So one round of games and one up-close lion's-mauling later, and long before it could or should be, the Big 4/5/6/7/8 talk has eclipsed into, well, nausea for yours truly. (And the more games City wins, the more it will induce.) It's here where FSC's programming tendencies become curiously fruitful where they weren't, say, last year while they were documenting nearly every week of Newcastle's collapse, like a committed tabloid with Warren Barton as lead reporter. Now, this season? How about Burnley's first big league game in three decades on the road in the country's loudest stadium against, well, last year's Burnley, for lack of the better -- in these early stages, 'tis a boxcar definitely worth a chase.
Stoke themselves have aspirations as daunting as City's or Spurs' or Everton's or even Villa's, of sustaining and maintaining, only not in just a particular high tax bracket but in the entire Wild-West reenactment that is the Premier League. How Tony Pulis has elected to tackle this, via a presumed "anti-football", often brings out the picketers en masse, all of whom seem too caught up in reprimanding while forgetting this might just be what they're all really clamoring for. And no, I'm not here as a Stoke apologist (or maybe I am, I don't even know anymore), for it's quite plain to see they do get caught hailing Mary far too often in their motions. Their opener, too, isn't going to cease anyone from proclaiming them the Dependents of the Set Piece, and much of the game featured Burnley's [hopefully just an] impression of West Brom's poor man's impression of Arsenal from last year -- i.e. lots of slick passing to anywhere but the back of the net, all of which Stoke seemed content to simply absorb without complaint.
But see, all sophomore-pulling-the-freshman's-skivvies-over-his-head analogies aside, that equals a clean sheet for Stoke, and further it's three points, that many points closer to another year's sustenance amongst the big boys. Burnley were trendy, played possession, played "good" football, played "Barca" football -- looked good in it too -- and still will probably go down next year, like the Baggies (and others) before them. Stoke emerged from the swamp last year not only safe but in 12th, all while prescribing the "anti-". Now, call me old-fashioned, but shouldn't somebody play a successful version of "anti-", if only be it for placeholding purposes? If anything, this is more "anti-establishment" than "-football". And at least Pulis' vision of it is peacocked enough in itself. A player policy of "No one under this height [6'0] may ride this ride" to accommodate, so that at times they resemble a band of rude uncles keeping a toy held high above their beleaguered niece's or nephew's reach. Note too the constituents; amongst others' teamsheets that read like UN assemblies, Pulis has grown a pine forest of basically Englishmen, Irishmen, and Senegalesemen, plus a Jamaican who happens to be good for a fit of goosebumps or two amongst all the long-and-tall ball. Even if it's by bitchslapping his captain mid-game.
And of course, The Throw is still present, leaving aneurysms in its wake. That suspension of time during the aforementioned hailing of Mary, the one stretched far past necessary by sports screenwriters everywhere? Same shit applies for every Stoke throw within a sniff of the box. It's mainly that trajectory, oh lord how I'd forgotten her -- low, slow, like the perfect Wakefield pitch every time. There's been replicas abound, but not one near close to as successful or triumphant. Burnley fell victim likely out of debut, yes; but I'd argue it's the kind of ace-up-sleeve that can't be planned against anyway, forever sullying box scores with own goal after own goal. It's too erratic. A gimmick. It's the Wildcat offense. It keeps Stoke City from being written in legalese. It's also kept them from the hell of relegation. And it's mainly just another reason why it's fantastic having the Premier League back, even though it had barely been gone long at all.
