|
Prior to kick-off, the mood was fairly upbeat. Despite operating on a drastically reduced budget which meant no new signings, we still had more than enough to see off the Seagulls. Little did we know that the cheerleaders dancing in front of the North Stand prior to kick-off would provide a more co-ordinated team effort than our first eleven.
This was a truly poor performance from the Clarets. At times it seemed as if they had picked up from where they had left off at the back end of last season. Burnley looked ponderous - pedantic in their attacking play and far from solid when put under pressure. In the first half in particular, a lack of guile and craft combined with an unwillingness to shoot from any distance greater than 10 yards, meant that Kuipers in the Albion goal could spend most of his time signing autographs for the blue and white faithful in the Cricket Field Stand.
Nor was it easy to make sense of certain tactics employed. Where, for example, were Robbie Blake, Ian Moore and Glen Little playing? They changed positions with such frequency, there was no chance of establishing any rhythm in the Clarets play. "I think it’s meant to be fluid" explained one bloke to his mate at half time. "So is a puddle of water" came the riposte.
The second half saw the inevitable substitution of Graham Branch. And who would like to be in his shoes? The bloke must go into every game, particularly at Turf Moor, knowing that he is just one error away from being buried beneath an avalanche of abuse from the terraces. It is getting to the point where you wonder how much longer he can carry this on his shoulders. He may be the least popular player at Turf Moor, but you have to admire his pluck for keeping at it.
The next Burnley player to knock off early was Monsieur Gnohere. His crime, if anything, was stupidity. Arthur has played enough games to know that if you lean into an opposition player and lead with your head, you are inviting a red card. That having been said, Gary Hart went down as though he had been picked out by a sniper perched atop of the North Stand.
Also exiting with King Arthur was any chance we had of getting back into the game. Courtesy of their superior organisation, Brighton were able to seal the game with a brace of goals 15 minutes after we had been reduced to ten men. All of which meant the last 20 minutes were played out in a surreal, friendly-type atmosphere as all our pre-season dreams of getting off to a good start withered on the vine. Brisser’s late consolation brought back unpleasant memories of last season’s defeat at Grimsby, where our number 19 scored a last minute effort which was ultimately to prove futile.
But if events on the pitch were unsavoury, then that was as nothing compared to the sickening scenes at half time, when Barry Kilby, a man who has re-defined Burnley Football Club was booed onto the pitch as he made the half-time draw. Quite frankly, this is staggering. Here we have a man who has transformed Burnley from a poorly run football club into a professional and forward-thinking outfit, at great personal expense.
And his reward? Comments such as, "Get your hand in your pocket!" One does wonder what these people want. A return to the dark days of Frank Teasdale perhaps, a man once quoted as saying, "We may not be in the Premiership, but there is no reason why we cannot build a rocket and fly there." In closing, I have a question for the, "Kilby Out" brigade, who do they think is going to replace him?