THE 'Big club syndrome' is everywhere you look these days.

Constantly seeping into the nation's subconscious from blanket coverage in national newspapers to the hours and hours of tediously repetitive television coverage.

In Joe Royle's eyes, life would probably be so much easier if the weak were to fall by the wayside and allow us all to salivate over games between teams moulded by money.

'The Big Boys League', they could call it; an exclusive club where paupers need not apply.

Well thankfully, life isn't like that just yet and some of us just don't have the privileged luxury of big squads and a stash of cash swilling around in the club's bank accounts.

And Royle should know that more than most after cutting his teeth in management 20 years ago at unfashionable Oldham in the old Division Two.

The ensuing years have seen a great manager lead the Latics into the Premiership, steer Everton to FA Cup glory and resurrect the mighty Manchester City.

Now he finds himself the incumbent at Ipswich, a friendly football club that still oozes Premiership class behind the scenes.

So you will forgive me if I dismiss Royle's cringe worthy post-match moan as someone who conveniently forgot his modest roots for a day.

Lack of respect, belittlement, denigration; call it what you will. The one thing that's certain, after branding Burnley as unsporting and ultra-defensive, is that from his ivory tower Royle has absolutely no concept of how tough life is for Burnley at present.

A wafer thin squad, only two strikers on the books and a situation so precarious that should one of two defenders currently on four bookings receive another yellow card, the other may have to be sacrificed so that Steve Cotterill actually has a defence to field in the following game.

Alas, it seems that clubs like Burnley are still expected to roll up at the home of the big guns and open the back door to a thumping before returning to the land of flat caps and whippets.

"Three points; thank you very much Burnley."

Royle mercifully went short of having the temerity to suggest that the Clarets arrived at Portman Road armed with planks and a bag of nails for the goal frame.

But his derisory tone, as Town were denied their rightful prize by Steve Cotterill's brave, brilliant, battling side, spoke volumes.

And defensive? Do me a favour. Just because a team has got a great defence that does not, by definition, make them a defensive side.

For the record, the on-target shot count on Saturday was seven to six in favour of the home side. Ipswich had six corners to Burnley's four.

Not only that, but Ipswich should have been dead and buried long before they finally forced Danny Coyne into action in a frantic final 15 minutes.

Had Richard Chaplow and Robbie Blake not been denied by terrific saves from Lewis Price in the Town goal, a 0-3 scoreline would have sent Ipswich's legion of fans - who booed their team off at half time - scuttling home long before a breathtaking finale saw them equalise in stoppage time and then hit the woodwork three more times.

Given the vast possession enjoyed by the home side, a draw was certainly the least Ipswich deserved. But equally, defeat would have been cruel for the Clarets, who took another notable scalp after earning creditable draws at fellow high-flyers Wigan, Reading and Leicester.

Naturally, the foundations for success are built at the back and the strategy of sinking into two solid banks of four whenever possession is squandered comes straight from the first few pages of any coaching manual.

Watching this in action is fascinating. The more you feed the Burnley defence, the stronger it seems to get until, finally, it strangles the lifeblood from opponents.

Meanwhile, the predator lurks upfield in the form of Robbie Blake, waiting to gorge on the support provided by quick-breaking Chaplow, Hyde, Branch and Moore.

And so it was as Burnley picked Ipswich off early in the game. Hyde robbed Richard Naylor and was sent clear by Moore before sliding the ball across the area for the unmarked Blake to slot home his seventh goal of the season.

A hush descended on Portman Road as the significance of that goal registered.

Burnley simply do not ship goals, and the threat of a second was far greater than that of an equaliser as McGreal and Moore both came within a whisker of adding to the lead.

Town, however, should have been thrown a lifeline in the 27th minute when Frank Sinclair clearly handled Ian Westlake's attempted cross, but was given the benefit of the doubt by referee Brian Curson.

Royle's men could again count themselves unlucky minutes after the restart as Kevin Horlock's wicked free kick arced over the wall and struck the angle of bar and post with Danny Coyne beaten.

However, Burnley weathered an early storm and began to carve out more chances, Chaplow only being denied by Price's legs after Branch broke swiftly down the left.

Soon after, Branch fed Blake on the right hand side of the box and the striker's low, angled drive forced a magnificent one-handed save from Price.

Branch then went it alone a third time and forced a fingertip save from the young keeper when perhaps Blake or Chaplow provided better options.

However, as the clock ticked down, it was Coyne's turn to save Burnley. First he dived at Pablo Counago's feet to deny the Spaniard, then superbly turned Westlake's flick around his near post.

The pressure was mounting and finally, Town got their reward in the first of five added on minutes.

Mo Camara played everyone onside while lying 'injured' in the penalty area and Shefki Kuqi ignored claims for the ball to be kicked out of play to cross for Matt Richards to rifle home an unstoppable leveller.

Incredibly, Town then almost snatched victory from the jaws of defeat. Tommy Miller's dipping drive smacked the underside of the crossbar, then pinged the post and bounced across goal for Counago to rattle the other upright with the follow-up. But battling Burnley hung on. Deservedly, whatever some might say!