Chapter 4: The End and the Beginning (4)
Fifteen minutes before the official kickoff.
Helena sat in the directors' box at Turf Moor, Burnley's home stadium, looking down at the pitch.
By European football standards, the roughly 22,000-seat stadium was considered small and unrefined.
Yet the sight of home and away fans filling the stands, belting out their respective chants as if the stadium might collapse under the noise, stirred something in Helena's chest—despite her usual indifference to sports.
Of course, the lyrics of the Burnley fans' chant sounded a bit odd even to an outsider like her.
"For ever and ever"
"We'll follow a team"
"It's Burnley FC"
"We are supreme!"
"We'll never be mastered"
"By the Blackburn b***ards"
"And keep the claret flag flying high!"
Helena couldn't figure out why they were singing a chant dissing their local rivals, Blackburn, when they were facing Everton.
As if reading her confusion, John Banaszkiewicz, seated beside her, offered an explanation.
"The fans are happy."
"Happy?"
"Blackburn's in the Championship—the second tier—so we hardly ever face them. If we don't play them, we can't lose to them, and since they're in a lower league, it's basically like we've already won."
Though he tried to sound neutral, John Banaszkiewicz's genial face betrayed a clear satisfaction at being in a higher league than their rivals, Blackburn. Helena barely suppressed a laugh.
Down below, Burnley players were warming up under Kim and Arthur's instructions, while Marcel Brands, Everton's Director of Football, seated on Helena's other side, leaned over to strike up a conversation.
"Is this your first time watching a match at Turf Moor, Helena?"
"Hm? Oh, yes. Actually, it's my first time watching a football match at a stadium at all."
It wasn't just football—she'd never attended any sports event live—but Helena didn't bother elaborating.
The Dutchman in charge of Everton's football operations smiled at her response.
"It's quite a grand spectacle, isn't it?"
"It is."
"You should definitely come to Goodison Park for the return fixture in the second half of the season. Turf Moor's great, but Merseyside fans can really show you what passion looks like."
"Hmph…!"
On her other side, John Banaszkiewicz, a Lancashire native, let out a faint scoff at the praise for Merseyside fans.
Still unfamiliar with England's regional identities and rivalries, Helena decided to quietly observe the match amid the unspoken competition between the two men.
---
A few blocks from Burnley Football Club's home ground, Turf Moor, stood *The Rifle Volunteer Inn*, a small pub that didn't serve much beyond basic snacks but was beloved by locals for its house-brewed beer and Guinness.
With kickoff approaching, regulars who hadn't snagged tickets for the opener crowded in to watch together, buzzing as they claimed spots at the central bar table and scattered seats, drowning their despair in the bottoms of their pint glasses.
"Ugh, so annoying!"
Henry Smayce chugged his beer in one go and gestured to the bartender for another.
A descendant of the Smayce family, who'd settled in Burnley since his great-grandfather's time, Henry prided himself on being a true local: born in Burnley, living there for 50 years, married to a Burnley woman, and raising his kids in Burnley.
Like 99% of Burnley men, he'd been cheering for his hometown team since before he could walk.
Though he regretted never experiencing Burnley's golden era firsthand—their First Division title in the 1960s—he'd stood by the club unwaveringly through its lows: relegation to the Third Division in 1979/80, a drop to the Fourth Division in 1984/85, and a near-bankruptcy in 2002.
Finally, the 2008/09 season brought a return to the Premier League after 33 years under Owen Coyle's management.
From 2012 onward, under Sean Dyche's leadership, Henry had savored six Premier League seasons—barring two brief drops—more happily than his honeymoon.
At least until those blasted Americans started tossing the club's ownership around like a toy twice in eight months, driving it to the brink of collapse and prompting an exasperated Sean Dyche to resign.
"No Sean Dyche… will we be okay?"
At the words of Henry's longtime friend and fellow diehard Burnley native, Mitch Tyler, Henry slammed his fist on the bar.
"Of course we won't be okay! It's all because of those damn Americans! If it weren't for them!"
Both had season tickets but had given them to their kids for the day, opting instead to vent their frustration and worry at *The Rifle Volunteer*.
No doubt the home fans inside the stadium were having similar conversations.
"That's not the point. The real issue is that relegation's a sure thing this year…"
Another fan nearby muttered gloomily, overhearing their exchange.
After eight years of leading Burnley to miraculous Premier League promotions, European competition, and survival—earning the fans' unwavering support—Sean Dyche was gone.
The mood among Burnley fans had plummeted through the floor into the abyss.
On top of that, their feelings toward the second American owners—who'd replaced the first set that had wrecked the club's finances—had shifted from concern to outright despair.
Still, the fans gathered to cheer for their hometown team. On the pub's giant screen, turned up to max volume, the broadcaster and commentator delivered a cold assessment of their club's situation.
[Today, the Premier League season finally kicks off!]
[Yes, with ten of the Premier League's 20 teams playing today, all eyes are on Burnley Football Club.]
[With Sean Dyche's sudden resignation, they're heading into the opener with an interim manager. Among the names floated as potential Burnley managers, Roy Hodgson—who brilliantly led Crystal Palace last season before stepping away—and Neil Warnock, the promotion wizard, seem to be the frontrunners.]
The commentator nodded at the caster's words.
[Roy Hodgson's tactics can be a bit rigid, but he's renowned for steadily accumulating points with lower-table teams. Neil Warnock's been out of the game for a while, but he's the best in the business at getting teams promoted. Though not mentioned now, Sam Allardyce—who managed West Bromwich Albion last season and is currently unattached—is also a top expert at avoiding relegation.]
[So Roy Hodgson for Premier League survival, Neil Warnock for a quick return after relegation to the Championship. Sam Allardyce's stock might be lower after failing to keep West Brom up last season, though.]
[It's unclear how Burnley's new owners, Cartwright Fund, will decide, but Mike Garlick—the former chairman still on the board—surely knows they need to pick one of those two, or maybe three in a broader sense.]
[Now, the starting lineups are coming up—oh, this is…!]
As the pub buzzed, Burnley's starting lineup appeared on the screen.
[In goal, Nick Pope. The back four, from right to left: Matt Lowton, James Tarkowski, Ben Mee, Charlie Taylor—so far, as expected.]
[In midfield, they've thrown in all available players: Jack Cork, Ashley Westwood, and Josh Brownhill! Jack Cork anchoring as the defensive midfielder, with Westwood and Brownhill ahead of him. On the wings, Jay Rodriguez on the right and Dwight McNeil on the left. Up top, Chris Wood as the lone striker.]
The commentator added his take to the caster's rundown.
[It looks like they're setting up to clog the midfield against Rafa Benítez's 4-2-3-1. That'd make Burnley's setup a 4-1-4-1, leaning heavily defensive.]
[Under an interim manager, they're clearly aiming to minimize point loss. It's even more defensive than Sean Dyche's 4-4-2.]
[Seems like they'll sit deep and hope for luck with long balls to Chris Wood.]
Hoping to avoid a crushing defeat, the fans clasped their hands in prayer for their team. After both teams' 22 players took a knee around the center circle as part of an anti-discrimination campaign, they stood, and the referee's whistle signaled the start of the match.
And the game unfolded in a direction no one could have imagined.