Trotting Home - Judas and the Silver Service
Author: H. Pedersen / Date: Thursday 28 January 2010
Bolton turn a corner into the safety of lower mid table, as Judas-cum-Moses eyes the silver lining in the promised land. Or something.
Wednesday morning, 5 A.M. I awoke early for the mid-week Bolton Wanderers vs. Burnley F.C. game. I was tired, of course, and yet I was happy (and not just because I was fixing myself an Asian Bloody Mary - soy sauce and wasabi replacing Worcestershire sauce and horseradish). For the first time in what seemed like ages, I was optimistic about a Bolton game. No, it was not new manager Owen Coyle's first game in charge, but it was his first WINNABLE game. Seeing him with the team in the tunnel was a pleasant reminder that the last few weeks and the sacking of Gary Megson weren't just some beautiful dream. Of course, the Burnley fans would have loved to turn it into a nightmare, with their 'JUDAS' signs and chants. One fellow brandished a sign reading 'Coyle: never forgiven, never forgotten.' Sir, if you are reading this, please find a better hobby.
Contrary to reports, Coyle was not bold enough to insert new loan signing Vladimir Weiss directly into the starting lineup. Matty Taylor continued his campaign for mediocrity on the left-hand side. Behind him, in an unfamiliar position, was jack of all trades, master of throwing the ball really far Sam Ricketts. Burnley's new manager, not Owen Coyle, did not surprise me with his starting XI as I had no idea who any of their players were to begin with. Somebody named Graeme Alexei (Alexander - Ed), however, was about to set the record for the oldest player in Premier League history at 97 years, 42 days.
Bolton started brightly, moving the ball into Burnley's box within seconds. Burnley were clearly letting their emotions get the better of them in this highly charged match-up. They fouled, they whined, they petulantly kicked the ball away. Karma, as the saying goes, is a bitch. After Somebody In A Claret Shirt elbowed Klasnic in the face, Klasnic fell backwards into Some Irsishman. This apparently caused an injury to Some Irishman, as his was promptly replaced by Some Scotsman. Klasnic, in true Bolton fashion, got up before the other guy.
Alexei nearly made an impression moments later, drilling in a low cross that was met by Mikhail Dork, who missed the target entirely. Shortly thereafter, Graeme Alexei became the oldest player to be substituted in a Premier League game at 97 years, 42 days, 15 minutes. He was replaced by . . . hell if I know.
Bolton were by far the more threatening team, and should have been ahead after 17 minutes. A clever flick from Taylor - his last meaningful contribution to the game - played in Muamba who, to the surprise of no-one, blazed over when one-on-one with Burnley keeper Bart Johnson.
Dear Mr. Coyle,
Please inform Mr. Muamba that he should never again take a shot and should instead dive whenever in possession of the ball in the box. Nobody will suspect him of diving, as the English don't do that. Just ask Steven Gerrard.
Sincerely,
H. Pedersen.
Recently Coyle had been linked with Burnley central defender Clare Carlight. Bolton fans around the globe prayed that this was simply an example of lazy journalism as Carlight inexplicably headed the ball out of the hands of his keeper and over the bar. Gary Cahill just missed the ensuing corner. At the other end, Burnley's Useless Record Signing drilled the ball at Jaaskelainen, who could only parry it to That Creepy Dracula Looking Kid From Man U. Fortunately, TCDLKFMU blazed his shot embarrassingly off target, a feat repeated at the other end by Kevin Davies.
Davies made amends though, with a clever chip to the outstanding Lee Chung-Yong, who smashed the ball over the onrushing Bart Johnson and off the underside of the bar. Full credit to the troll-like linesman, who correctly adjudged Lee onside and correctly adjudged the ball to have crossed the line. Burnley did not raise their game, although they had a good chance when Tamir Cohen committed a foul just outside the penalty box.
After 43 minutes, I realised David Nugent was playing.
Five minutes after half-time, the largely ineffective and apparently injured Ivan Klasnic was substituted for Johan Elmander, who went on a one-man mission to foul everything in claret and blue. The game plunged into insipidness. Lee, still the brightest player on either side, drilled in a cross which was deflected onto the post, and Cohen headed over following a succession of Ricketts long throws. Cohen was lucky to still be walking after a horrendous kick from Wayne Eliott, which was closer to a karate blow than a tackle. Eliott, inexplicably, escaped punishment, though he was already on a yellow card. Meanwhile, according to the BBC, "Johan Elmander takes a shot. Matthew Taylor gets a block in." Oops.
Not Owen Coyle threw on new loan signing Nmnmnm Ngglgl with 25 minutes to go. After 70 minutes, which is a record, Zat Knight had his first moment of madness, dithering on a ball in the box, but nothing came of it mercifully. To his credit, Knight had been superb to that point.
Coyle proved once again that he isn't Gary Megson by taking off Matthew Taylor and replacing him with Ricardo Gardner, who did more in his first two minutes than Taylor did in 77. He drove into the box and forced Johnson into a good save. For the rest of the game, Bolton's lead came under very little pressure. When Wiess came on for Lee, he nutmegged two players and got a cross in, ensuring that, even if he never makes another appearance, he is the new Andranik Teymourian Phantom Messiah.
The truth is that we beat a poor team whose away form is terrible. They never really threatened us and Bolton never really got going either. But to see the celebrations between the back five, who kept their first league clean sheet of the season, you'd have thought we just outplayed Brazil in Rio. I smiled, laid down on the couch, and fluffed my pillow to watch the next game, confident that Rafa Benitez's Liverpool would help me drift back to sleep.
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