Months from now, the British greats—Dickens, Shakespeare, Dickens again—will look back on this time and exclaim with awe that they themselves could not have writ a better story. From the brink of relegation, Burnley will have battled back to claim a prized seat at the Europa League table, sending England into a tizzy and Wales into a state of glee (for even the Welsh have been known to love old Burnley). It will be a glorious dash, one spoken of for generations, used to tell children that nothing is beyond the power of their dreams.
And it starts today.
As I type, Leicester and Burnley have kicked off at Turf Moor (translation: home game for Burnley). Britain’s Team isn’t messing around, with a gleam in their eye and a fire in their buttocks. They’re here to make Leicester pay for their sins, specifically the one in which they’re above Burnley in the table.
Look out, EPL.
