Do You Kiss Your Wife With That Mouth?

1st Aug 2009: East Fife 2, Lino Likkers 3 (CIS Insurance League Cup)

Ninety three minutes on the clock, the prospect of (barely deserved) extra time looming and, from nowhere, I hear an exasperated cry of such profane, objurate malediction that it takes me some moments to appreciate the enormity of the disaster that's befallen our team. There's a guy called "?" who's aye complaining on the AFTN Forum about the amount of swearin' ah include in ma match reports - ah only hope that he was beyond earshot of Mr Corstorphine. That tirade of abusive vituperation was enough tae make ?'s toes curl. If I hadn't realised it already, that anguished shriek indicated that those lino-likking shitbags had grabbed a winner with virtually the last touch of the game.

Well, not quite the last touch. There was still just enough time for young Mr Cargill to Kung Fu Panda their glaikit big full back and prove to us all that it wasnae just the fans in the stand that were feelin' the pain (although probably no' quite as much as big Laurie Ellis). It was encouraging at least to see that there's plenty of fire in the bellies (and strength in the elbows...) of the youngsters - big disappointment today but there's obviously still loads of passion in our team. And that's got to be good news...

It had all started out so differently. Mrs FC was in a far better mood so insisted on dropping me off at the game. Ma wee lad made his first match day visit to Bayview and as we pulled to a halt on Harbour View, started screaming his poor wee face off. One glance oot the windae confirmed my worst fears; he'd gotten his first look at the orc like creatures that follow the wraiths. What kind of a father am I to allow him to be exposed to that shite without any proper warning? There they were, swarming around in their own filth, smelling like shit and proving that to wander along Kirkcaldy beach truly is to paddle in the shallow end of the gene pool.

In they teetered in their bran'new champyins shirts. If you thought last season's comic harlequin vests were funny, you must have pissed yersel when you saw this year's Thunderbirds Are Go offering (although Graham Weir seemed intent on going for the Joe 90 look instead...). In the opening minutes of the match they appeared to want to play like puppets as well as look like them.

From the off they moved forward and created a little space before Weir tripped over his strings, broke his big thick glasses and sklift his effort goalwards to give Broonie a confidence boosting early touch. That was to prove to be the quality of their finishing in the first forty five minutes, looking accomplished enough as they rattled the ball about (always lookin' to find Greg the Gallic Greet - talk about a one-trick pony) before knockin' it high and wide or off Smartie's arse. Anywhere, in fact, other than towards the Fife net.

Which suited us just nicely. In our first real foray into the Dark Side's territory, Lloydie, Shagger and the Boaby combined to show them just how you finish. Linn picked up the ball just outside his own box and sprinted forward watching the Linos' midfield disintegrate in front of him (Dundee, Partick, the Pars et al must be licking their lips already in anticipation...). He slid a neat pass to Young and kept his run going so that by the time McManus picked up the ball on the far side, the wee man was in a perfect position to have a pop at goal. From the edge of the box he connected sublimely with Shagger's pass and despite the despairing dive of the Likker's full back, the ball stayed true and blasted into the back of the net. First attempt, first goal - the Fife crowd would take this all afternoon.

The quality of the attacking play at the other end was also cheering the home fans. In the next ten minutes the floor-munchers created three more clear shooting opportunities, Ellis and Williamson both crashing efforts wide before Thunderbird Nine fucked an even easier chance. Ah hope you've got something more than Greg Tade up yer sleeves for the first division campaign... Lovely man ah'm sure but ye cannae forgive missing an open net fae just six yards oot.

McGlynn's Mobsters were to regret their tawdry finishing even more. Just past the quarter hour mark, we piled forward and scored a second. With the Filth's defence reduced to moaning at the linescheat for offside, Shagger kept on going and reached the ball just before the by line. He scooped over an outstanding cross and young Div Muir simply powered his way in at the far post and headed home unchallenged. As the home fans celebrated, the boors in their pen were apoplectic with rage. With emotions this high and, by the looks of things, cholesterol levels even higher, there was surely a fair chance of a few strokes or MIs at that end before the interval - or was that just wishful thinking?

It would have been almost inevitable had we would extend our lead further before the break but, in spite of creating a couple of gilt-edged chances, neither Smartie nor his new defensive partner, John Ovenstone (both lads missing when it looked easier to score) could add to our tally. Nonetheless, as the teams marched off at the interval, the home fans were buoyed by the prospect of more of the same in the second half.

Alas... The sun was still shining brightly, the pitch still looked immaculate, the halftime pies had gone doon a treat and the lads trotted out as confidently as they'd gone in for their cuppa. But there was something missing. The fact that for all the frailties of the Linos' defence, if we couldnae get intae their half, we'd never be able tae exploit them.

Why we determined that holding back and defending for forty five minutes would be a positive way forward must remain a mystery. It's inevitable that McGlynn would have kicked a few arses in the away dressing room so maybe it made sense to be a bit circumspect for a few minutes. However, the way we stood off them and simply let them have their way in midfield was to ultimately prove to be our downfall.

The guys continued to work hard but the visitors had huge amounts of space and time (Heisenberg would have had a field day...) and simply knocked the ball around until an opportunity to push into the East Fife box presented itself. Everything still seemed to be going through Tade but we were unable to get close enough to him to do much about it. He'd already taken a dive in the box looking for a penalty when, ten minutes in, decided to stay on his feet, slide a pass into the box and stand back and admire as Walker connected perfectly and left Brown no chance. It was a real pisser of a goal but, I guess, no less than their second half play so far had merited. The question now was what the Craw would do to stem the tide.

Sadly, there wasn't much that he could do, such was the onslaught from the Ogres. Joe 90 had a chance to equalise just a couple of minutes later but rattled the ball wide. Shortly after that we had our own opportunity to settle the tie; for pretty much the first time in the second half we'd forced our way forward, Shagger offered the perfect chance to open his account for the season. He out thought his marker well enough but unfortunately his effort careered high over the bar. It was to perfectly sum up our fate this afternoon.

They moved forward again with some considerable ease. The Fife fans could only watch on, fingers crossed and hope that the cave dwellers' finishing could be as wayward as it had been in the first period. It wasn't - but we rode our luck with some last gasp tackling and a couple of goal line clearances. We couldn't keep them out forever, mind, and fifteen minutes from the end of regulation the scores were level.

Thunderbird Nine picked up the ball inside the box and appeared at first to be forced wide. However, with the angle getting ever more acute, he somehow managed to find the room to swing his boot at the ball and fire it towards goal. As the net bulged, the Links Street Loonatics at the far end of the stand were cock-a-hoop (well, just cocks actually...) and celebrated in the way only they can ? they turned on the East Fife bairns and the first aid team. Tade was stupefied that he'd struck pay dirt and Mike Brown looked like he wished the ground would open up etc, etc. He wasn't the only one disappointed that he'd been beaten at his near post.

Sadly, things were to get even worse for the big keeper. As time trundled on and both sides prepared for the inevitable extra time, the Linos made one last concerted attempt to finish it in regulation (well, no' quite regulation; we were already in the 94th minute - fuck knows where the ref found that much injury time). Ovenstone had played a blinder throughout but on this occasion, Joe 90 just managed to get past him a throw over what appeared at first to be a harmless enough cross into the box.

Obviously the keeper's ball, so Iain Williamson seemed to give up and merely stopped his run to the far post. However, Brown made a howler of it, flapping wildly at the ball, grabbing nothing but fresh air. The ball continued on its way, bounced off Williamson's napper and looped goalwards. As Methil approached light speed (the way it does on a Saturday teatime), time slowed down and at the other end of the pitch me and Mr C could only watch on with 900 incredulous Fifers as the ball slid under the cross bar and ended up in the back of the net.

Cue James and his sweary-filled diatribe. Cue the bile-filled screeches from the creatures at the far end of the stand. And cue young Cargill making a last gasp attempt to wrestle the man of the match award away from Lloyd Young. You'd have succeeded, Stuart, but for the fact that the big fucker managed tae drag himself back to his feet walk off the park himself...

Always a bitter pill tae swallow when you lose at home but nae point worrying about it now. At times, especially in the first half, we played well and lessons will certainly be learned from our second half performance. But the distractions of the early cup competitions are now over; we've now got to look forward tae next Saturday and the start of the league campaign. It'll be a tough start so let's get right behind the boys again and head tae Bayview on numbers. Three precious points will be a lovely start to the season!

C'mon the Fife!