Smelly Bastards Nick A Point

29th Aug 2009: East Fife 1, Cowdengelly 1 (Barrs Scottish League Division Two)

The biggest league crowd of the season so far was drawn by the prospect of another exciting Fife Derby. Included in the eight hundred who turned up, huddled intae the far end of the stand, was a mish-mash of foul reeking varmints, loathsome looking freaks and the most repulsive barely-human detritus ever assembled in rural Fifeshire. Even so, ah was still a bit disappointed by the relative meagerness of visiting fans. Well, until ah remembered what date it was... giros no' due until next Tuesday and the local parole board in the west of the county no' due tae meet until the LAST day of the month. That together with the annual Eat-Yer-Bairns-n-Shag-Yer-Sister Gala Day in Lochore, ah suppose we should have been impressed that so many of the fuckers did bother to actually show up...

So while the jailbirds, doleys and the incestuous cannibals found themselves otherwise engaged, the wee ragbag of scum hounds that was here to cheer on the bloo brazil had plenty tae keep them oot their seats. Their team pretty much dominated the first half and should have been three or four up by the break! Hard to believe that a team readied for the third division could come to Bayview and give us a lesson in football. But that's the way it was in the first forty five...

The weather was bright but a blustery wind was blowing around Bayview, already warning that it was ready to play its part in the day's proceedings. Having said that, however, the Fife looked comfortable enough in the opening skirmishes. We kicked off, knocked the ball about well and within the first two or three minutes should have taken the lead - the Boaby came close, Lloydie and Rob Campbell even closer when they combined and then Div Muir... When he finally pulled himself off the turf and realised that he hadnae scored with his header, he muttered ruefully to the subbies who were warming up behind the goal, "Fuck, ah just closed ma eyes and hoped fur the best..." Fair play tae ye, big man, the prospect of getting up close and personal wi that hairy big twat of a goalie would have had me screwing ma eyes shut too...

We were to rue those early misses before the game was fifteen minutes old, mind. In virtually their first move forward into Fife territory, 'Gelly won a corner. Jay Stein fired over a reasonable (if inoffensive) enough cross into the heart of the box and his team mates simply waited for our keeper to come out, look comfortable, launch himself at the ball, look slightly less comfortable and then fall on his arse as it ended up nestling at the back of the net - not another touch was required after Stein's initial kick; he merely had to boot the baw and wait for his colleagues to come running over to congratulate him. Ah don't know but it's starting to look like every time there's a dead ball anywhere near our goal, there's just a fifty-fifty chance that we'll get away unscathed. To be fair to the keeper, the wind definitely played its part but...

The gale might still have been blowing but the goal certainly took the wind out of our sails. The Fife fans were stunned, the beasts at the far end descended into paroxysms of animated rapture. Such shrill, fearful caterwauling will stay with me always, the sight of those vile, baying savages is likely to torment my slumbering hours for many nights to come.

Meanwhile, back on the pitch, the subjects of their adulation grew in stature, their self belief almost palpable now that they'd opened the scoring. Any fear that they'd had was now forgotten, any respect they'd had for us, well and truly dispelled. For the next half hour we looked more like the team who'd prepared for a third division campaign, only to get two day's notice that Livvy were fucked and we were heading on up... Where the 'Gelly were at ease, we were at sixes and sevens; where they were relaxed and self-assured, we appeared agitated and upset.

They had ample opportunities to add to their lead; thankfully, they squandered each and every one. Paul McQuade did all the hard work, controlling the ball and slipping past Mike Brown only to push his effort wide; Jon Robertson wasted a great chance when heading over from inside the six yard box with not a defender anywhere near him and Stein should have doubled his tally for the day when he easily beat the keeper and was then thwarted by an outstanding bit of defending by the Nugget , whose last gasp effort cleared the ball off the line.

At the other end of the park, ah could only look on, desperate to see the boys somehow get a foothold in the game and fight our way back into it. The team in blue was having none of it mind and exploited every opportunity to push forward, the strong wind still blowing at their backs. In defence, we'd been struggling but eventually we started to keep the ball on the ground, retain some composure and, at last, look a little more comfortable.

And as it turned out, with the minutes ticking away before the interval and six hundred home fans incredulous that we were still, somehow, only one goal down, we finally offered something at the business end. Crawford and Linn had been working tirelessly throughout and their efforts were rewarded late on when the Craw broke free from his marker only to see his effort slide just over the bar. It was lovely just to have something to cheer about; the fact that we'd be going in only one down was almost as welcome as a goal would have been...

Normally the only foul smelling reek ah have tae deal with at the break is actually emanating from the one pound twenty's worth that ah'm aiming for. Today, however, as ah made ma way for ma half time comestibles, ah was physically repelled by a miasma of malodorous effluent that positively took my breath away. Ah used tae think that the words of the song were apocryphal but having to trudge ma way through that abject abomination of pseudo-humanity at its most primordial, ah started wondering if maybe they really don't have a telly in Cowdenbeath either. Looking at that sorry progression of anthropological debris (a hybrid creature somewhere between homo-dunfermopatheticus and homo-cardendensis), you're left wondering what would be the point of a TV anyway - aw their eyes point in different directions...

Which probably explains why they saw the second half a wee bit differently from the first. That, together with the fact that the Craw had given the team (including himself, I hope) a good boot up the arse and insisted that we showed mare bottle than we had in the opening forty five. The conditions hadn't improved but now we had the wind at our backs - an' at least Mike Broon's kicks wouldnae all go flying straight oot the park!

Fair play to the boys, mind - we'd been given a real fright in the first half but they continued to concentrate and tried to play passing football. With Cowdengelly pushed onto the back foot, even Ovenstone and the Nugget were able to push forward to support the midfield. Big John was the first to sting their keeper's fingers when he got onto the end of a great Div Muir knock down and fired one goalwards. Encouraged by the big defender's efforts, Lloydie, the Boaby and the Craw pushed all the harder, some desperate defending by the big 'Beath number 5 ensuring that his team stayed ahead.

Finally the home crowd had something to shout about, however, and you got the impression that there was definitely a goal somewhere in the team - quite where was maybe the only concern. But with half an hour remaining, Paul McManus made a welcome return to first team duties and was to make an almost immediate impact. His presence lifted the whole team and his pace and determination in the final third was soon breaking down the defence's organisation. With gaps starting to appear, we banged in a number of great crosses that had the 'Beath keeper scrambling under his bar to parry the ball away. Twenty minutes from time we forced him to tip the ball over for a corner.

Linn fired over a neat cross to the edge of the box where Mark Staunton had bags of time to prepare himself and head the ball towards goal. Unmarked just three yards out, Shagger was in the right place at the right time and nodded the ball home with ease. It was a perfect poacher's goal and illustrated just what we've been missing while McManus has been injured. His instinct and quick reactions ensured that it was a simple job for him to get us right back in the game.

And with the striker fitting right back into things, it was surely all set up for a thunderous last quarter - a victory was certainly the least we'd hope for. Ah still had young Jordyn doon for two goals in the predictor so the sooner we got him aff the bench and oot onto the park, the better. As it was, the youngster got the last ten minutes, looking his usual dangerous self if never really getting close to winning me the AFTN plaudits. With Sheerin and McManus combining well, the 'Beath defence found it harder and harder to cope, allowing Young, Nugent and Linn to come through the middle to have a pop at goal. The Boaby was the closest of all, his booming volley from twenty five yards had goal written all over it but, somehow, the beast between the sticks launched himself into the air and just managed tae tip the ball over. The wee man won't come any closer without bustin' the net this season...

But as the clock ran down it became more apparent that the bloo brazilians would be heading back to Bedlam with their second league point of the season. We had one last chance when Paul Nugent caught one from thirty yards only to see his low shot skim the outside of the far post. Shortly afterwards the ref decided we'd all had enough for the day and for the third match on the bounce we had to be satisfied with a share of the spoils. It's not the end of the world - still unbeaten and with the other results going the way they are, this division looks like it's gonna be very close. If we can just tighten it up a bit inside the six yard box and continue to support Shagger up front, there's no reason to believe that we can go far this term.

For our opponents, ah guess they'll be pleased enough. Their first half performance certainly showed that they've got the baws and self belief to do a job - well, at least when the wind's blowin'. The only problem wi' that, mind, is that stormy weather plays havoc with the cardboard shanties that the fuckers would be making their way back to. Hey, it's all about balance and with half the family banged up in Cornton Vale or Glenochil, ah guess it's a maybe a no-brainer after all... here's to a windy winter in the west of Fife!

C'mon the Fife!