With a headline like that in the local rag (well, the Courier), it could surely only turn out to be a bonkers day at the fitba.... Ah never did get around tae buyin' the newspaper (so we may never know all the dramatic details....) but at times this afternoon it would have come in handy. Don't get me wrong - ah'd been lookin' forward to this day for weeks (eleven!!!), it was great tae be back at Bayview and it was just as we'd left it at the end of last season - no sign of gypsies or a new stand.... Needless tae say, it did turn out tae be a bonkers afternoon but, sadly, the game itself wasnae much tae write home about.

It was an early start for me today, meeting up with a right tatty bunch of reprobates at Kirkcaldy station at half eleven - Jimmy the Hibbee, Mark the ex-hun, Billy (what else?) the referee (rubbidge) and, and, and.... Coco (full details available somewhere on Wikipedia - be afraid; be very afraid. If you thought our own Coco was daft, just be content that he's buggered off tae Canada - they should never be allowed tae meet). A ten minute hike doon tae Spoonies and a first round that included five breakfasts and was still cheaper than just the beer anywhere else in the country. If we'd paid a pound extra we'd mebbe even have gotten a smile fae the waitress when she brought the grub.... Or mebbe not!

It was all a lot friendlier two hours later when we jumped into our taxis and headed for Utopia - don't know what the journey was like for the other three but me and Mark had a great time, thoroughly entertained by Kim, the driver, who, after initially thinkin' that Bayview was somewhere in Kinghorn (ah don't know, mebbe it was cos she's a burd...), soon got into the groove and gave us her life story. Which could have been iffy if Mark hadnae continually insisted that she 'turn up the myoosik' - never thought ah'd be so happy singing along tae Bat Out Of Hell (the whole album, no' just the song!!).

We toppled out in front of the club shop - 'it's a fuckin' portacabin' was the best that Jimmy (who once kept a certain Gordon Strachan out the Scotland team, if you'll believe it....) could manage, still pissed off that he'd had tae fork oot the twenty quid for his taxi - without the serenading. His mood wasn't to get better any time soon either. A wee bearded auld guy in a skirt collecting the cash at the gates and a queue for the pies meant that the game had already started by the time we took our seats.... He'd have been even more fucked off if we'd known then that we'd probably already missed the best of the play....

Well mebbe not! As ah was catchin' up with old back row pals (ah thought that Kenny the Polis was workin' til August....), Jimmy nailed his colours to the mast - they were red and white. Never thought ah'd witness such betrayal - a workin' class hero, hibbee through and through, cheering out for a bunch of Tarquins, Torquils and Quentins.... Unbelievable! No' that he had much to shout about in the first half....

It was apparent that this one was definitely a pre-season affair so throughout the game there was no real venom from either side. No really hearty tackles, no' exactly full paced and more than the occasional pass going astray... It was obviously still all too energetic for the nearside linescheat, mind, who didnae seem to be able tae run fae here tae there withoot pullin' a muscle in his leg... Billy merely shook his head in disbelief hoping there'd be no tannoy request for 'any qualified referees in the crowd'. But, for five quid a head I certainly wasn't gonna complain too much.

And, if truth be known, even though it wasn't the greatest, the Fife looked fairly accomplished throughout the first half. Despite a rumour going round that Bobby and Jay were playing at T in the Park, it was pleasing to see that they'd both started. In the opening forty five Smartie had hee-haw tae do; at the other end Linn looked like he'd never been away - he is very good....

But, unfortunately, so was the Spartans' goalkeeper who made no fewer than four great saves in the first half hour to keep his team right in it. We'd done well to create the chances but really should have done more - notwithstanding their keeper's performance, Spartans didn't have much to offer so we should have taken advantage of the space that we made for ourselves. As the cheat blew for the interval I reckon I wasn't the only one in the stand thinking that we may yet rue missed chances.

And it wasn't to take too long for us to regret those wasted opportunities. It was reasonable to expect that Baikie would give them a bit of a kick up the arse at half-time. However, if anything, it looked like Spartans were far more up for it as the second half commenced. Granted, it was pretty much a new team that ran out for the Fife, Baikie having made wholesale changes to the line-up. It was really just McManus and Templeman that were missing from pretty much what you'd consider as being our first team but that didn't make much of a dent in the visitors' defence which looked far more secure than they had in the first period. Building on their confidence at the back, they even started to have a go at the other end.... and less than ten minutes in they took the lead.

Ah was at the other end takin' photos and havin' a natter with Colin Cameron (the real one, no' that has-been that's been in the papers - and, unbelievably, our forum - in recent weeks) when the cheat awarded Spartans a free kick; it had been the first chunky tackle all afternoon but close enough for our visitors the float a great cross into the box. For once, neither Tweed nor Jay were sharp enough to stop their centre forward who looped his header high over the keeper and into the net. Pish!

And although there was still well over half an hour to go, you just somehow got the impression that there'd no' be much action at the right end. As it was, the boys continued to work hard and kept reasonable possession but the positional play wasn't up to much, the movement was non-existant and our passing was altogether far too pedestrian. We created a few half chances but their keeper was always one step ahead and never under much pressure. The nearest we came to scoring was when Stevie Nick managed to spring the offside trap and headed goalwards.

His first effort was parried to the side but it looked like he'd still be able to sneak the ball home, only for the forward to get caught up in the keeper's legs as he followed through. The ref waved play on, Stevie simply looked bemused and.... five minutes later the keeper looked me in the eye, laughed and admitted, 'that was a penalty, by the way....'. Tell me something ah don't already fuckin' know!

I took a few moments out tae catch up wi' Mr Corstorphine (glad he enjoyed his cruise....) and wandered back to the gang in the stand, still confident that, no matter how dull (and it was dull) this was all turning out, we'd still grab a couple before the end. I took my seat back beside Jimmy just in time for Spartans to split our defence with a lovely pass and then watch Struan Preston (see, what did ah tell you about the names....?) make a bit of a meal of it but successfully slot the ball away to finish the scoring for the day. So much for that then....

Five minutes later it was all over; disappointed that, after doing relatively well in the first half, we'd been so sluggish in the second. But, that's what these games are for and we have to be assured that Dave Baikie will have learned plenty from this afternoon's shenanigans. In any case, I couldn't dwell on the game; I had bigger fish to fry, namely getting my coterie of Edinburgh bampots over to Leven Bus Station and back to KDY - hey, it was the least I could do so to the fair folk of Methil, please accept my apologies; there's really no excuse.

The Number 7 gave Jimmy one last chance (or so we thought) to whinge about Fife - £3.20 bus fare seemed far too much, and ah'm a bit surprised that, at his age, he didnae get it cheaper but he coughed up and we took our seats. Minutes later two auld twats took offence to how loud we were talking and that set him off again. You tell them, Jimmy, I thought but then realised that he was agreeing with the codgers and hucklin' me an' Mark. What a grumpy auld wank - all because in his seven hours in Fife he'd only managed three bottles of beer. Thankfully that was remedied by five o'clock when we made our way back tae Spoonies and, with a beer in front of him, he was finally willing to pass judgement on the game....

'Shite!' he intoned before adding, 'noo, tell me about that coo in the pool hall!'

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