A fan's-eye view from Turf Moor, with Stephen Cummings
THERE are, so the old adage goes, only two certainties in life - taxes and death.
Well let me assure you, gentle reader, there exists a third certainty so cast iron and guaranteed that by comparison it makes the other two so-called "certainties" seem flimsier than a politician's promise.
Its nature? Burnley Football Club's unerring knack of getting into a great position, building up everyone's hopes and then - when it really matters - blowing it in distressingly spectacular fashion.
Yup, I'm afraid it's true. The Clarets are unique and depressingly consistent in standing on the cusp of greatness, surveying the vista below them, pregnant with hope, promise and expectation, and then saying "Nah, sod it. Let's stay here instead."
Which is why although Saturday's home defeat at the hands of Chesterfield was utterly dispiriting, it was not exactly the shock to the system one may have thought - far from it if truth be told. In fact given our instinct for dodging out of the way at the exact moment that greatness is about to thrust itself upon us, it could be viewed as positively life-affirming - a constant in an ever-changing world. There we were, over one million pounds spent on players, the return of Glen Little to the side and Turf Moor's biggest attendance of the season to date. So what happens? We succumb to a side infamous for dullard, uninspiring, goal-free football.
But really, this has got to stop. It's been going on for far too long. You want precedents? You may recall that under Adrian Heath the Clarets embarked on a tremendous run, thumping Blackpool, Walsall and, most impressively, Brentford, all away from home.
We were suddenly contenders for promotion. As were Luton, who came to a packed expectant Turf Moor and won 1-0. We never recovered from that, plumping for mid-table mediocrity rather than a promotion party.
Hell, we could even screw up in our prime! My dad, his heart still heavy with the memory, occasionally tells me of the incredible collapse of the Clarets 61-62 season.
Within the space of a few weeks contrived to lose a seemingly unassailable lead at the head of the First Division (the title eventually going to Ipswich), before losing to Spurs in the FA Cup Final. Burnley blew the double. One wonders if, in those fateful few weeks, the die was cast. Will it ever be broken?
Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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