Honest Men Expose A Hard Truth

22nd Nov 2008: Ayr United 4, East Fife 2 (Barrs Scottish League Division Two)

Ma auld man was daft about Ayr United and used tae drag me tae Somerset Park when as was a bairn (or wean as we called them in the west). Must be thirty five years since ah was last here and, apart fae the 'Ayrshire Post Media Centre' over on the railway side, it hasnae changed much at all. Today was an anniversary for me and him; the auld boy actually died on the twenty second of November 1991; seventeen years since he last paid tae get in and see his beloved Honest Men.

And wouldn't he have enjoyed it this afternoon. Now, as you know, ah don't buy intae any of that mumbo-jumbo, superstitious bunkum but, as the goals rattled in during the first half, ah couldn't help thinking that the auld fucker would have taken some considerable glee in seeing me squirm at the far end of the park. Just as well that he's definitely NO' up there watching!

And just as well that ma maw still lives in Ayr. That guaranteed me a lift fae Mrs Fridayclub (not one peep oot her about goin' tae the fitba) and the pleasure of a pre-match bowl of the finest chicken soup this side of the Appalatians. Her yorkshire puddings used tae be worth a mention too but she now swears by some other wifey's - ah never even knew ah had an Aunt Bessie! The long and the short was that ah was well fed and watered as ah met up with the rest of the gang (fannies tae a man - and woman????) in the most authentic Irish pub ah've been in since the last one (the barman was from Monkton which is nearly Ireland, ah spose...)

An' lump all that together and you get me and the gang at the gates of Smotherset Park just before three while Mrs FC hit the shops in Ayr. Despite still having an injury list as long as yer arm, the line-up didnae look all that bad. Granted, Paul Stewart's no' a full back, Shaun Fagan's just back fae suspension and Rob Campbell has been strugglin' a bit recently but, all in all, we looked flexible enough to be able to adapt to whatever Ayr threw at us.

And in the opening moments it seemed fine. Bobby Linn appeared to be back to full fitness and right from the off was focused only on heading forward. Fagan, Lloydie and Crawf all settled quickly in the middle of the park and in the opening skirmishes all seemed just fine. Sadly, it took just about ten minutes for our hosts to warm up and start to give as good as they were getting. Less than fifteen minutes in and pretty much on their first real move forward, they took the lead.

Dave Gormley (is he no' that comedian that went all over lookin' for folk wi the same name?) picked up the ball out left and headed straight for Bebo. The forward's dribbling turned Paul inside out and within a couple of seconds had sufficient room to fire over a great cross which was met by Ryan Stevenson who left the Fife defence for dead as he rose, picked his spot and bulleted home a powerful header. It was a crackin' goal, came out of nowhere and, if truth be known, was a complete sucker punch; we were really never gonna come back from it.

Before the Fife fans had even realised how low the team's shoulders had already sunk we were picking the ball out of the net again. We'd been pushing forward and appeared to be under little pressure but a loose pass from Lloydie ended up at the feet of the unchallenged Ryan Borris in the middle of the park. Unmarked and in acres of space, the midfielder sprinted forward before neatly slipping the ball through to Gormley. His shot from the edge of the box slid across Michael Brown and a second later the ball nestled in the corner of the net. As the home fans went bananas, we were left thinking that it might end up like a cricket score. In the space of five minutes our promising start had become an unmitigated disaster...

And it was only gonna get worse. With our confidence completely shot tae fuck, the team started tae fall tae bits. We just needed someone tae put their foot on the ball, slow it down a bit and recompose ourselves. Sounds easy, eh? Unfortunately, by now the Honest Men were on fire. Egged on by the noisy locals on the terraces they upped the pace and started playing some of the bext football ah've seen anywhere this season. Before the game was twenty five minutes old, they turned their dominance into another goal - this time it was Dougie C who was bamboozled before they fired over a perfect, accurate cross and another header flashed past Brown.

Before we'd even created our first real chance at the other end, Ayr could've added another couple of goals; a combination of desperate defending, decent goalkeeping and (more accurately) poor finishing kept it down to a rout. At the other end Campbell and the Wonderhorse combined well but Rob's effort slipped agonisingly wide. It was becoming more and more evident that there was gonna be nothing to cheer the travelling support in the first half - the best we could hope for is to somehow scramble into the dressing room at the interval just three goals down... By the skin of our teeth we just about managed to.

What's always impressed me is how the guys can put things behind them and focus on how to get back into a game. We'd been cancelled out in the first half by our hosts but we trotted back out for the second with renewed vigour. We didn't exactly look like world beaters but at least we looked like a football team at last. Ayr, inevitably buoyed by their three goal lead, still strutted about like peacocks (fuck, you'd think they owned the place!!!). If only they played fuba like burds too... Five minutes in young Prunty (great name...) had a crack from about thirty yards and was unlucky to see his effort slide just over.

Undeterred, however, our heroes rallied and did their best to fight back. All too often Cameron, Crawford and Campbell combined along the left flank but all too often the final ball was shite and the chances passed. Just past the hour mark, mind, the big winger finally got to the bye line and knocked over a great cross. Linn and the Wonderhorse were both striding forward into the six yard box; it was the Boaby who made contact and swept the ball into an empty net. It was a while coming but with half an hour still remaining it was enough to get the Fifers in the crowd thinking that maybe we could still get something out of the game.

So you can toss a coin and see what way it lands. Did we knuckle down, work hard, create a few decent opportunities and rue the misfortune that stopped us scoring any further goals? Or did we knuckle down, work hard, create basically fuck all and rue the fact that our hosts were playing far better than we were? You cannae question the guys' efforts or intent but sometimes you just have tae accept that the other team are too good for us. That's what happened this afternoon; we worked like fuck but it was all disjointed and unorganised. In the meantime, Ayr, consolidated at the back, bullied us in the middle of the park and waited until their further chances inevitably presented themselves.

And they didn't take too long... Twenty minutes from time, Gormley and Stevenson combined again; ah was relieved tae see the effort go wide as the move probably deserved more. They weren't gonna be held a bay for much longer, however. We#d already seen some crackin' goals but ten minutes from the end we were treated to the best of the afternoon. We appeared to have cleared the danger following some concerted United attacking but the ball simply fell to Prunty at the edge of the box. He knocked the ball back into space where Dean Keenan, moving forward from the midfield, leathered one for thirty yards and just about burst the net.

Any lingering hope that we'd had (go on, be honest, was anyone still hanging onto the dream?) was well and truly quashed as the ball rebounded from the net. We'd probably known it since half an hour into the game but their fourth strike was the final nail in our coffin. Done! And even a late consolation from the Fozzmeister (and it was a cracker) did little to ease the pain. Ryan Blackadder and Dean Shields made a late appearance but with barely five minutes remaining there was little that they could do (other than set up Fozzie's goal, I guess....) to make any impact. The writing had been on the wall for some considerable time and whether they'd have made any difference if they'd come on earlier is moot but you have to ask what the gaffer thought he'd achieve by two substitutions in the eighty fifth minute...

But that's just me hurtin'. Ah know less than fuck all about runnin' a football team. What ah do know is that, as usual, each and every one of the players put in the best shift they could this afternoon. We were done aw ways today and we just have tae live with that (the fact is that 4-2 probably flattered us) but with us having suffered at the hands of Brechin and the Scum in recent weeks it's no' easy. What must surely keep us all focused, mind, is that it's aye easy tae support a team when they're winnin'. Surely the real test is always being there when the times are tough.

This is as bad as it's been for me in the couple of years that ah've been following the Fife. But d'you know something, every week ah turn up at the games and a see a group of players going out and proudly wearin' the shirt. They're not always good enough tae win games but that doesnae matter because they're always the best team; they knock their pans in week in, week out and that, for me, is more important that short term problems. So maybe us fans should take a leaf out of their book and remember that things will only get worse unless we all rally together behind the team and the backroom boys. We've achieved so much in the last few months and there's still a long journey ahead of us. But unless we travel it together there's no point even trying.

We've got a cup game back in Methil next Saturday - surely the only real answer to today's disaster is tae fill the stadium, get behind the team, make some big noise and ensure that we get back tae winning ways again. Ah've no' been around long but ah can see that's the right thing to do - unless we share the pain then we cannae truly enjoy the good times. See you all on Saturday - let's go and fuck the Smokies!!!!