere round the penalty spot. Whatever it is that ‘makes’ a natural poacher/striker; Charlie has it. Until that goal the game could have gone either way but after that Burnley switched back into samba mode and ran out comfortable winners.
Peterborough might be bottom and winless, but they were no slouches going forward giving the Burnley back four that included Duff a torrid time. But at last in this game from Burnley there was more pace and urgency. Grant was on top form and had to be, and the rest of the top performances came from McCann, Austin and Stanislas. The latter had his best game and showed that he can be a match winner. The pace we had heard about was there, the dribbling, the effort and attitude – and it was no coincidence all this came when he was played wide on the right and by and large stayed wide. He capped it with a fine goal and by then Peterborough were all over the place. Before that however, enter Mike Dean again. This time it was Burnley he awarded a penalty and Charlie, brought down by the goalkeeper on his way to another goal, smote it home comfortably. He thought it was his hat-trick, maybe we all did, but alas his first goal wasn’t his and was given as an own-goal.
A little while ago someone dug up all the stats that showed the high percentage of games we win when Pato starts. Another one found that when Pato and McCann are in the team together, the results are even better. Pato started this game. Pato and McCann were together, something that hasn’t happened too often over the last couple of years. We won. The boffins must be right.
Alas a modest crowd of fewer than 11,000 saw this game. The previous poor performances must have played their part in this. The ones who stayed away missed a feast of goals and some excellent individual performances. For the first and then the final twenty minutes there was some great football from Burnley. OK the defence was dodgy but Peterborough had some big fast lads up front. Perhaps it was a case of which side had the dodgiest defence. Lucky for us it was Peterborough; and so we streamed away cheerful and optimistic again. The trial separation had worked, we were in love again.
My copy of the new Brian Laws book arrived. I wondered how much he would write about his time here in the Premier League and the problems he encountered with certain players in the dressing room. I wondered if he’d shed some light on Joey Gudjonsson’s claims that he had lost the dressing room. There’s a comment that had they won at Wigan it would have been Wigan relegated. Then there were the dreadful tame capitulations in the home games against Wolves, Portsmouth and Blackburn, all lost, that he might have commented on.
Then there was the debacle at home to Man City in the pouring rain. What happened at half-time – there’s not a mention. At around 80,000 words and just 223 pages it’s hardly a heavyweight. All in all it was disappointing. I always felt and still do that he was badly let down by some of those players and he had every legitimate reason to be critical. In fact he was more critical of the Board for not having faith in him seeing as he felt he was on track for the top six. Jensen, without naming names, was very critical of his team mates in his book, suggesting that some had just spat out the dummy and that a lousy attitude affected the squad. Not a word on this from Brian. It’s all pretty much tame stuff.
“I met with a certain resistance from the players… they were Championship players who had risen above their expectations.” (The latter or words to that effect had already been said months earlier by Wade Elliott). That’s about the sum total of Laws’ account of the problems he had. The comment was always made about Laws that he was a genuinely ‘nice’ person. If there’s a fault with this book, it’s simply that – it’s too ‘nice’ a book.
The new report on the Hillsborough tragedy made painful reading and listening. The police had altered over 100 statements. 41 people who died had the potential to be saved but ambulances that were lined up outside were not allowed in. The scale of the cover up was immense. And the stadium had no safety certificate. With or without police incompetence it was a disaster waiting to happen.
Me and Mrs T thought back to the ’74 semi between Burnley and Newcastle. We stood for that game in a corner area and I recollect having no problems with crushing or space. But that was only where we were; I’ve no idea what it was like behind the goals. I remembered though that we were always wary back then of big crowds especially after a game when you could so easily get caught up in the crush at the exits when you were funnelled into anything narrow and confined. Way back then you did these things, probably having no real idea of the inadequate safety at most if not all grounds; although as a token effort at staying safe we always tried to stand directly in front of any crush barrier. I once stood in a 78,000 crowd at Everton when Burnley played in the Christmas period. It was horrendous but it’s what you did oblivious to the danger you were in. I think my feet touched the floor about three times in 90 minutes. Who doesn’t remember seeing on TV those crowd surges caught on camera that went like waves down the Kop at Liverpool when Liverpool scored or went close.
Me and Mrs T now miss the next five league games plus the Swindon game – an escape to the sun. The problem is, does one stay incommunicado and get a big surprise when we come back and see the results and the league tables… and who we play next on the Cup? Or do we text chums for the scores as the games are played one by one. Will we come back to a place in the top six, the anonymity of mid-table, or the ignominy of bottom three? That’s the fun of being a Burnley supporter… you just never know.
