Scottish Football

The following is a piece that I wrote for Seasiders Review the match day programme of Bridlington Town AFC

Another Weekend in Scotland

A quick return north o’ the border, this time with Brother in Law John for a quick break before his birthday.  I’d promised him a little trip months ago and after so many local non-league cancellations last weekend seemed as good as any.

It’s a long way so an early start was needed.  We started the journey listening to some back episodes of The Blizzard podcast as I couldn’t face Talk Sport or 5 Live so soon after dawn.  The SatNav instructions kept interrupting the flow of the podcast which led to some amusing breaks such as “...his favourite anecdote was”.. “at the next roundabout go straight on”, bloody good story that one!  After a while though we succumbed to the inevitable and tuned into Talk Sport and endless chatter about the North London Derby.  Apparently a Talk Sport 2 is to be launched soon which will probably delight taxi drivers though you have to worry how thin they can spread their special brand of ‘intelligent debate’.

As the driver I was knackered when we finally reached Stark’s Park, the home of Raith Rovers.  Our first sight was the offices and the Val McDermid stand looming over a wall.  In case you are not a fan, Val McDermid is a crime writer (The Wire in the Blood, and others) who comes from Kirkcaldy.  A quick photo and tweet to Hull crime writer Nick Quantrill and we were off in search of refreshments.  Ten minutes later we almost run into the good lady herself but she was occupied with a group of people so I couldn’t go all fan-boy and ask for an autograph and picture.

Refreshment came by way of a decent pint Orkney Raven ale in the Robert Nairn down the lovely named Kirk Wynd.  I could have happily spent all afternoon supping but we had food to find and football to watch.

Food came by way of the ubiquitous pie from a local baker on the High Street.  John opted for a macaroni one and a chicken one whereas I went for scotch and chicken.  John was a bit apprehensive about the idea of a macaroni pie but after a couple of steaming bites deemed it one of the finest pies he had had.  Praise indeed!  I bit into my piping hot scotch pie and got a squirt of hot fat.  It is one of the mysteries of life that if you dip your finger in something wet two seconds later you have a wet arm up to your elbow.  In this case super heated pie fat up to my elbow; curses followed and some of my pie filling fell onto the pavement.

Stark’s Park is a curious little ground with the away fans sat in the Val McDermid stand behind one goal and the bulk of the home fans sat behind the opposite goal.  There is a main stand which contains the offices, changing rooms and such like but it doesn’t even make it to half way.  On the opposite side is a covered terrace which is being converted to seating, on which was proudly displayed the Raith Rovers flag which appears to be a Lion with a Talbort Sunbeam steering wheel.

The match itself was a very entertaining end to end affair.  The purist would probably argue that there were too many long and aerial balls but to be fair the pitch was heavily sanded by modern standards, which is not conducive to slick passing.  Raith opened the scoring after only three minutes and added a second mid way through the half.  St Mirren battled away and got their reward just before half time, but Raith were good value for their half time lead.

The second half started much as the first did when Hardie quickly grabbed two more to complete his hat trick, all of which were finished well.  They then eased down somewhat, becoming a little sloppy and inviting pressure.  St Mirren required no second invitation and got themselves back into the game on the hour mark.  The tide had turned and as so often is the case when a team eases off they find it hard to raise their game back to the required standard.  This was no exception and St Mirren added a third and were looking for looking for an equaliser.

Back to the car and a short drive over to Glenrothes where our hotel was situated, on a roundabout which being a new town it seems to have in abundance.  All rather confusing in the dark and for some inexplicable reason one wrong turn led to a 30 minute walk taking nearer to 90 minutes.  At least it worked up a thirst and an appetite!

We finally made it to the local Wetherspoon’s pub the Golden Acorn for a few pints and some food.  Unlike their pubs in England they do a Highland Burger which is like a chilli burger but with a haggis toping rather than chilli.  Bloody lovely; we must petition for them down south.

A great day was rounded off with a nightcap in the Fettykil Fox adjacent to the hotel and plans for Sunday morning sightseeing in Edinburgh.

Raith Rovers 4 (2) St Mirren 3 (1)

Hardie (3, 53, 55), Stewart (24)                   Watson (41, 76), Clarkson (61)

Raith Rovers

Cuthbert, Thomson, Toshney, Benedictus, McKeown, Connolly (Anderson 56), Callachan, Davidson, Panayiotou (Matthews 64), Hardie, Stewart

Substitutes: Anderson, Matthews, Thomas, Court, Craigen, Law, Barr

St Mirren

Langfield, Watson, Webster, Baird, Irvine, Gallagher (Gow 56), Mallan, Quinn (Agnew 25), Stewart (Thompson 85), Shankland, Clarkson

Substitutes: Goodwin, Gow, Thompson, Agnew, Cooper, Wilks, McAllister

Referee: John Beaton

Attendance: 1,888

A Weekend in Scotland

I must have known Jim getting on for 30 years, first as an auditor and then as a work colleague.  I visited him and his wife Marjory at their home in Barrhead about 10 years ago and have had an open invitation to return and stay for a weekend ever since.  As so often happens life seemed to get in the way and I never got around to taking them up on their kind offer until now.  I decided that 2016 had to be a year of getting things done and so arrangements were made on the one proviso that we spent the Saturday at a football match not fly fishing (his hobby).

So straight after work on Friday I headed up to Barrhead and enjoyed an evening of generous hospitality and catching up on what had been happening.  I also discovered that Scotsmen have a very different concept of what constitutes a ‘small one’ when it comes to malt whisky!  After a few bottles of beer from the local Kelburn Brewery and several ‘small ones’ I retired to bed slightly wobbly and knowing I’d had a drink.

After a breakfast of square sausage and tattie scone in a soft roll, a bracing stroll and spotting this sign it really did start to feel that I was back in Scotland.

So to the football.  The local junior side Arthurlie FC were not playing so we had to go out of Barrhead.  I have already seen the National Side and Scottish Premier football at Pittodrie so I fancied going down the football pyramid.  I didn’t want to go to see a big side so Rangers were out, leaving Greenock Morton, who were at home to Dumbarton making a sort of cross Clyde derby an obvious choice.

              Arthurlie FC

The journey to Greenock was slightly grim, being sleety rain or rainy sleet, hiding what a really nice view along the coast road.  The Scots probably have an expression to describe such weather, just as the Eskimo has 40 ways of describing snow, it seems to me that the Scottish have an endless vocabulary to describe the dour and downright miserable.  As I was to see on the drive back when the weather was cold but fine and clear the view of the snow covered hills and across the Clyde was really quite magnificent.  Greenock, like Port Glasgow is on a strip of land developed along the river bank hemmed in by the Clyde on one side and hills on the other.  Sadly like many areas ‘up North’ the local heavy industry based on ship building and the dock had declined but there were signs of the shoots of redevelopment and new life.

Morton’s ground Cappielow Park is squeezed in there and with its low stands, were it not for the floodlights, it could be overlooked.  We headed for the home section turnstiles and a friendly steward tried to point us in the direction of the away end.  It was then that the penny dropped, Dumbarton were playing in amber and black.  “No mate this is a Hull City scarf” was my response showing him the Tiger badge.  His response was “bloody hell what are you doing up here!  On to the cash turnstiles (there’s a novelty; take note Hull City) with the pretty reasonable £17 admission (£12 for concessions).

Inside it was get a programme (£2) and survey the sight of an old school proper football ground.  Uncovered terraces behind the goal, one with bench seats, best stand with seats to the left and a big covered standing area to the right known locally as the Cow Shed.  It was here we went to stand and more explanations from me as to the temerity of wearing a black and amber scarf in the home section to the amazed locals.

The Cow Shed

The first half started at a brisk pace with Morton taking the upper hand in early exchanges and striking the goal frame twice.  They were missing chances though and the delivery from the left wing could have been better.  Just as I was wondering whether they would allow themselves to be mugged there was a clumsy collision and Nade, who I thought represented the best chance of this happening,  came off worse going down clutching the top of his thigh.  It was a Souness-esque studs rake (Nade showing the referee the hole in his shorts) though with no obvious intent, more of an accident.  There seems to be an unwritten law that a bash to a man’s sensitive areas results in laughter rather than sympathy; only heightened by a female physio coming on to a few choice comments. However she was unable to repair the damage and he eventually limped off.  The stalemate continued until half time, with Morton ‘ahead on points.’

No warming whisky this time, after last night’s session, instead a hot pie.  Scottish food gets its share of critics, yes some of it is not healthy but in moderation bridies, rowies and square sausage are champion and Jim came back with another great, the scotch pie.  These were piping hot with a firm stuffed filling and a slightly greasy lid, so much better than a prawn sandwich!  During the interval some ‘big lads’ came onto the pitch and took penalties.  They were part of a local health initiative backed by the club encouraging mature men to get fit and lose weight.  Most had some way to go but were given encouragement as well as the odd joke and it’s a positive thing to see clubs getting involved in community projects.  Football being a power for good.

The second half was more of the same with Morton making the running and Dumbarton’s best chances being on the counter or set pieces.  The breakthrough came on 64 minutes when Johnson slotted home after a previous shot had been blocked.  From then it was pretty comfortable until McKee got on the end of a slick passing move and put it beyond doubt.

Half way through the second half it occurred to me that there had been no singing and no real chants, just the odd shout of ‘Ton’ or ‘come on Ton’.  What there was though were let’s describe as Anglo Saxon comments towards the pitch.  As players tired and clumsy collisions started to occur that went from a trickle to torrents of abuse and few were spared!  It was like being in a 40 year time warp and funnily enough it seemed good natured or at least not genuinely malicious.  One Dumbarton player who was particularly a target came over to clap the Cow Shed mob at the final whistle and this seemed to go down very well.

All in all a good match with some decent passing football played and well worth the visit.  Next time I am in the area I won’t hesitate to make a return visit.

Then it was back to Jim’s and more hospitality.  A great weekend.

Morton 2 (0) Dumbarton 0 (0)

Johnstone (64), McKee (88)

Morton

McNeil, Pepper, Kilday, Lamie, Russell, Barr (Tidser 87), McKee, O'Ware, McCluskey (Forbes 83), Johnstone (Samuel 90), McManus

Substitutes: Miller, Forbes, Scullion, Tidser, Samuel, McGowan

Dumbarton

Ewings, Buchanan, Barr, Wright, Saunders, Cawley (Heh69), Routledge, Walsh, Docherty, Fleming (McCallum 65), Nade (Gallagher 31)

Substitutes: Brown, Taggart, Gallagher, Kirkpatrick, McCallum, Waters, Heh

Referee: George Salmond

Attendance: 1,595