BRISTOL CITY May 3rd 2009

     All week since the Southampton game and the unexpected Preston win at Birmingham there must have been more than just a few of us natural pessimists who had thought that we would be pipped at the post. I left Southampton in high spirits. They were replaced by doubts and fears when that final result of the day was known. How on earth could Preston put six past Cardiff and make their goal difference better than ours in just 90 minutes? How on earth could Preston score with two such wonder strikes at Birmingham? How on earth could any sane referee award them the two penalties by which they beat us at Deepdale?
 
     All week I kept thinking of Derby’s last minute equaliser, games we should have won, chances we have missed, Paterson’s perfectly good goal at Charlton. But I kept coming back to the one same thought, that if it is our own shortcomings that eventually cost us, it will be those two penalties at Preston that leave a nasty taste.

     All week I pondered on the starting line-up. Williams has been looking more and more suspect, is it not time to bring Duff back in? Exactly what do you do with Eagles and how best do you play him? Is Elliot not far better at wide right than in midfield? Will Thompson be back in contention? Will Carlisle continue his incredible run of form and scoring at vital moments? Are we not more potent when we are 4 4 2 and start with both Paterson and Rodriguez? At some point in the game should we not unleash the power and muscle of McDonald?

         Many of us will remember that last Sunday game of the season, (was it 2002), when under Stan Ternent we were denied a top six place by just one goal as Coventry’s Hedman made those two stunning saves from Gazza’s free kicks in the dieing moments. After the game was over I sat in my seat for 15 minutes or so just numbed. I had a lump in my throat for days afterwards. I’ve kept thinking about it all this week.
 
     Today then was not about entertainment, it was about winning. Nothing but a win would preserve a place in the top six play-offs. Preston will not slip up against QPR I kept telling myself, they are the in-form side that have come up on the outside.

     Three teams were in the mix for the last two places; Cardiff, Burnley and Preston. My hunch was that one would win, one would draw and one would lose. My gut feeling was that Preston would win, Burnley would draw and Cardiff would lose. It’s what we fans do isn’t it, ponder on the permutations, try and figure out the odds, worry and fret about the outcomes, try and work out what the final table will be. Six sets of fans up at the top end must have been on pins on Saturday night. Only Wolves people could have slept easy.  Joy or disappointment, elation or dejection, head in hands, or hands high in exultation at the final whistle?

      This was no night for me to be sat head in hands anyway, streaming with cold, a fiery throat and a barking cough. Dammit I thought I’m there tomorrow if she has to carry me up the stairs. I’ve heard of people signing themselves out of hospitals, limping in with broken legs and arms, to get to a game that must not be missed. I’ll just pack ten extra hankies and God help anyone sitting next to me. I spent the night watching Barcelona demolish Real Madrid 6 – 2 and Henry back to his imperious best. Where have I seen this kind of magic football before, I thought? Oh yeh, us at our best in the first half at Tottenham. I watched Barcelona score some lovely goals but then thought I’ve seen us score some just as good. I wondered if the Burnley lads were watching this wherever they were staying. What was Yosser’s immortal line in Boys from the Blackstuff? “I can do that.”

     I went to bed thinking that the Premiership could be just four games away. It took an age to nod off. It could have been the cough and cold. It could have been genuine nerves. It could have been wanting Sunday to come as soon as possible. The people at the Bad Beat Banquet were the lucky ones. The night passed away enjoyably and quickly for them. Confidence and bullishness for them might have come from camaraderie and a few scoops, and no doubt a few rousing speeches.
 
      I nodded off and I think the last drowsy thought was that there would be people all over the UK and in faraway corners of the world thinking the same as me. Then there was some peculiar dream that in some time zones this game would already have been played so some people would know already if we had won or lost.
    
SUNDAY and another performance like the one against Sheffield United desperately needed, the run of the ball, that little bit of luck, good referee decisions, big performances.
  
     This time last year was a nothing game if I remember rightly but became one of the most fun packed games I have ever seen. Do you remember it? We got a free book, we had six goals; it was Burnley 3 Cardiff City 3 and it was a game where we gifted Cardiff three pantomime goals each one dafter than the one preceding it. Plus we had the wonderful Andy Cole Keystone Cops routine where Andy and then everyone else with a pair of legs ran up into the tunnel in pursuit of Darren Purse who had nearly sliced Andy’s leg in half. Andy chased Purse, management chased Andy, stewards chased management, and the police chased everybody. We all fell about laughing. And of course while all this was going on, so was the game. Save for the parachutist landing on the Cricket Field Stand roof and Ade head butting the Sunderland player on his debut I have seldom been more royally entertained. But, entertainment be damned today I thought, lets just win.
 

     From the first minute Burnley came out like an express train. For several minutes we ripped Bristol apart, made chances, had shots and eventually a fizzing move ended with Eagles hitting a screaming, rising drive against the woodwork with such ferocity it was a wonder it didn’t shatter the crossbar. For a while Bristol then came back into it but at last a good referee decision when Elliot was clobbered in the back of the neck as he burst into the area and went sprawling. Obvious though it was; I suspect there are some refs who would have waved play on. Alexander smashed home the penalty. Just minutes later a corner was headed out to Elliot who sent a superb cross shot through a dozen bodies into the net. It would have graced last night’s Barcelona game. The ground erupted. Unless we did anything stupid the game was won, the play-off place in our hands. We looked at the scoreboard and pinched ourselves.
 
     Bristol had a good spell in the second half but rarely tested Jensen. And then the second penalty came for a glaring, almost comedy handball. Alexander smashed it into the other side of the goal this time. There is talk that he must surely be Europe’s deadliest and most consistent penalty taker. I wouldn’t argue.   
     From then on it was party time despite the bitter cold and a bit of carnival football. Blake who had been a willing ‘worker’ team member rather than a star until this point came into his own. One run down the left touchline right in front of us was mesmerising as he beat man after man in a dazzling run. His feet work sometimes like no other players’ can. It was worth the entrance money alone.
 
     Gudjonnson profited from Eagles’ skills as he lashed home an Eagles shot that the goalkeeper saved. Mention for Eagles here; he had a superb game on the right for the full 90 minutes. Twice he hit the crossbar though the second time there was some infringement that would have ruled out any goal.   

     Alexander was awarded man of the match. But for me it could have been Eagles, or Kalvanes, or Carlisle until his injury up against the mammoth, blundering Adebola. Lumbering and lolloping he may be but he was a real handful. There were some huge performances today from some, and very good performances from all of the rest. They were up for it and the rewards deservedly came.

     How blessed we are with rich, attacking talent on days like this. But, not only did we win; we won with style, flair, panache and entertainment. When Elliot runs at defences be it from midfield or wide right he creates constant panic amongst anyone marking him and can beat a man easily. The non-stop Paterson must be a nightmare to mark. Blake’s close control at times is simply bewitching. Chris Eagles on form is unstoppable – unless you flatten him which happened several times today. And coming up in support are Kalvanes and McCann, and so nice to see Thompson back again. And at the back the two rocks – Carlisle and Caldwell.
 
     But there are worries. Carlisle and Elliot went off with injuries. They are two key players. We can only hope the news is good. Williams it is said must return to Middlesbrough, the loan spell is up. Resources are now stretched to the limit. But there is one good thing. We don’t have to face the odious Morgan’s elbows in the next two games. Preston will have to cope with them.
 
     Of course the numpties with mental ages of 7 and less ran onto the pitch at the end of the game. What idiots they are ignoring the requests to keep off the pitch. Fortunately it was short-lived. And then the team came out led by Coyle. Three packed sides of the ground rose in acclaim. At times this season there has been a real bond between players and supporters. It was there in the parade, tangible and genuine.
 
     What a wonderful season it has been, we have all been part of something very, very special and it ain’t over yet. The Wembley scenario is now so fascinating. It could be Burnley versus Preston North End in the £40million lottery game. Who would have thought of that a day or a week or a month ago?

     “Football, bloody hell.” Who said that immortal line? Probably all of us as we wandered home today. 
     
Dave Thomas May 3rd 2009

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