Burnley RELEGATED to Championship after 2-1 defeat against Newcastle as Leeds beat Brentford on final day of season

AT least Burnley can say they went down fighting – they just didn’t expect the knockout punch to come from within their own ranks.

Nathan Collins will never be able to explain quite why he stuck out a hand to flick away Kieran Trippier’s 18^th minute corner for Newcastle’s opener.

And while there was still plenty of time after Callum Wilson’s penalty, courtesy of the inevitable VAR decision, that was the moment which broke Burnley hearts.

Yes, there was another goal from striker Wilson to add to it, and true, the Clarets still had enough chances to save themselves.

But that was the instant, that was the second, when Turf Moor just knew what was coming.

At the end Collins was in floods of tears, and full credit to the classy Newcastle players who raced over to haul him to his feet and attempt to comfort him. They had no chance.

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Plenty of others in claret and blue were sobbing their hearts out too. Leeds’ late winner at Brentford meant not even an equaliser would have been enough.

They were down. After six successive years in the Premier League, the fairytstory was over. Trips to Old Trafford, the Etihad and Anfield had become Blackpool, Bristol and deadly rivals Blackburn.

Maybe there was simply too much at stake. Maybe that’s why it seemed to get to them for so long.

Whatever reason, Burnley were never really at it until far too late. And your mind just kept going back to that rush of blood moment from Collins.

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When ex-Claret Trippier curled over a delicious corner, a fully extended Nick Pope just managed to get his fingertips to it.

Whether Sean Longstaff, lurking beyond the far post, would have been able to react in time is debatable. Collins ensured he wouldn’t.

The defender himself immediately spun on his heel towards referee Craig Pawson, hoping desperately to get away with it.

But he knew, his Burnley team-mates knew, the fans knew, and a penalty box full of appealing Toon players certainly did.

Pawson was advised to take a second look by VAR official Jarred Gillett, the spot kick was given and when Pope dived left, Callum Wilson stuck it in the opposite corner.

That was bad enough, but coming at the same time news was filtering through that Joe Gelhardt had put Leeds ahead did bring the words “salt” and “wound” to mind.

So when it emerged that Gelhardt’s goal had been ruled out, it was as though the Clarets themselves had scored. That alone says much about their afternoon.

It took 38 minutes for them to get anything like a sight of Martin Dubravka’s goal – a Dwight McNeil 25-yarder – and even that was a couple of feet over.

If another goal was coming, it was from the men in black and white. And bang on half time it would have been had it not been for the reflexes of keeper Pope.

So many times already this season he has been the Clarets saviour, and it was the same story when he dived low to his left to deny the Frenchman.

A lesson learned about giving Saint-Maximin space? Not a bit of it, because an hour in he had all the time in the world to angle a low ball across the box and Wilson buried it.

At that second he looked to have done the same to Burnley’s ever-fading hopes of survival as well.

But to their credit the Clarets stuck at it, kept pounding away – albeit with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop at times – and got something to cling onto with 20 minutes left.

Collins earned himself an assist of the wanted kind with a delightful delivery from the right which Maxwell Cornet struck true with his right foot and Dubravka blocked.

Yet as it spun back to the striker, he kept his cool to volley home with the other, and suddenly it was game on.

When Brentford made it all square nearly 200 miles south, Turf Moor positively rocked. Amazingly, after being second best for so long, Burnley only needed a goal to stay up.

Giant striker Wout Weghorst stretched all of his 6ft 5ins frame to reach Ashley Barnes’ drilled cross, but it flew inches wide.

Jack Cork’s thunderbolt was heading for the top corner until Matt Targett somehow headed it out from a yard off the line.

And in the very last seconds Cornet found himself clean through, only to take too long to get his shot away and he was crowded out.

The last chance had gone. The last hope had faded. The last whistle had been blown and they had simply run out of time.

Of course we know it is all about 38 games, rather than one afternoon in May when fates are sealed and relegations decided.

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But you try telling that to Collins or any of the other Clarets who were flat on their backs come the end.

This one will take some bouncing back from…

Source: Soccer - thesun.co.uk