BLACKBURN ROVERS 0 BURNLEY 1
BURNLEY 2 HUDDERSFIELD TOWN 1
We thought that the win at Ewood 2 years ago was special and then along comes another to store away in our heads for rainy days.
Of course the win in the promotion season maybe carries the bigger significance seeing as it was the first for 35 years and the Clarets had been 1-0 down. But this one was up there too in the list of top games to remember. Scattered amongst the Burnley end were more than just a few fans dressed in chicken outfits or wearing chicken masks. For those who were there, the bus ride home must have been a jubilant 7-mile celebration party.
A pretty game this was not. Ugly it might have been. Burnley were far from fluent; they were as they have been all season grinding out a result with resilience and resolve, defenders digging deep, tackling, covering, blocking, clearing, filling the box with bodies, Heaton in top, top form and Barton producing a man of the match performance.
It may not have been the best example of ‘the beautiful game’ yet it was filled with heart stopping moments and packed with dramatic incidents. Each side could have had a penalty when in the first instance Hanley’s legs tangled with Barton’s and sent him crashing down. At the other end Barton did exactly the same thing bringing a Blackburn player down. The referee said no to both of them. Maybe they were marginal and each cancelled out the other. But the blatant pen that went unpunished was when Hanley deliberately tripped Barton immediately after they both got up. Both were still in the penalty area with the ball in play way upfield. Neither ref nor linesman saw it. The cameras did. For Hanley it would have been a red card but both linesman and referee would not have been looking that way. Hanley knew what he was cynically doing but in the end it mattered not one jot. The Joey of ten years ago might well have got up and lamped Hanley; the new Joey just looked mildly miffed, got up and got on with the game.
The goal of course was sublime. From a free kick Mee eventually swiped at the ball and hit thin air, but was smart enough seconds later to compose himself and roll it back just a few yards to Arfield lurking on the edge of the box who side footed it beautifully into the top corner. If that wasn’t memorable enough his charge to the opposite end of the ground with the rest of the team in hot pursuit was a celebration to remember. He collected Duff on the way and arm in arm they ran right to the Burnley fans that by this time were totally beside themselves with the sheer joy and wonder of the whole thing. A second win at Ewood was just too much to contemplate with much of the half remaining.
In the dying seconds Heaton produced a wonder save from a Duffy header that was heading in. When Brian Clough bought Peter Shilton he announced that Shilton would win them at least 12 points that season. Heaton may well do the same at Burnley. Duffy looked crestfallen. Jordan must have felt much the same by the end of the game. He had three good attempts but it just wasn’t his day.
It just wasn’t Blackburn’s day at all. They hit the woodwork with a screamer and missed another golden chance when it would have been easier to score. They dominated the first 20 minutes when Burnley could do little right. But there was no way past Heaton and the defence. If relentless was once the key word, now it was resilient. If it was once remorseless, now it was resistant.
Amazingly there was not one yellow card with nothing at all to resemble the games that Steve Kindon remembers vividly, other than a bit of handbags stuff between Gray and Marshall. Kindon remembers real animosity on these derby days and the time he had his nose broken. That was on Boxing Day 1977 and a 3-2 defeat at Burnley. It was a time when Burnley under Harry Potts were not doing at all well; the game was all physical and a real battle. Into the second half and Kindon was in hot pursuit of a long ball in front of the Bob Lord. An elbow clattered into his face leaving blood everywhere, all over his shirt and his nose broken in two.
To say he was angry and sought retribution is an understatement and receiving treatment in the dressing room all he wanted to do was get back on and seek out the culprit. As he came back on, the Blackburn players knew how psyched up Kindon was and Derek Fazakerly told him to go back off before he did anything stupid. He did his best to seek revenge, Brian Miller had told him who it was, but the Blackburn player kept well away, well shielded by his team-mates.
It was in the return fixture that justice was done. Burnley won this game 1-0 and Kindon adds the laconic punchline to the story. ‘I got booked, but the guy who broke my nose left the field on a stretcher.’
Sean Dyche’s profile was raised even further. He did not end up at Sunderland but with Tim Sherwood gone at Villa after another defeat, and Sherwood looking more and more morose, now it was the Villa job under the spotlight. The pundits were writing: when oh when will a leading Premier club give a chance to Sean Dyche, presuming that’s what he wants one day.
Dyche recently acknowledged the influence on him of two other managers – Brian Clough and Alex Ferguson. Ferguson in his newest book Leaders praises Dyche highly and sees him as one of the most promising managers in the game. Dyche spoke in depth to reporter Chris Boden, the gist of it being you can’t treat everyone the same, different types need different handling, you have to know the group and the individuals and what works best for them, there’s no one perfect way; he’s managed around 200 games and uses different styles all the time.
So far it’s working and it was good waking up on Sunday morning after the Blackburn game to think we’d got one over them yet again, Burnley certainly the dominant club at the moment, the days of Rovers buying a title long gone and 10,000 empty seats in the Rovers stands. Now it’s Burnley fans hiring planes with messages aimed at Blackburn that say: In Venkys We Trust. I sang a quick verse of’ Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day,’ in the bath. A very hot bath first thing every morning is now a must these days to get my back loosened up. Paul Fletcher did the same before a game as he got older.
‘I was never fast but I was always clean,’ he says today.
It was hard to decide who you wanted to lose in the Leeds v Blackburn game but it was obvious within minutes which way it would go. Maximo Cellino chose the pre-match music Things Can Only Get Better. Whoops, they didn’t. Give them credit, Blackburn were decent and forgive me Lord but I’d take Lawrence and Conway at Turf Moor. Cellino’s glowering face, Leeds fans’ faces grim, glum and almost bewildered, the thousands of empty seats and the abject poverty of Leeds’ attempts to salvage something are the images that remain. There are allegedly, according to an insider, over 30 legal claims against the club for unpaid debts whilst dozens of staff and contracted professionals have been shown the door, many almost on a whim, according to the Independent, describing Elland Road as a God-forsaken place from top to bottom and currently paying off 4 previous managers. Cameron Stewart, one of the most underwhelming players briefly to light the Turf Moor stage, reportedly received £750k in a claim for wrongful dismissal. Who says being average doesn’t pay?
Evans gone by Christmas – he will probably say it was an honour and a privilege to have been sacked by Cellino; a bit like the journalists that were all banned from Turf Moor by Old Bob who considered it a badge of honour and wore special ties to mark their membership of this exclusive club. Evans says he needs six new players. He’ll have to hurry; his time is running out; Leeds have had more managers than home wins so far in 2015.
Another Burnley fan in Turkey emerged via Facebook. Via the Friends of Kalkan group a message came from Ozkan inviting me to be his ‘friend’. OK, I accepted and the messages went like this:
Him: Hi how are you.
Me: Fine I enjoyed my 2 weeks in Kalkan very much.
Him: That is good how about I can clean your pool.
Me: I do not have a house in Kalkan with a pool but I do have a large bath in my house in England.
Him: OK I have plot of land for sale.
Me: Sorry I am but a poor Englishman with no money.
Him: Ah, no worry. Up the Clarets
I haven’t heard from him since.
Saturday against Huddersfield: a special day for grandson Joe. His Aunty Victoria had decided to sponsor Matt Taylor and it was the day to meet him and receive two signed shirts, a home and away. Matt Taylor is currently Joe’s number one now that Trippier and Ings have gone. He must have watched the video of Taylor’s goal at Nottingham 20 times and has action-replayed it down our hall 100 times with the door at the end receiving some serious grief. He spent most of the school holiday week with us eating us out of house and home.
By the time of the game Sean D had been presented with a 3-year anniversary cake in the boardroom and Barry K had agreed to take on the role of Vice Chairman now that his health issues were under control. It was a weekend of celebration then with the question being asked: Is Sean Dyche the greatest ever Burnley manager? Win promotion again this season and the answer would be a resounding yes for this charismatic, larger-than-life man, but in the meantime the other nominations in the sealed envelope (the criteria being achievements and contributions to the club) are John Haworth, Cliff Britton, Alan Brown, Harry Potts, Jimmy Adamson, Jimmy Mullen and Stan Ternent. Owen Coyle was disqualified. One thing is for certain: this club has never had such a good group of people in charge, from the manager, to the CEO and the Boardroom.
Breakfast: Leeds and the Elland Road comedy club shrouded in mist and gloom, Cellino agreeing in principle to sell to a Supporters Group. I sprinkled salt on my boiled egg (6 minutes from boiling) lightly. Leeds supporters sprinkled it heavily on the use of Cellino and principle in the same sentence. The ground by the way is owned by a guy from Manchester just to add to the mix. Now there is talk of renaming it Poundland Road.
We were there very early to be taken round the pitch perimeter to meet Matt Taylor and receive a couple of shirts. Even before 1.00 in the ground there was a buzz; the buzz based very much on the fact that at this point in time things were going so well, optimism high, staff filled with cheerfulness and good spirits, the place filled with smiles. You can’t buy this sort of stuff; you can’t just ship it in. When I was a Head I was blessed with a staff that in the main were just miserable farts.
Pitchside at just after 1.00, the ground and turf immaculate, the weather mild and dry, and it’s surprising just how many different groups are wandering round, how many players are meeting and greeting. At the entrance to the players’ tunnel it was like Charter Walk on payday, Joe and Aunty Victoria looking star struck, Mrs T chatting away, Michael Duff with a group, Dave Jones and Tom Heaton stretching their legs, Ashley Barnes wandering round to the Fanzone, photographs galore.
But where was Bertie Bee? No sign of him anywhere, not there or later during the game. Had his new book success gone to his head? Had book launch day and signing lots of books and crowds queueing to see him persuaded him he was now a Bee list celebrity? There were rumours he’d flown off to Hollywood convinced he was now worth bigger and better things hoping to get a star role in a remake of The Sting.
And the game: It was a Halloween Trick or Treat Special. They must have trained specially for this tricking us into thinking it was all done and dusted, 2-0 up and coasting thanks to a Gray penalty and a Gray net buster, spraying the ball around, snuffing out any threats, Heaton making saves when he needed to, creating plenty of chances and all of it tricking us into a sense of security that the win was but minutes away with nothing to worry about. And trick us they did for then there was a final short period when we were treated to what so often happens when we chew our nails and squirm and howl for the whistle because we’ve carelessly let the other side in, Duffo pots an own goal and hell they’ve scored. Then it’s all backs to the wall as balls are pumped in, headed in, lobbed in, hammered in, lofted in incessantly so that we will the referee to blow for time before a 2-0 lead is squandered.
But: the crowd heading up to a respectable 17,000 and thankfully it all ended well with Heaton, Jones, Barton and Gray particularly impressive in a game that could have been won in a canter if more chances had been taken. What a shame it would have been to spoil Sean D’s third anniversary, Joe and Aunty Victoria’s special day and the incredible feelgood factor there is around the place at the moment. Memories are made of special days like this when we say what the hell, you can’t take it with you, and treat ourselves to a little bit of an extravagance.
