If Neil Critchley was having any second thoughts about taking on the QPR manager role, the team gave those doubts a thorough working over with a miserable Sunday afternoon performance against Burnley.
You do, sometimes, just have to hold your hands up high in the sky and admit you were well and deservedly beaten by a much better side.
Out of the stagnant malaise that was the latter part of Sean Dyche’s long reign at Turf Moor has flourished an unrecognisable team, packed with pace and invention, that loves being on the ball in all areas of the field, and is currently rattling along at just shy of two goals per game. Fears that such a radical turnaround from the unashamed pragmatism of Dyche to the Pep-lite idealism of Vincent Kompany would take longer than one off-season have been swept aside, aided considerably by nearly £70m worth of player sales in the summer which have given the former Belgium captain a war chest to comprehensively reshape his side. The Clarets are top of the Championship, have scored the most goals in the Championship, have lost only two games all season in the Championship, and will win the Championship this season at something of a canter if all evidence to this point is to be believed. We’re going to talk about a few things over the next couple of thousand words, and point a few fingers here and there, but it’s important to acknowledge we were playing a good side, that the division as a whole is struggling to live with — nine wins from 11, one defeat in 21 tells its own story.
Queens Park Rangers will point to two early refereeing decisions that skewed the scoreline against them. Every inmate inside Ice Station Zebra was surprised to see George Thomas named in caretaker boss Paul Hall’s first, and only, starting 11, and that apparently included the Burnley players as well because barely 30 seconds into the game he reached a loose ball in the penalty box first and toed it away from goalkeeper Arijanet Muric who then clattered into him for an obvious penalty. Referee Peter Bankes, on secondment from the Premier League, had not positioned himself well enough to see the incident, took a long hard look at his linesman, froze, bottled it, and awarded a goal kick instead.
Later, at the opposite end of the ground, Jack Cork got to a piece of loose possession first himself, shifting it away from stricken defenders in similar style to Thomas, and then flopping over contact he anticipated arriving from Andre Dozzell. Unlike the Thomas incident, no such contact was forthcoming, Dozzell called his bluff, and the Burnley man was so sure he was going to be yellow carded for a dive he immediately leapt up and starting shaking his head and his hands about acknowledging that there had been no foul. Bankes awarded the free kick regardless, Johann Gudmundsson reverse swept the opportunity into the opposite top corner for one nil.
Half an hour into a Championship match with a professional, top flight referee, and every big decision in the game had been incorrect. Given the money sloshing around in the sport in this country now, some of which could surely be used for the recruitment, training and retention of a broader, better pool of match officials, the standard and ability of the people they’ve actually got refereeing it should shame everybody involved.
Plenty of mitigation then. A well resourced and talented opposition, running hot at the top of the form table, leading the division in goals and points, confident and free in their thoughts. QPR nursing injuries to key players, in lousy form with self-belief visibly draining away. Burnley managed by a genuine superstar of the game, QPR not managed at all — under the caretaker charge of a 50-year-old who’s yet to hold down a number one role at any other club but did once score against us for Rushden and Diamonds. Two key refereeing decisions wrong, reverse those and it’s a different game and certainly a better atmosphere than the morgue-like silence the game was actually played in. But I’m afraid my wells of sympathy for my team are rather dry today.
You cannot turn up to any game at this level of professional sport, let alone one against arguably the best side in the division, with this level of intensity. You cannot be this meek and timid, this weak and scared, this physically cowed, and expect any opponent worth their salt to do anything other than hand you your own arse. If you are this sloppy with the ball, this careless with your possession, this slapdash with the very basics of the sport, then sooner or later the other team will punish you for that — and it was always likely to be sooner against this lot. The visitors should have been in front after a minute when Nathan Tella ran clean through on goal unchecked and got a fancy chip over Seny Dieng badly wrong.
Despite the constant erosion by the laws of the game and their interpretation by a collection of inept officials, football remains a physical sport. Flicks, tricks, skills, magical moments and outright genius score goals, win matches, make memories, and see our sport Christened ‘the beautiful game’. But success in football will always be built on a platform of running, tackling, competing, winning your duels, dominating in the air, Warbs Warburton’s first contact and second balls. If you’re not willing to do that - if you can’t be arsed to run, if you’re too weak to tackle, if you think the basics are beneath you - you will be beaten, you will be beaten well, and you will deserve it. There are bare minimum standards a football team has to reach to stand a chance in a game, and frankly a list of givens a home crowd is entitled to expect of a group of handsomely paid footballers, and QPR, in the first half on Saturday at least, fell far short of all of these. You cannot be as pathetically limp as this and come off at half time moaning about refereeing decisions. Teams far, far less talented than Burnley would have won this game easily.
Rangers deserved to be two nil down at the break, and they were two nil down at the break courtesy of a goal preventable at multiple points by any one of four or five players being a bit stronger, a bit more committed, a bit fiercer in the tackle, a bit more wily with a tactical foul, a bit quicker to react to the danger, or just a bit more competent at their fucking day job. Watch for Willock’s lazy dangled leg on halfway as a more committed opponent forces himself onto the situation and wins the ball in the first place. Watch how Burnley work the ball in field past Laird, Dozzell, Dunne and Iroegbunam, all of whom could have attempted a tackle or committed a tactical foul. Watch for Seny Dieng parrying a long range speculator he sees all the way straight to an opponent. Watch for the speed of Burnley’s reactions compared to QPR’s. Ian Maatsen’s finish on the rebound was terrific, but fuck me dead, you’ve got to be so much better than this. Personal and professional pride have to come into it at some stage. Jimmy Dunne going and grabbing the ball from prolonged Burnley celebrations sparking a minor scuffle was the first hint of bollocks Rangers had shown all afternoon. I felt like I was watching a Burnley training session.
Willock, who’d earlier spooned Rangers’ best chance of the half high over the bar, was an eye-catching name for the half time hook, but can have no complaints. He clearly trusts his hamstring as much as I trust a cabinet minister on the morning press round, but that’s no excuse for being this half arsed.
With Thomas and Willock off for Mide Shodipo and Albert Adomah, QPR did at least start to get a little bit further up the pitch. Lyndon Dykes, one of only two or three whose work rate and commitment to the cause could not be questioned yesterday, almost got a reward for his toil when Muric dallied over a pass back long enough for him to close down the eventual clearance, but the rebound fell to Shodipo and he promptly set off at speed in the opposite direction. The only way QPR could stem the tide of mounting lost possession stats, sometimes from things as basic as passing the ball straight to an opponent from our own free kicks, was to go backwards, and so they did that a lot. Shodipo later showed what could be achieved by going forwards, drawing a long overdue booking for Cork and a free kick which Dunne headed over at the back post. Their best chance to get back into the game fell the way of Sam Field, another who I’d perhaps give half a hall pass to for his efforts, and he struck a half volley so sweetly it flew too true, hit Muric and flew behind without the keeper knowing a thing about it.
Caretaker managers always present an interesting dynamic. Have they been sitting in their day job, looking up at the main man, thinking he’s getting things wrong? What would they do differently? John Hollins, briefly succeeding Stewart Houston at Loftus Road, made a point of dropping all his Arsenal signings. Gary Waddock, thrust to the front of the Gianni Paladini farce, was openly disparaging about the style of football played by Ian Holloway, driving a rift between the two who’d previously worked together which bubbled over on the touchline at Home Park the following season when Olly was in charge of Plymouth. What had Paul Hall been thinking all this time — particularly given the internal politics of last season between his group of coaches and Mark Warburton’s first team set up? Starting George Thomas and taking Chris Willock off at half time was as radical as it got from the Jamaican national boss. He tossed and turned with the idea of bringing Sinclair Armstrong on for a thick ten minutes, and by the time he finally bit down on that bullet it was too late anyway because Burnley had made it three. Tella’s strike from a narrow angle was the most defensively shambolic of the lot, scored directly off Jimmy Dunne’s fucking daft attempt at a chest back to his goalkeeper which the pair of them bollocksed up completely, but again a goal that could easily have been prevented at half a dozen different points — again watch for contributions to this one from Field, Shodipo, Jake Clarke-Salter having a walkabout for himself, Kenneth Paal and ultimately Dunne and Dieng. Half the team culpable. Not a goal a professional football team should have any business conceding. Pathetic stuff.
Armstrong, like Shodipo before him, did at least frighten Burnley a little bit with his speed but, also like Shodipo before him, the final ball was often lacking. Still, after watching Beyer give it the Bertie Big Potatoes routine all afternoon with not a single comeback from anybody, it was nice to see Armstrong give him a strong "I really wouldn’t” stare down after a little flare up on the South Africa Road touchline. At this point just the vaguest hint of care about how badly this was going, something by way of a physical response, somebody kicking somebody, was all I was really looking for. Ethan Laird giving it the full Scott Sinclair and jumping so high out of one tackle I thought he was going to land on the Uxbridge Road and have to pay to get back in darkened my mood considerably. I’m sorry, but there was some unforgiveable stuff went on yesterday, I don’t care how good the opposition are or how unduly miserable you think I’m being.
Actually having some men in the penalty box for crosses helped — one scramble was almost forced home at the back post by Dykes. But Brownhill’s clear run on the goal at the other end really should have made it 4-0 and that would have been a fairer reflection on the game. They’d achieved it in, at most, third gear. I’d say it looked like some horribly mismatched FA Cup Third Round tie, but then the underdogs do tend to at least run around and kick a few people in those circumstances. This was actually more like a World Cup break practice game for them before the real action starts next week. I found it fairly embarrassing.
Queens Park Rangers must tread carefully from here. The best thing about them, at this moment, is they’ve posted 31 points from their first 22 games. The chances of them posting another 31 in the remaining 24 fixtures, while playing like this, do not exist. They are non-existent. Even if it were achieved, and Rangers were able to lift their total to 62 points, that would only be good enough for 13th position in three of the last four seasons. At this moment I’d take your hand off for that and not come again.
QPR have been as bad as often as they’ve been good so far in 2022/23, and the Shepherd’s Bush faithful have ummed and ahhed along with their adulterous manager about what sort of team and season this might turn out to be. But, while he was always doing that at the same time as casting admiring glances over his shoulder at whatever escape route was trundling past at the time, we are now stuck with the answer. A team playing with such flair and imagination a matter of weeks ago, have now taken one point and scored one goal from six games. You could make bits and pieces of excuses for all of them, and I try my best to be fair here, but let’s be exactly that — the only team we’ve beaten in seven matches now is Wigan, and they deserved at least a point from that game.
Preston, so impressive at Blackburn on Saturday, lie in wait in a snowy northern awayday next week — never one we do well with even when tidings are glad. Cardiff away, Luton, Sheff Utd, a frozen FA Cup upset-waiting-to-happen at Fleetwood… This doesn’t immediately scream a lot of points and wins and success and hope to me. What Rangers need to get results from such challenges are their best players, fit, and available: Ilias Chair remains a paid spectator at the World Cup, Stefan Johansen is brilliant in the one game every two months he’s fully fit to start but that was not today, and Chris Willock of glass hamstring fame. Tyler Roberts, bit cold; Luke Amos, bit shy; Leon Balogun, bit busy liking Fox News talking points on socials… It all feels a little bit sleep walky. A bit of a malaise. This is a big pick up job for a new manager. There’s some shoulders to be hugged, sure, but there’s some skulls to be rattled too.
Neil Critchley worked wonders with no money at Blackpool, playing attractive and attacking football through a League One promotion into a solid Championship consolidation last season. Having recovered their club from the clutches of Big Rapey Owen and the gang, he was able to galvanise, cultivate, grow and weaponize that steely determination of the public up there and turn it to the advantage of the team. The atmosphere at Bloomfield Road for our game last season was as good as I’ve experienced in this division, and we were singularly fortunate to escape from that game with a draw thanks to a combination of Willock brilliance and refereeing incompetence. That’s exactly what QPR need at this moment in time, and we saw little more than a month ago that this team does have the potential if its collective head is in the right place. But you only have to look around the place yesterday, and listen, to know there’s a hell of a job on here.
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QPR: Dieng 4; Laird 5, Dunne 5, Clarke-Salter 4, Paal 6; Field 6, Dozzell 5 (Armstrong 76, 6), Iroegbunam 5; Thomas 4 (Shodipo 46, 6), Dykes 6, Willock 4 (Adomah 46, 5)
Subs not used: Kakay, Dickie, Archer, Richards
Bookings: Iroegbunam 56 (foul)
Burnley: Muric 6; Vitinho 7, Harwood-Bellis 7, Beyer 7, Maatsen 8 (Taylor 89, -); Cork 7 (Churlinov 89, -), Cullen 8; Gudmundsson 7 (Manuel 74, 6), Brownhill 8, Tella 8 (Twine 89, -); Rodriguez 7 (Barnes 81, -)
Subs not used: Peacock-Farrell, Bastien
Goals: Gudmundsson 17 (free kick, won Cork), Maatsen 45+2 (assisted Vitinho), Tella 71 (unassisted)
Bookings: Cork 52 (foul), Cullen 90+2 (foul)
QPR Star Man — Mide Shodipo 6 Three haired man in the land of the bald.
Referee — Peter Bankes (Merseyside) 4 Premier League referee, given a nice little outing with some idiot scum like us to warm him up for the real quiz return of The Best League In The World next week — approached it in exactly that manner, lacking the levels of concentration and sharpness for the level, behaving as if the whole thing would be a bit of a breeze for him, and was caught out and exposed for this twice in the first 20 minutes with two dreadful decisions that swung the early score Burnley’s way. He’ll know it as well. He can shrug off the dissent, give it all the high fives and smarmy laugh with his assistants on the way off at half time, but when he’s alone with his thoughts this week, driving his car, standing in the shower, laid in bed, he’ll know deep down he took this lightly and ended up looking a tit for it. When you're standing there insisting it's a free kick when even the bloke on the floor is telling you it's not that's a bit of a low point.
Attendance — 14,299 (2,000 Burnley approx.) Just about as quiet as I can ever remember the place. The day, the kick off time, the weather, the context, the form, the England result all contributed to this of course, and if you’re going to be jumping out of tackles and putting up resistance this weak then don’t expect me to be singing a fucking song about it. But part of the size of the job Critchley faces here was writ large on the face of everybody in the ground on Sunday. People are resigned, people are pissed off, people feel let down, and post Beale people have a very low tolerance threshold for any more bullshit. All that media-friendly spin and guff about how much good the break has done the players, how raring to go they all are, how well they’ve responded to Paul Hall etc etc etc disintegrated the second they then came out and played like this. Five months of Mick Beale has left QPR fans very, very weary of being outright lied to. Hall did at least drop all that act in his post match and say exactly what I’ve said here — QPR’s performance dipped below acceptable standards for this club — but if I did have a tip for the new man from here it’s that we’ve had our fill for this season. Stop shitting in my mouth and telling me it’s a fucking Easter Egg.
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