Just 2 Minutes From Wembley

Proud to Be a Claret

Article shamelessly lifted from the Telegraph, journalist Henry Winter.

As Burnley’s magnificent fans made their way out of Turf Moor, muttering about how lucky Spurs had been and how proud they were of their claret-and-blue idols, a father tried to console his son. The lad’s hair was damp from the rain and his face moist from the tears. "Their legs went," the father kept saying to the boy, "they’d given everything."
The lad was heart-broken, his mind too confused to take in the reasons for Burnley’s late collapse. He had seen Owen Coyle’s players "climb Everest" in the manager’s opinion, overturning a 4-1 first-leg deficit through goals from Robbie Blake, Chris McCann and Jay Rodriguez.
He had thrilled to see Blake give one of the games of his life, a masterclass of enterprising wing-play. He had watched Joey Gudjonsson, Wade Elliott and McCann hand the atrocious midfield pair of Tom Huddlestone and Didier Zokora a lesson in possession.
The Carling Cup final was within touching distance. The Burnley fan who proposed successfully to his girlfriend at half-time was doubtless planning his honeymoon for London on March 1. Nice hotel, flowers in the room and, what a coincidence, the Carling Cup final against Manchester United on their doorstep.
Wembley was within touching distance, three minutes away but exhaustion was invading Burnley legs, the game was stretching and suddenly the Premier League visitors finally awoke. Barring honourable exceptions like the disciplined and determined Michael Dawson, who battled on with an injury, Tottenham were a disgrace for 117 minutes.
Most of the players were unworthy of wearing that famous shirt or taking home their fabulous wage-packets. Luka Modric resembled a hiker who had wandered in off Pendle Hill, attracted by the bright lights. Chris Gunter was constantly bypassed by Blake. Ben Alnwick, a promising keeper, was a bundle of nerves. Spurs were a mess. Sandra Redknapp could have played in a number of positions and been an improvement.
"I was stood there with a couple of minutes to go, thinking it could be the most embarrassing moment of my football life," reflected Harry Redknapp. As he peered through the rain, Roman Pavlyuchenko pounced, making up for a dreadful earlier miss with a neat finish. Seconds later, Jermain Defoe raced in and Burnley’s dream was truly destroyed by a strike-force that cost nearly £30m. Burnley never deserved this denouement and if the sporting fates have any conscience they will guide Coyle’s side to Wembley in the play-offs.
"It was cruel," said Coyle of the way Burnley were so brutally denied. "It is twists and turns that make us all love football, although I don’t love it tonight. The lads are distraught in the dressing-room but I told them to go out with their heads held high."
Quite right. Arriving with such a comfortable-looking advantage, Spurs had known Burnley would throw everything at them. On a magical night of Cup football when Burnley did the Championship proud, Turf Moor was rocking as Coyle’s men dismantled Redknapp’s side. Even the weather played its part in scripting some drama, a raw wind biting into Tottenham faces in the first half. Within a minute, all the players were soaked, the chill wind lowering body temperatures.
This was a rain-hit, flood-lit night when players’ characters, strong or meek, shone through and Redknapp will worry about the competitive instincts of certain players in contrast to Coyle’s. David Bentley never imposed his undoubted talent, and the former Blackburn Rovers player was venomously booed when he dared clatter Chris Eagles, the Ronaldo of Turf Moor.
Tottenham were poor. When the initially sluggish Benoit Assou-Ekotto overhit a back-pass, Alnwick managed to scramble back and push the ball away. The Spurs fans in the cricket field end were horrified, screaming at the players to raise their game, a request ignored until late on.
Coyle had told his players to be patient, to keep pushing, keep probing, because chances would come. When Jonathan Woodgate fouled Martin Paterson 25 yards out to the right of Alnwick’s goal, Burnley were granted a prime opportunity. Blake placed the ball down while the inexperienced Alnwick demanded a two-man wall.
Modric and O’Hara hardly represent the most formidable of obstacles, even combined, and Blake almost nonchalantly curled his free-kick around them, the ball easily beating Alnwick at his left-hand upright. As Blake sped away in celebration, both Modric and O’Hara turned round and gave Alnwick withering looks.
Having organised the wall, the keeper really should not have been beaten at his near-post but Blake’s brilliance also needed applauding. Alnwick has real potential but it was little surprise to find Spurs being linked with Chelsea’s Carlo Cudicini and Newcastle United’s Steve Harper, although Redknapp said he knew nothing of any interest.
Redknapp gave his players a rocket at the break, a theme that continued in the 50th minute when a firework launched from near the Jimmy McIlroy Stand landed on the pitch and will doubtless be mentioned in Mark Halsey’s report to the Football Association.
A moment of profligacy from Gareth Bale, the Welshman skewing his shot wide, did not appear too costly but then came McCann. Turf Moor has staged some drama down the years, has seen the roof raised on many an emotional occasion but the noise in the 73rd was unbelievable. Blake began the move, twisting Spurs defence into the ground, leaving Chris Gunter and Dawson totally bemused before crossing for McCann to make it 4-3 on aggregate and Turf Moor screaming itself hoarse.
Spurs were shellshocked, riddled with errors and uncertainty, allowing Burnley back in again. When Alnwick fumbled another free-kick from Blake, Rodriguez calmly swept the ball into the net to force extra time. But then came Pavlyuchenko and Defoe. The tears began to flow for Burnley but really their eyes should glisten with pride.

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