Stalemate In The City...

1st Nov 2008: Queen's Park 0, East Fife 0 (Barrs Scottish League Division Two)

Ma weekend started at teatime Friday and the hotly anticipated latest instalment of the Wetherspoon's Real Ale Festival. So, there's me, a hun, a Par and an auld guy called Brian who reckons, when all's said and done, that Greg Tade's just a big misunderstood soul who'd be really nice if we'd just give him a chance. Fuck, ah'm so desperate for a beer ah'll go boozin' wi anybody. The Standing Order in George Street is always mobbed but last night really was something special - it took longer tae get the beer than it did tae drink it so, despite no' getting home until after ten, all ah'd managed was four pints and a shooglie one.

Abbot's Reserve, Toad's Croak, Abbot's again, Titanic Iron Curtain and a slurp oota pint of Stewart's Gold... and then it was time for the off, half pissed and muttering shite about high ABVs an' that's why ah'm reekin'. Nae recollection of Colin gettin' aff the train at Inverkeithing, nae memory of saying good night tae Brian at Dagly Bay an' the only thing that woke me up at Kirkcaldy was Keith the Hun screamin' doon the phone about leavin' him at the bar in Spoonies when we aw sneaked oot. What he did wi' four pints of Ringwood's Old Thumper ah'll never know but ah bet he wasnae in his wife's good books when he woke up this morning...

An' neither was ah so as soon as ah'd got her breakfast made (the wee bastard insisted that ah make her scrambled eggs... yeuch...), ah was on ma way, missin' the boys at Kirkcaldy station, failing tae catch up wi' them at Haymarket and not being at all surprised that the only company ah had on the bluetrain oot tae Mount Florida was two fat Spiders' fans who spent mair time talkin' about the Super Stanford Twenty20. If ah'd known then how dull the match was gonna be, maybe ah'd have paid more attention but, for the moment at least ah had other things on ma mind. Like, hmmm, how dae ah get tae Hampden fae Mount Florida station? The sign pointed left, the two fat fuckers headed right...

Every other time ah've been oot this way ah get aff the train at Kings Park but that was 25p dearer so ah took ma chances fae the other side of the stadium. The Spiders' supporters were now well gone but the locals were, as you'd expect, their usual friendly selves and... nae fuckin' use at all. "Aw aye big man, jist doon ther an' ye canny miss it; it's the big football stadium that looks like Hampden Park." An' ah thought Frankie Boyle was the only funny guy fae these parts!

But ah had nothin' really tae worry about - it's just doon the road, turn right, third left and across the car park. This is definitely the way ah'll come when we're back next May for the Cup Final. So, in ah went, sauntered doon tae the front row (just eight feet below the level of the pitch) and out onto the track. As the boys ran out just before three o'clock it was one of the most surreal feelings ah've had at the fitba. Here ah was at the National Stadium, cheering the Kings of Fife onto the park. It doesnae get better than that. Sadly, it didnae really get any better than that.

Following last week's shenanigans, Baikie was forced to shuffle the pack once again. He stuck to his tried and tested 4-5-1 formation but had to make wholesale changes to personnel. Young David Muir made his first competitive start (ah think), Paul Stewart moved back intae midfield, joining Lloydie, Deno, Crawf and the Boaby and big Temps partnered Tweedie in the centre of defence. There'd been discussions all week on the forum about whether the Wonderhorse would be able to cope with the rigours of a full ninety minutes at the back. Don't know why we worried - the big man was fuckin' immense.

Perhaps the biggest surprise for me, however, was the fact that the gaffer decided to replace Wullie McCulloch in goal. In recent games ah reckon the big keeper's been in great form - ok, he was certainly culpable for last week's first Arbroath goal but he's made some outstanding saves this season and ah can't help thinking that we'd no' be as high up the league as we are if the big lad hadnae been there for us. It's no' often that players get dropped after you win a game.... Having said that, mind, Brown certainly relished his unexpected opportunity and made a number of great stops this afternoon.

Not that he had much to do in the opening fifteen minutes or so. Both sides started brightly enough but early on it was apparent that they were fairly evenly matched. The opening exchanges all took place in the midfield but with so many players packed together, even in the vast expanses of the Hampden pitch, there was a paucity of any real creativity. The guys were all working as hard as ever but, for all their efforts, McManus was consistently left on his own up front with little but the occasional scrap to give him comfort.

Not that any of that stopped the Fife supporters making their usual cacophany of noise. A good three hundred had made the journey to the big city and were, as usual, outsinging the locals. There seemed to me to be more folk in the posh seats (directors and journalist only, ah thought....) than there were in the stadium proper. Huddled together in that far corner, the away support was inspiring the boys on the park but, unfortunately, the guys weren't quite able to come up with the required results.

We slowly got our act together on the park, mind, and eventually started to carve out a few chances. Shagger was running himself ragged and pulling the Queens' defenders all over the place, leaving room for Shields, Stewart and Linn to move forward and try to create enough space for a shot. There was some clumsy tackles and barges by the home defence but those largely went unnoticed by the ref and, more often than not, they were able to clear any danger. At the other end too, the defenders were pretty much on top, snuffing out any danger in spite of the fact that towards the interval the Spiders did start to knock a few passes together.

Marshalled at the back by Steven Tweed, we always looked in control and with young Muir managing well and Temps looking like a natural, the guys in the midfield were able to concentrate more on moving forward. As it was, both teams managed to get a couple of half hearted efforts on goal but neither keeper had an awful lot to worry about and, when called into action, managed well, making their saves look altogether more exciting than they actually were. The ref eventually blew for half time and the teams trotted off to applause from both sets of fans. Neither team could be accused of not trying but a lack of cutting edge had ensured everyone was still left with "is that all?" on their minds as they drifted off to the pie stalls. They wouldn't have felt any better after handing over the cash - from what ah heard, the pies at Hampden are fuckin' stinkin'!

It looked like we might get more intersting fare in the second half - in the opening fifteen minutes there was more to get excited about than we'd had in the opening forty five. Right from the off, we pushed forward and within the opening seconds had a number or chances to break the deadlock, Linn, Crawford and Shagger all coming close. After that initial foray, however, it was the home side that settled quickest and soon they were moving purposefully forward with a renewed confidence. With the defence under the cosh we were thankful for the sterling efforts of Tweed and Temps; a combination of complete commitment from those two and some generous assistance from the far side linesman meant that all the Spiders' efforts were thwarted. For the most part we played the offside trap very well but there were times when we really did ride our luck and were grateful to see the flag raised.

For all our work at the back, they still kept loads of possession and before the hour mark had forced a few ham-fisted efforts on goal. Brown pulled off a couple of decent stops but, in reality, the Spiders' endeavours did more to highlight their lack of a potent strikeforce rather than test Brown. At the other end, Baikie had pushed Crawford forward to support McManus but, despite looking confident on the ball, neither striker came close to really raising the temperatures of the fans in the far corner. Just past the hour mark, Shagger made an exit leaving plenty of time for young O'Reilly to make an impact.

Alas, for all the big lad's hard work, he failed to really ignite the game as the boss would have hoped. Ah know that they're all different and we can hardly expect the same from Craig as we get from Shagger. With McManus' departure you just got the feeling that we'd have to be satisfied with a share of the points. As it was, however, our best two chances of the match both came after our talisman he left. With twenty minutes remaining we'd pushed forward and forced a corner. From Dougie's cross, big Tweed powered forward into the box, rose and met the ball perfectly, only to be frustrated to see it rattle off the frame of the goal and over.

Then, with time running out, Lloyd Young stole the ball in the middle of the park and slid a great pass forward for Crawford to chase. It looked like the striker was finally going to break his duck as he easily beat the depairing efforts of the Queens' centre half and made to chip the ball over the oncoming keeper. His cheeky effort appeared goal bound but their goalie somehow got a glove to it and stymied the big man's attempt, the ball eventually looping just over the bar and landing on top of the net.

We had one last wee scare right on ninety minutes when our hosts broke forward and struck a low shot from the edge of the box. Their finishing had been suspect most of the afternoon, however, and once more this shot off target, allowing Brown the luxury of simply watching it drift wide. Moments later, the ref blew for full time and our unbeaten run on the road was continued. It was a bit disappointing that we'd been unable to grab all three points but, given the circumstances and the fact the all the guys still kept on trying, we surely can't be too upset.

The guys trudged off the park and the fans did their best to show their appreciation for another great effort from the team. It had been a tough afternoon, however, and thoughts were surely just turning to getting home as soon as... But then, as ah was packing away ma camera and reliving the match in my mind, ah finally had reason to smile. It had already been a strange occasion for me, ma first day oot at Hampden wi the Fife. But you just know that we've not only got the best team in the land but also the best fans when the lasting memory for me will be that dulcet, sweet sounding voice, bellowing out and reverberating around the National Stadium, screaming, "ah love the Boaby on a Saturday night...". That's got to be worth the entry money on its own!

And with that, ah was off. An uneventful wander back through Cathcart tae the train, a ten minute journey back into town, five minutes back round tae Queen Street and, holy fuck! It was carnage - the place was swarming with collections of the great unwashed of Scottish football, hunners a hibbees headed home tae hell, accompanied by thoosans a huns making their not-so-merry way tae Falkirk, Polmont and Linlithgow (all within spitting distance of Ibrox stadium, of course).

Hibs had scraped a draw at Love Street, the Gers had put five past Inverness. But you'd have been forgiven for thinking it was the other way round. As the boys in green cheerily looked forward tae their Saturday night in Leith (couple a swedgers, a bottle of mad dug and a scrap at a night club later), the bluenoses sat in morose silence, mourning another victory for God's club. Ah don't know; if going tae the fitba is really that fuckin' bad, mebbe ye should all just stay at home and watch videos of the 1966 World Cup Final...