Will the real Burnley please turn up?

Last Updated : 08-Feb-2010 by Dave Thomas
Arsène Wenger - an ungracious, sour man

But instead, the abiding memory is, sadly, what an ungracious, sour man the Arsenal manager is. He looked old, pinched, lined and drawn in the TV interviews afterwards and when he announced that Arsenal dominated the second half I nearly spilt my Ovaltine.

"They made it very physical," said Arsène Wenger after the game "and of course we dominated the second half." Even hardened media pundits stared wide-eyed at each other hearing that. A little moan about the quality of the pitch was in there somewhere as well and a very big moan came later about the fixture compiler and the fixture lists. Oh and then there was, "The referee let a lot go." What an ungracious man this is when his team doesn't win. What planet is he from? When he expects to win a game and doesn't, why is it, that any small, begrudging praise that does come for the opposition, seems secondary to the complaints. Buried in all the whinging there were in fact a couple of little snippets of praise for Burnley, but totally lacking any warmth or generosity. They were afterthoughts.

There was no mention of the number of times Arsenal were sliced open at the back, their woodwork rattled twice, and a good goal disallowed for offside by a linesman whose fiddler's elbow was up and down more than Nigel Kennedy's, and whose flag was just about worn out from overuse.

We'll settle for a draw this time we thought before the game. A point would be a bonus against an Arsenal side that got themselves back on track with a 2 - 1 win at Liverpool. At Anfield their first half performance was so poor that Wenger ripped into them at half-time and told them they weren't fit to wear the Arsenal shirt. A performance from Jensen to equal the one he had the previous year in the Carling Cup would surely be too much to ask, we wondered. Jensen had a superb game, not quite scaling the heights of the Carling but superb nonetheless.

"There's something special about playing under the lights in this wonderful old stadium," said Owen Coyle. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to recreate the atmosphere of that famous night against Manchester United back in August?" We nearly did.

They arrived just 6 points from the top with a game in hand on Chelsea whilst we were just two points from the bottom three; Wenger grumbling that they'd been at Liverpool, then back down south, then back up north again in the space of 4 days. Nevertheless, they arrived surely expecting to win. They arrived with a manager renowned the world over, respected, elegant, articulate, and professorial. But when he wants to be curt, he can cut another manager dead. There was no handshake for Mark Hughes at Man City the other week. In defeat we knew from the Carling Cup game when we won 2 - 0 that he can be less than affable in defeat. But his achievements over the years have been immense. He is one of the world's great managers.

But here we were, little Burnley the pupils, in business by the skin of our teeth, versus Arsenal the masters, the stadium filled to the brim, the crowd expectant, vibrant but apprehensive. An on-form Arsenal we all knew could well put six past us unless Bendtner was playing and then they'd miss them all. William Gallas in boots so yellow I thought he was wearing a pair of bananas. Fabregas as elegant and sophicated as Faberge; in contrast Almunia the goalkeeper, in shorts the shortness I haven't seen since the 70s and whose kicking was the worst I've seen.

For the first ten minutes Arsenal, in a classical plain white shirts and black shorts looked as though they could score at will. It all looked like a throwback to the 50s with Burnley in classical plain claret shirts and plain white shorts. On seven minutes the ball stuck under the dallying Bikey's feet and trickled to Carlisle who failed to clear. Fabregas pounced. 1 - 0. Crestfallen faces, rebuking stares, wagging fingers, the feeling that the game was over already. But Bikey grew in stature and accuracy; he burst into the area to be felled by a flailing tackle. Alexander scored his 14thconsecutive penalty for Burnley and his 100th goal in all. Game on.

It ebbed and flowed, Arsenal failed to capitalise, Wenger waving his arms, and having mini tantrums and histrionics at decisions that did not go his way. But Burnley too could count themselves lucky not to add two more to their score. We need to send Wenger a video of the offside goal that should have counted. This was a game either side could have snatched. Eagles in terrific form, Fletcher his best game yet; Jensen and all the back four outstanding, Alexander was everywhere. It was a privilege to be there.

Meanwhile Crystal Palace and Watford were two more clubs who announced they would have no money to pay players unless some miracle (or new investment) happened. It could have been us; no it would have been us, if we hadn't won at Wembley. And at Leeds there was a game in the Johnson Paint Trophy for the lower League clubs, Leeds United versus Accrington. What better illustration of how the once-mighty can fall from grace. Leeds United versus Accrington, I ask you. There was another game in the Paint Trophy; Southampton versus Norwich City - two big clubs now wallowing two divisions below the Premiership.

"In every League match each participating club shall field a full-strength team." (Section E rule 20) So Burney did, unlike Wolves the night before at Old Trafford when manager McCarthy made 10 changes and put out a reserve side with the blatant, undisguised intention of keeping his full-strength first-team fit and strong for the game with Burnley the following Sunday. Wolves lost of course to Manchester United, a game McCarthy had sussed he would lose anyway so why bother playing his first-teamers. Reaction was mixed from those who cried "outrage" to those who said "so what" this is the way of football today. McCarthy argued, in effect, that his team had put so much into the win at Spurs the Saturday before that they were exhausted and drained. "I just don't think we can cope with it to be honest," he moaned, after blathering on about increased injury risks after a strenuous game. "The lads had worked to their optimum at Tottenham," he added. "It would have been hard to ask them to do it again."

Have you ever heard such poppycock? Sorry Mick that doesn't really hold up to close scrutiny. If this had been Burnley or Portsmouth you were playing I think we all know what team he would have named. This was a surrender of three points with a display of abject and unashamed surrender. What would our reaction have been at Burnley if Owen Coyle had decided we would lose anyway to Arsenal and sent out the second eleven? The boos and jeers would have rung round the ground. So they did from the Wolves fans who had paid £42 at Old Trafford to see their team lose 3 - 0. None of them had any idea as they made the journey how wasted it would be. "We want our money back," they sang. "£42 to watch the reserves," they chanted. McCarthy simply raised his eyebrows just ever so slightly, as if to say dismissively, "I hear you but too bad."

But we at Burnley can't grumble too loudly. Harry Potts years ago was one of the very first managers to put out a reserve side for a League match when the following week they had a key European Cup game to play. Such a thing was unheard of back then and was universally condemned. The club were fined. Reserves or not, they drew 4 - 4 with Chelsea and only the magic of Jimmy Greaves rescued them from defeat. Still, it was a bit naughty of McCarthy - to assume your team is going to lose anyway. Owen Coyle was diplomatic saying what a fine manager McCarthy was and what a superb job he had done at Wolves to take them to promotion. There were no prizes for guessing what Arsène Wenger thought. He redeemed himself a little with comments that came later in the week. "Burnley is a very good club with our respect," he commented in response to Owen Coyle's interest in taking starlet Jack Wilshire on loan. "Yes if he plays every week," Wenger responded.

The Wolves game on SKY: for some reason there's more nerves watching on TV than when you are there with them. Leeds gripped in ice and sub-zero temperatures and snow falling. An unaffected, though frosty Molineux was bathed in winter sunshine beneath a blue sky. The SKY build-up showed a potted history of the depths to which both clubs had sunk in the 80s and how they had both met at Wembley in the 1988 Sherpa Van Trophy Final. Over 80,000 that day supporters cast their minds back to the great days of the 50s and 60s. The Premiership game was the first top-flight contest between them for 33 years.

Wolves had won two of the last three games and made it a comfortable three out of four with this one. Their rested players never had to move out of second gear to notch a comfortable win against a Burnley side that for two thirds of the game was limp, lacklustre, and leaden. In truth the first half display was pitifully poor, devoid of any pace, ideas, passion or energy. Will the real Burnley please turn up?

The Wolves first goal was classic Burnley defending with Carlisle letting Doyle nip in front of him to win the ball, and then Jensen pushing the eventual shot out to an incoming Wolves player, not a defender anywhere near him. Wolves accepted the gift, for that is what it was and from then on dominated without ever having to try. Burnley looked woeful. The second goal early in the second half killed the game. A long, long goal kick bounced a few yards from the Burnley penalty area. Doyle collected it as if Caldwell wasn't here (he was), skipped away from Duff as if he wasn't there (he was) and slid it past Jensen. It was an incredibly simple route one goal that defenders should be embarrassed to concede at this level. Only then did Burnley show any semblance of sustained fight. Earlier, only Eagles and McDonald looked up for the game. As Burnley improved crosses that fizzed over were missed. On another day Burnley might have been awarded two penalties, but not being awarded penalties is no excuse for losing a game so easily and so weakly. Carlisle left with an injured groin early on, Owen Coyle citing the injury as a contributory factor in the first goal. Caldwell left later again with a groin injury, Coyle citing this as a possible reason for the second. Duff had no groin injury to excuse the way Doyle swanned past him far too easily.

This was as poor a display as the Arsenal was brilliant and it was the same team. Burnley can't rest 10 players. McCarthy would have explained it all succinctly had he managed Burnley. "They all played to nines and tens against Arsenal. I couldn't have expected them to play to the same level of commitment again."

The worries and suspicions were out on the table after the game. This was game number seven without a win, everybody commented. The bottom three is ominously close, the gloomy noted. A number of players are not good enough at this level, said the critical. We're not getting the breaks and the decisions, said the generous. We are still basically a Championship side overachieving on a limited budget, said the perceptive. "What a clever so and so I am," McCarthy said (probably). "I've never seen the word vindicated in the papers so often."

Hang on, two quick wins before New Year could transform everything, said the optimistic (and me).