Dave’s Ramblings – Burnley
The small northern town of Burnley was named after a legendary local hero called Lee – a man who once tried to roast roadkill indoors and accidentally invented central heating by setting his entire house on fire. So the town was originally called “Burnt-by-Lee”, but the locals eventually shortened it because writing the whole thing on envelopes was exhausting.
Despite its size, the town’s club is actually one of the oldest around, founded way back in 1882. Their ground, Turf Moor, has been in use since 1883, and to be honest, it hasn’t changed much since Victorian times. Neither has the town. The locals still proudly march around in clogs, and the nearest thing to running water is Dave Fishwick sprinting back from the village well with a couple of buckets.
Burnley are currently managed by former Chelsea “legend” Scott Parker. I use the word legend in the loosest possible sense – during his 18-month stay at Stamford Bridge he racked up the incredible total of 15 appearances and scored a grand sum of… one goal. A true icon of “nearly there” football.
Fun fact: not many people realise Scott comes from showbiz royalty. His dad was famously the chauffeur for Lady Penelope, cruising around Tracy Island (just off the coast of Blackpool) in that iconic pink Rolls-Royce.
Luckily Scott didn’t take after his dad height wise (his dad was just 22 inches tall). He took after his mum, more famously known as Nosey.
I’m really not a fan of these endless international breaks. And it’s not just because my footballing interests begin with Chelsea and end with Chelsea – it’s mainly because when the players come back, you’ve no idea what state they’ll be in. Some return injured, some return exhausted, and some return looking like they’ve spent two weeks learning absolutely nothing except how to take selfies on a team bus. Getting them back together afterwards is like trying to reunite a group of toddlers after a sugar-fuelled birthday party: you just hope no one’s crying, limping, or speaking with a suddenly suspicious new accent.
Honestly, from the very first whistle, today’s performance was so poor it could’ve doubled as a cautionary tale for aspiring footballers everywhere. And let’s be clear: Burnley weren’t good. Not even close. This wasn’t a tale of two titans – it was more like watching two school teams who’d been told there was a packet of biscuits waiting for the winners.
For most of the match, the ball was being treated like a live grenade. At one point I genuinely wondered if either team had accidentally agreed not to shoot on target. It took us about 30 minutes – THIRTY! – before we finally managed to point the ball vaguely in the direction of the goal. I’ve seen toddlers at a soft-play centre produce more coherent attacking moves.
Finally, on 37 minutes, the breakthrough arrived – Neto popped up at the far post to meet Jamie Gittens’ cross, presumably shocked that someone had actually delivered a ball to the right postcode. It was also nice to see Gittens involved, considering he’d been playing such a convincing second fiddle to Kyle Walker up to that point he might as well have come on carrying a flute.
Entertainment-wise, that was pretty much your lot for the first half. If the first 45 minutes were a film, it would’ve gone straight to DVD. Things did pick up slightly after the break – Neto rattled the post early on, which at least woke up our fans who’d begun to wonder if the goals had been moved overnight.
Malo Gusto had a shot saved, and then we went into “everyone-have-a-go” mode with Joao Pedro, Gittens, Fernandez and even Marc Cucurella all trying their luck. It was like watching players queue up at a funfair shooting gallery, except with worse aim.
Finally, with two minutes of normal time left, Marc Guiu decided he’d had enough of the chaos and laid it on a plate for Fernandez, who tucked away the second goal. Job done, result secured, and up to second place – possibly briefly, like a holiday romance you know won’t last.
But honestly, and I hope the football gods prove me wrong, we’re about as close to a title challenge as I am to taking a casual weekend stroll on the moon.
My takeaways from today…
First of all, why can we not just focus on the task in front of us? Maresca treated today’s match like it was the warm-up act for the real show. His team selection screamed, “I’ve already mentally fast-forwarded to Tuesday,” when Barcelona come swanning into the Bridge.
Look, I get it, big European night, famous club, bright lights but maybe, just maybe, we could try giving every game the attention it deserves? Instead of rotating like we’re hosting a raffle and risking dropping points to teams so average they could be the dictionary definition of “meh,” how about we just… play properly? Radical idea, I know.
At times, we lack creativity so badly it’s like the team collectively forgot that “attacking” is part of football. I spent most of the match praying to any footballing deity that Estêvão would come on earlier, just so we could produce one positive moment that didn’t involve sideways passing and existential despair.
And then there’s Tosin. Tosin! What is happening there? Is he under strict instructions to slow the game down every time he gets the ball? Does he have a stopwatch? A quota? It’s like he’s personally campaigning against forward play. Every time we look like we might build an attack, he treats the ball like a fragile antique vase that must be handled with solemn caution and absolutely no ambition. I’m convinced he thinks trying to score is against the law!
My man of the match? Andrey Santos. Stepping in for the rested Moisés Caicedo, he absolutely bossed the midfield like he’d been waiting his whole life for someone to hand him the TV remote. Before today I wasn’t entirely sure what he actually offered us. Now I’m wondering if he’s been hiding superpowers this whole time.
So, onwards and upwards! Three points, a clean sheet, and somehow we’ve ended up in second place. Next up: Barcelona. Not quite the terrifying footballing juggernaut of old, but still definitely not the kind of team you casually ignore like an unwanted group chat.
Fingers crossed we turn up with an actual plan… and a team capable of delivering it.
