Blackburn Reflections

For ninety at the Turf, and for all but the last three at Ewood, when Morten Gamst Pedersen lashed home the loose ball from that most acute of angles, we were in this cup-tie. Yet once the Dane scored - you knew, deep down, that there was no coming back.

Yet in truth, that was all it ever was – a dream. Cold, hard facts did not lead on to genuine belief. All four of their midfielders would be ahead of our five in any pecking order. Dickov, Gallagher et al would have been welcome alternatives to Ian Moore up front. Perhaps only our centre halves – McGreal, Sinclair and Cahill – would have realistically threatened to displace their opposite numbers. And then, as four years ago, the depth of quality on the respective benches betrayed the gulf existing on paper between the two squads.

It has to be said that, over the two matches, an ignorant observer would have picked out Blackburn as the Premiership opposition. Slightly quicker of thought, swifter in their execution and more incisive in the final third, they did look the fractionally superior team. And yet, for all that, on what did the tie turn? A deflected thirty yarder and an injury to our best player on the night of the replay.

Never could anyone suggest that our lads didn’t deserve to be on that field alongside the Ewood Park outfit. To beat Blackburn, we were always going to need that bit of luck which turns dreams into reality.

We needed the scuffed shot which trickled in the corner off a half-turned body to go in their net, not ours. Perhaps we needed a goalkeeper to pull off the once in a lifetime save, the one no-one can expect him to make, to keep us in the tie when the chips were down. We certainly didn’t need to wheel two of our most influential players off the treatment table whilst leaving our most important behind, or a freak of the fixture calendar that gave us two tough away games whilst Blackburn jetted off into the sunshine.

But even still, there was a brief period in the game, after Micah’s goal and after the brief Rovers flurry which opened the second half, where dreaming gave way to believing. As they ran out of ideas, and the Ewood crowd returned to their more usual mute status, one could almost see panic setting in within the home ranks, as attack after attack foundered on a wall of well-drilled Claret and Blue. It just needed a chance to be fashioned on one of those counter-attacks, the one goal to put us ahead, and surely it would see us through.

Alas, it never came. But Steve Cotterill’s full-time actions, in gathering together his players and forcing their heads upwards, were entirely appropriate. They deserved to go to the Darwen end and receive the acclaim of the massed ranks of Clarets, just as those supporters deserved the thanks that were returned.

Steve Cotterill said before the first game that he wanted to see Turf Moor full, and to experience a hostile atmosphere: he got it. And he got the type of away support last night which most clubs can only dream of. Listening to him later, he sounded genuinely emotional about how close his team had come and for the fans who backed them all the way.

It’s funny to think that in the summer, some people believed a southern manager with no connection to the club, wouldn’t be able to care as much as someone with inside knowledge might. That myth can be well and truly put to bed now. He cares, his players care. There are beautiful but rare occasions in football where those who manage and play for the team, and those who support it, combine in mutual admiration. It happened, at Burnley, for Jimmy Mullen and Stan Ternent. It is happening too for Steve Cotterill’s Burnley.

In part, that bond is a function of performances such as last night, which despite the result, give rise to optimism. In this evolving Burnley team, the potential is plain to see. A few more pieces in the jigsaw, and the feel-good factor we seemed to have misplaced over the past couple of years really will return.

This cup-tie came at a pretty good time for Burnley. After the Robbie Blake / Richard Chaplow shenanigans, with the team ensconced in mid-table and struggling to score goals, something was needed to revive interest and kick-start the club.

It’s a quirk of the unpredictable nature of football that the timing of the catalyst which can inject impetus is rarely of the club’s own choosing. You must simply take them when they occur, and make the best of them. For this season, it is unlikely to spark a late dash to the play-offs; the personnel have played too many games, and we are too far behind, to make up the deficit.

The important thing is to manage it well, ensure the season doesn’t fizzle out into a damp squib as it did after our cup run two years ago. Keep that optimism burning through the summer, and maybe this squad plus additions can take us back to the very upper reaches of this division next term. There is a basis for success here, a window of opportunity – it is important that it is not squandered lightly.

The signing of Ade Akinbiyi completes an experienced and reliable spine to Cotterill’s side. The challenge now is to build upon it: cup performances against Villa, Liverpool and now Rovers have put down a marker, and we must aspire to build a squad capable of playing like that on a regular basis.

For now, though, enjoy a remarkable feeling of pride for those one hundred and eighty minutes of passion and commitment, on the pitch and in the stands. It will be laced with a feeling of disappointment for what could have been, and with frustration that the 20-odd years of waiting go on. But we are getting closer to realising that dream: year by year, that gap is narrowing. We didn’t deserve to lose last night; there was nothing in this tie, except a slice of fortune. And one day, perhaps not far away, that roll of the dice will go our way.