Stranraer really are shite! Ah'm no' complainin' cos it meant that the three points were already well secured this afternoon by the time the boys ran onto the park. The only question was how many we'd score. Ah'd fancied eight so ah was half right. The fact that Stranraer held us to four says more about the edge on our finishing than it does about them. They were asking tae tae absolutely fucked... and, the boys in black and gold were more than happy to oblige.

Ah suppose we should be grateful that the Blues managed tae raise the bus fare to ensure that the trip tae Fife took place at all. From what ah've heard Stranraer's recent financial worries may actually have been, at least temporarily, assuaged. However, big Liam's already telt me that that subject's far too sensitive for the likes of scallywags like us to be talkin' aboot it so ah'll say no more. Fortunately, nae other fucker appears tae be so delicate so if you want to know about the financial rescue plan... look at the Stranraer website!! (or our friends in the fourth estate - the Record, the Scotsman, the Galloway Gazette etc, etc, etc. But remember no' tae tell anyone - it's a secret!

All we can be sure of is that, whatever the club's new backers' motives are, it's certainly got fuck all tae do wi' football. The Blues' performance this afternoon was absolutely fuckin' woeful. And that was against a Fife side that, despite our dominance, certainly still looked to be lacking in a wee bit confidence until they really got going in the second half.

The way we started this afternoon, mind, should surely have calmed even the most jittery nerves. Reverting to a somewhat more balanced side (Lloyd Young and the Wonderhorse were both back in the starting line-up), Dave Baikie sent out a team with just one thing in mind - winning the game. Right from kick off we headed forward, setting out our stall in the most positive way. Big Temps got right carried away, attempting an elegant, graceful overhead kick inside the first minute. When he rose and headed home in our next attack, everyone forgot about what a plank he'd looked with the first attempt. Rising high to meet Shagger's cross, he headed goalwards and watched on as the Blues' keeper misjudged it and allowed the ball to trundle between his legs and into the goal. Great start; already the points were secure; let the floodgates open...

Well mebbe no'. It was a bit frustrating that we couldnae rattle in a few more early doors - after all, Stranraer have been shipping goals recently like some kind of big goal shipping thing. But thanks to the wisdom of the gracious Mr Colin Cameron, my concerns were alleviated. Don't worry, Ian, we never score mair than one at this end. Fair point...

And for all their shiteness, being just the one goal down, the Blues fought back and made an ocassional foray of their own into Fife territory. By the twentieth minute, they'd pressed forward and forced three corners in quick succession. The seventeen away fans looked utterly ecstatic - one of them confided to me at half time; "ah've been watchin' Stranraer for forty years - they've never had three back-to-back corners before...". Hope the auld fucker doesnae have tae wait as long next time...

Alas for the dude and his sixteen pals, those corners came to nothing and all too soon the action was back at the other end of the park. Well, I use the word 'action' advisedly. In truth, the Fife, despite being the far better side, were making remarkably heavy weather of wearing down the Stranraer defence. As it turned out, it was Jay Smart who came closest to extending the lead. He'd pushed forward at every opportunity and, on one ocassion, reached the box, got his napper to a great cross and was frustrated to see his goalbound effort scrambled clear by some desperate defending.

That was twenty minutes from the break and was pretty much as good as it got. Granted, Shagger, Temps and the Boaby all worked hard, running the pitiful Stranraer defence ragged, but, sadly, clear cut chances were few and far between. However, on the basis that our opponants were n-e-v-e-r gonna get back into this one, it was an easy job to just relax, blether to the wee ballboy (the very same one who'd huckled the Peterhead keeper a few weeks back - what a man!) and enjoy the warm spring sunshine. At times today it was positively balmy... and that more than made up for the fact that what was happening on the pitch was positively barmy!

With the wind in their faces, if anything, Stranraer looked even worse at the start of the second half than they had during the first. Satisfyingly, however, it now appeared that our heroes were far more in the mood for exploiting their weaknesses. As has happened so many times already this season, we were a different team entirely in the second period, pushing forward with skill and determination and finally putting on the show that the fans in the stand had been expecting.

Taking full advantage of the sloppy defensive display, Paul McManus had a field day, pulling his markers this way and that before delivering some great passes infield to his wee buddy Bobby Linn. Within ten minutes of the re-start we should have increased our lead when Shagger sent through a great pass that left Linn one-on-one with their keeper. How he failed to simply pop it away is a mystery but, as we were to discover later, the Boaby wasn't going to let that disappointment get him down. Together with McManus and big Temps, the three amigos terrorised the Blues defence and created loads of space. It was what we'd been waiting for and the goals would surely arrive very soon.

As it was, we banged away our second just on the hour mark. Lloyd Young and Lee Makel had also been enjoyoying far more freedom and were heading forward with conviction at every opportunity. I was particularly impressed with Lee who, despite his age (53), still appears to have plenty in the tank. It was fitting that he was to be the second scorer of the afternoon - Dougie C (who was also putting in a far more impressive second half shift) fired over a low cross into the six yard box; Stranraer's feeble attempt to clear left the ball at Makel's feet and, unchallenged, it was a routine job for him to poke it home from close range. Two - nil and finally we could start to really enjoy ourselves.

It was now evident that Stranraer had nothing left so the only job for the boys was to bang away as many as we could in the remaining half an hour. It was all East Fife, with only last ditch defending keeping the Blues in the game (aye right...). Their keeper too was utter gash - looked about fourteen (which, ah'll grant you, was older than their substitute keeper who was sitting next to his baby sitter in the dugoot), completely out of his depth and just praying that soon it would all be over. Well, by the sixty second minute it was.

Without a Stranraer player in our half to bother him, it was piss easy for Goran Stanic (who, until then, had been playing so well he'd have got a game for Stranraer...) to assuredly redeem himself, moving forward before delivering a perfectly weighted, defence splitting pass to Bobby Linn. As he burst forward into the box he was making no mistake with this one, committing the oncoming keeper before coolly sliding the ball under him and into the gaping net. The wee man was elated - a cracking move ending up with a belter of a goal and just what he needed to erase the momories of a couple of earlier misses (but no' that we'll dwell on them, eh Boaby...?).

With their bubble well and truly burst, however, Stranraer somehow found the collective haw-maws fae somewhere tae actually try tae play some football for themselves and twenty minutes from time carved out their one (and only) chance of the match, snatching a quick shot from about ten yards out that Michael Brown easily dealt with. So uninspiring and lifeless was the effort, mind, that not one of the Blues' supporters was even awoken from their slumbers. They continued to doze away, scattered far and wide over the far end of the stand with nothing but dreams of better days (three corners on the bounce perhaps) to keep them company. In an already long, painful season it was gonna be a lonely and arduous journey back home to the sphincter of Scotland tonight.

But not before we'd heaped more misery onto them and their like. Not satisfied with just the one goal, Linn was making some great runs and encouraging passes from all of his team mates. With fifteen minutes remaining he was to breach the frail Stranraer defence yet again, this time getting himself onto the end of a sweet little pass from the Wonderhorse (great feet for a big man...) and heading straight for their box. Having learned nothing from Linn's first goal, the keeper was once again exposed for the useless sack of shit that he is - the ball ended up in the back of the net, the keeper sitting bemused on his sorry arse. Maybe he should take up knitting - that's how far away he is from being described as a sportsman.

Nonetheless, the Boaby wasnae complaining as he chalked up goal number seven for the season - still no' quite the number we'd have hoped for from the dynamic wee midfielder but there's still a few games left yet...

Still working hard to increase the goal haul, the boys continued to knock the ball around with considerable assurance. Shagger's efforts throughout had certainly merited a goal but he was to be continually stymied by some bad luck and poor finishing late on. Undeterred, however, his team mates were positively queuing up to have a pop at the kiddie-on keeper. Cameron, Lloyd Young, and big Temps all went close in the dying minutes and even young Paul Nugent got in on the action; with virtually his first touch (after replacing Lee Makel) he had a crack from the edge of the box only to see his effort drift just wide.

So, despite our exertions, there were to be no more goals this afternoon. As the sun started to wane in the west, the cheat brought the game to an end and we'd finally gotten back to winning ways. It's a shame that fewer than six hundred had turned up for this one as our second half performance had been one to be proud of. But it was a pleasant afternoon so ah guess there'd been a lot of no-shows today whose wives had insisted on a barbecue in the back garden. Here's hopin' we'll all be back next week for our trip to Stirling.

The two games against the Binos could determine exactly what success (or otherwise) we'll reap for the season's efforts so let's get up early on Saturday, make our way inland and get right hehind the boys again. Another four goals would do just nicely - wi' any luck Stirling will be just as gash as Stranraer. C'mon the Fife!