The numbers don’t lie.
A three-goal differential is a lot.
Clean sheets are good.
Therefore, Burnley is back.
The haters said a number of things. They said Burnley hadn’t won in over a month. They said getting knocked out of the Football League Cup by Sunderland was embarrassing. They said Bertie wasn’t that cool of a mascot.
The haters were wrong.
Well, they may have been right about the first one. That was a fact.
But it’s a fact no longer, because yesterday, with the whole world watching, Burnley welcomed the West Ham United Hambones the old-fashioned way: by beating them over the head with goals.
From the game’s onset, it was evident this was how things would go. Burnley put three times as many shots on the goal as the Hamate Bones. They drew seven more corners. Ashley Barnes, long may he live, scored in the match’s eleventh minute. Chris Wood, long may he also live but if (God forbid) we’re forced to choose we’re going with Barnes, scored in the match’s 44th minute. Rumors I’m currently starting say the Ham-pton Inns of the soccer world almost left at halftime. Instead, they stuck around and scored—on their own goal.
Now, our beloved Clarets stand in the top half of the table, just two points back from that coveted place in the Europa League. The times are optimistic, and even artificial intelligence seems to be backing Burnley, because I just got an ad for adult diapers, implying I’m going to imminently wet my pants when Burnley shocks Man City in 23 days’ time to prolong what will be, by then, a four-game winning streak.
Burn, baby. Burnley.
