Another defeat without scoring on the pitch as Burnley boosted their play off chances with a 1-0 win, off the pitch how would we fare on our second visit to this part of the world in three months?

1 – The Match
A lazier sod than me may have taken to just copying and pasting these sections. QPR were beaten without scoring in a mediocre Championship match, the tally of games without scoring continues to mount and in truth Rangers rarely troubled Brian Jensen in the home goal. There was a new man in charge of QPR once again as Gareth Ainsworth started his second caretaker spell of the season but he remained seated in the dug out impassively watching his beleaguered team for the most part. Returning hero Rowan Vine hit the post early on but had long since been flagged offside and Lee Cook side footed a presentable late chance wide of the post but apart from that it was all Burnley and only good goalkeeping from Radek Cerny restricted the home side to one. The goal when it came was tinged with controversy as Chris Eagles appeared to flick Clarke Carlisle’s header into the net with his hand after a Blake corner but McCann hit the post from the one before that and Burnley were much the better side so it seemed churlish to complain. Just to rub salt in the wounds the top Clarets player on the day was our old charge Clarke Carlisle.
5/10

2 – QPR Performance
Same old, same old. At the end of a very difficult week at Loftus Road the players deserve credit for not rolling over and dying against a reasonably impressive Burnley side. Rangers certainly set about their task with some vim and vigour and Rowan Vine cracked the post early on but Burnley quickly came back into the game and only the stubbornness of a visiting defence that had Matt Connolly and Kaspars Gorkss impressive at its heart and some decent keeping by Radek Cerny prevented them taking the lead before they did. With Sam Di Carmine starting and a series of second half substitutions leaving QPR with six midfielders on the pitch and no forwards, as if the deficiencies in our squad needed highlighting further, the visitors posed little goal threat. Lee Cook’s late chance would only have papered over cracks had he sidefooted it inside instead of past the post.
5/10

3 - QPR Support
Tiny and silent. London to Burnley is an awkward trip at the best of times when there is something at stake but with the season long since over and the events of the previous seven days culminating in the departure of Paulo Sousa it seemed many of the usual regulars couldn’t be bothered, and even those that did make the effort sat silently resigned to their fate. I’d say there were actually less people there than travelled for the FA Cup replay in the middle of January and I cannot recall a single song all afternoon. Still, hard not to have some admiration for those that made the trip regardless of the farce and almost certain defeat.
5/10

4 - Atmosphere
Despite the small and quiet away following Turf Moor was a totally different place to what it was January when large sections of the ground were closed and the game was played in an atmosphere more appropriate for a reserve match. Burnley had laid on a ticket promotion, not extended to the away fans I might add which considering there was only about 200 of us was a little bit mean in my opinion, and that had the crowds flocking in for this crucial game in their play off push. The atmosphere among the home fans was loud and proud up to their goal after which, strangely, they all seemed to get terribly nervous and ratty with each other and their team. QPR wouldn’t have scored if we were still playing now and yet the look of sheer terror could clearly be seen etched across many faces in the stands to our left and right. The realisation that they were going to win only seemed to dawn again in stoppage time when the noise picked up again.
7/10

5 - The Ground
Turf Moor is split half and half between the old and the new. Down one touchline and behind the goal at the far end there are two fairly new and quite impressive two tiered stands offering unobstructed views close to the pitch. Down the other two sides are a couple of stands that look like they have been there almost since the club was formed. The shed like main stand, with bizarre smoking chimney at one end, is a real insight into how football used to be while the away end at the cricket club end of the ground is disgusting. There isn’t an unobstructed view in the whole place and the concourse area down below is pitch blank, damp and freezing cold at all times of the year. It needs ripping apart basically, or at least cleaning, and it’s a nasty place to watch football from. Burnley have also, bizarrely, stuck a giant big screen slap bang in the middle of the away end seats which had no effect whatsoever on the 200 from Loftus Road but I wonder how many seats it takes up and how many more views it obstructs for games like Preston when the away end would be full. Still, give me a place like Turf Moor ahead of one of the soulless identikit stadiums taking over the division any day of the week.
6/10

6 - The Journey
A lesson for Flavio perhaps - it’s important when you’re making a mistake to realise and rectify as soon as possible before it manifests itself. God did I make a mistake with the arrangements for this one. I’ve got a bit of a mental thing about going to Burnley because it’s the only ground I have ever been to and missed a kick off after the infamous buffet car fire incident of 2001 where we arrived 40 minutes into the match and were already two down. Consequently I have always liked to give myself plenty of time whenever we have been here since. With that in mind, and a desire to have a bit of breakfast in Leeds and see Liverpool v Blackburn at lunch time, I worked it back and decided we would get the train from Barnetby (between Grimsby and Scunthorpe) at quarter to eight.

It was only when the alarm went off at half past six on Saturday morning that I started to wonder whether I was being a bit too over cautious with my timing. I mean Burnley is less than a hundred miles from Scunthorpe and here we were getting up at the break of dawn to head over there by train. It was a point made rather more forcefully by Young Clive who was less than impressed at being dragged out of bed earlier than the QPR fans coming from London. Instead of admitting the mistake and going back to bed for a couple of hours I insisted we ploughed on and so by 10am we were already at Leeds. I got my breakfast, but it was the most disgusting thing I have ever been near in my life as I will come onto shortly, and after that we set off for Burnley, arriving in town at the slightly excessive time of 1155.

Going back, equipped with the usual packed lunch from the Ministry of Ale, is a bit of a blur to be honest. I do remember a small girl looking at us on the platform of Burnley Manchester Road saying “Daddy those boys have got beer. They’re going to fall over.” Which actually turned out to be very accurate, if a little premature. Enfieldargh and Enfield the Younger and NewCrossR were both on the same train back so we were able to run through in great detail the magnificent spectacle we had just witnessed while throwing back Budvar. A one minute connection at Leeds was made with something to spare and an argument with a guard about taking beer on the stopping train to Scunthorpe was won. We spent the final half hour rattling through Crowle and other such metropolis with a very large dog of some sorts laid across our laps. God only knows where it came from or where it went.

After that there are scenes missing, although there was an incident with a bus somewhere along the line, and when I arrived back home I found that I had misplaced a very large and important bunch of keys somewhere along the line. Never mind, another great laugh all in all.
7/10

7 - Pre Match
As stated in the journey section our pre-match was split into two parts - one taking in everything that is good and right about Britain, the other sampling everything that we should fight against and detest. The negative came first. Part of the reason for the very early departure was a desire to have some sort of cooked breakfast in the middle of Leeds. It is a routine we have followed for the games at Burnley, Blackburn and Preston for some time. Sadly though we went for a Wetherspoons, the one on the station, and it was all downhill from there.

People like Wetherspoons firstly because there is a wide selection of ale, and secondly because it’s bloody cheap. Now the latter is only a good thing if the quality is maintained - personally I would suggest that if somebody is offering you two sausages, two eggs, fried bread, two bits of bacon, beans, toast, tomatoes, mushrooms and a coffee for three quid you have got to wonder just how the hell they are doing that. I went for it anyway, and soon found out. Vile just does not even begin to describe what I was served. The sausages, 80 per cent ash, were soft and chewy like a soggy cereal box and actually made me retch as I swallowed them, the eggs were rubbery, the beans had been served as soon as they bubbled once (some people really struggle to cook beans) and were therefore ice cold, the bacon was like chewing a piece of your own shoe and the one giant mushroom I got was so soggy I started to have visions of it being stored down the sweaty crack of the chef’s arse before being served. The real killer for me was the tomatoes - it’s a common misconception that as you’re cooking them anyway it doesn’t matter if they are a bit soft or not kept in a fridge. The one I was served, chopped in half, must have been picked in about 1998 and left on the top of an immersion heater since then. It fell apart on the plate to such an extent I couldn’t skewer it with my fork and then once in my mouth exploded in a hideous, rotten foam of rotting flesh.

Young Clive had sausage and mash in gravy so thick it looked like it could be used as a building material - he took one look at it and left it. Intelligent lad. I have to say I think this will be my last ever trip to a Wetherspoons, certainly to eat. The quality of the food started off badly and has, over the years, descended as the chain has chased low prices through bulk buying rather than quality. I cannot even begin to describe the quality of the meat we were served in this meal. I’m tempted to say ‘and to think an animal lost its life for that’ but I’m not sure it did. If anything not created in a laboratory went into that sausage it was well hidden. Absolutely disgusting.

So, an hour later after a lovely train journey through the peaks, we arrived in Burnley and the alternative to this soulless chain gangs. The Ministry of Ale is a white and green building just across the main road from Burnley Manchester Road station. It does not look like a pub at first glance and is easily missed but to do so would be a crime - if travelling by train to this part of the world treat yourself to a stop over, even if it is just for a swift half. As you enter the bar it’s left into the seating area, and right into the brewery. They have numerous brewing devices in one of the rooms churning out the ales that they serve in a variety wider and more varied than anything you’re likely to find anywhere in the country. The lunch time match was screened on a plasma hanging off one wall and the pub filled up and then emptied out again several times as trains arrived at the nearby station. We met up with new Cross R in there purely by chance and with bottles of Budvar flowing forth and Liverpool playing well on the box it was a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend a couple of hours. Young Clive ordered the pie and peas which got a decent review from him and certainly looked a lot better than the slop we had been served earlier.

After the match we went back in for a swift one while watching the results and then took a few bottles with us for the train home. The staff are always warm and welcoming, there is a good mix of home and away fans and the Burnley lads in there chatted away with us with no problems at all. It’s friendly, the service is good, the locals are chatty, the beer is excellent and varied and the food is decent as well. It’s a good, honest, northern pub and it is always one of the highlights of the season. We really have to offer these places more support rather than immediately migrating to Walkabout and Lloyds Bar. Between this and The Navy in Plymouth for away pub of the year for me.
5/10 (5/5 for the Ministry, 0/5 for Wetherspoons)

8 - Police/Stewards
No real sign of either and nothing to really police. I do like the officer on his box in the middle of the road junction after the match, a glimpse back to a bygone era although you can say that about much of the Turf Moor matchday experience.
8/10
Total - 43/80

Photo: Action Images

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