Verdict: Saints 2 Burnley 2

In a Skacel-less line up, Wotte went for a predictable formation of Davis in goal, Perry and Saeijs in the centre and James and Surman on the flanks. Wotton played just in front of the back four, with Gillett slightly to the left but effectively alongside him. Lallana seemed detailed to the right side, with Wright-Phillips as a left-line clinger and Euell and McGoldrick up front, with the former tucking behind.

In fairness to Burnley, they had almost mathematically made the play-offs. But if they intend to play the game in this way, they can expect to be humiliated from this point on. Their immediate and thorough-going lack of interest in the 90 minutes in front of them was clear from the off.

It is to Saints' shame that they were not put to the sword.

And it wasn't for lack of trying. After the adventurous Lloyd James found Wright-Phillips in the box, and Bradley's scuffed shot tipped over the keeper, the scene was set for a wonderful wake.

But Saints failed to capitalise. A one-on-one with the keeper saw Gillett more concerned about the absence of a linesman's flag than the ability to give Saints a 2-0 lead. With enough time at his disposable to write his autobiography, he fluffed the effort. Wright-Phillips, more shamefully, was also felled by the pit in his stomach a few minutes later.

A soft - but technically correct - penalty brought the visitors back on terms. But some sort of justice was done when a good positional goal by McGoldrick put the doomed Saints ahead prior to the interval.

Half-time: Saints 2 Burnley 1

After an obvious dressing room screaming, Burnley's players decided that they should make some effort to earn their salaries. And attacked hard. With limited skill, but commendable effort.

Only ten minutes later did Saints realise they had nothing to lose. Jason Euell's diligence, intelligence and body strength won a penalty to kill the game. God only knows why David McGoldrick was the anointed taker. From the moment the whistle went, he looked like merely hitting the target - however softly - would count as okay.

It was a ludicrous decision to allow him to take the kick. I haven't even seen an England player bottle an opportunity with such stark staring obviousness. If Euell himself - or skipper Kelvin Davis - had taken the kick Saints would have won there and then.

Encouraged by the hapless generosity of their hosts, Burnley amounted a pseudo-counter attack. A poorly defended free kick led to an easy finish to level the scores, and seconds later, owing to a slip by the otherwise superb Lloyd James they could have rubbed salt into the wounds. Fortunately, Davis was alert to avert the danger. They wouldn't have been the first abysmal team this season to take all three points at St. Mary's.

The late additions of Saganowski, Schneiderlin and Smith were not enough to win the game for Saints.

The pitch invasion at the end was, frankly, an obscenity. Wotton was on the ground, possibly seriously injured, and hurling abuse at the away end just looks - and is - pathetic. If you want to direct your anger, please don't do so at a totally average team who have thirty more points than you. They will have the last laugh.

Full-time: Saints 2 Burnley 2

It is almost impossible to quantify how bad the last season has been. Even worse than the season that preceded it. At best, Saints will start League One next year bottom of the table at a score of -10. At worst, we may be "Wimbledoned".

The people to blame, of course, are those who have managed the club to this position. Not poor Mark Wotte, who is an excellent technical coach, and has the guts to look the fans in the eye.

If this year has been like watching a car smash in slow motion, then we need to retrieve some scrap metal from the wreckage.

But the most salient point I can make is that Leon Crouch must be removed immediately from any sort of decision-making or public role at Southampton Football Club.

He must be ruled out entirely as the next Chairman and must have the apparent platform granted to him in the club's programme and access to corporate hospitality guests swiftly and permanently removed.

I have no doubt that Mr. Crouch is a devout Saints fan. And some elements of the fan-base may even have encouraged his absurd actions. But you can't continue to trade on the fact that you are a walking-talking human being whose only key attribute is that you are NOT Rupert Lowe.

He is now wandering around as a Walter Mitty character.

Turning up at the end of the game in the hospitality suites - with Nick Holmes and Mark Dennis in tow - wielding buckets to "save our club" is a sign of how inappropriate and embarrassing Mr Crouch has become

This is not about bucket collections. At present market rates, if you're willing to donate a spare kidney, this will pay Bradley Wright -Phillips's salary for a week.

We're beyond that now.

There's still something of a semblance of a team on the pitch. But God save us from all the people who have overseen this great club's downfall. When Matt Le Tissier names you in the Times as one of the guilty men (that's you...Lowe, Wilde and Crouch), please just go away.

If we are going to get out of League One, it will be because smarter and brighter people won't put up with the antics of the likes of Messrs Crouch and Lowe.

It's time for a major change. And if you were part of the farcical, unedifying spectacle that brought us to our knees, then your are part of the problem. Not part of the solution.

I'm talking about you, Leon Crouch.

Please just leave now, with whatever dignity you can still muster.

Man of the match: Chris Perry (with an honourable mention to Lloyd James)