Views From The Interior Of The Death Star

A good idea of how low down we were sitting.

Main Stand at Ibrox. The upper tier was added sometime in the nineties.
Thistle fans gather in the lower Broomloan
The Govan Stand. Taken from the entrance to the seating area.

Hello! It's been a wee while............

The last time I was at Ibrox I must have been about ten years old. It was a friendly against Chelsea if my memory serves............I was taken along by friends of the family as a wee break from the trials and tribulations of following Partick Thistle.

My return, this time to see Thistle in a Scottish Cup Quarter Final tie, saw me ensconsed in the lower level of the Copeland Road stand, in seats that were so low they were almost beneath ground level. Each time the play moved into the other half of the pitch, you lost track of things. Nothing worse than giving it "C'mon, get it in the box!", only to look up at the video screen in the corner and realise that launching the ball into the box from forty yards out isn't a great idea. Unless yr Bobby Law, but that's another story.............

The frustration at the view was more than made up for by the eerie silence of the home support, the comedy antics of Charlie Adam (apparently he's a footballer!) and a brilliant goal from our loan signing Damon Gray. The joy was to last all of 90 seconds, as Rangers took advantage of one of Thistles few defensive lapses on the night and barged the ball over the line. Reset the scores and all back to Firhill on April 13th. Oh, and it seems someone doesn't like us. We somehow managed to get the shit seats again....................

With regard to the ground itself, it's extremely impressive, especially at night when it takes on the feel of an indoor arena. If the Rangers fans had made half as much noise as we did, there would have been a really good atmosphere to feast on. Andy Cameron provided half time and pre-match 'entertainment'.' Oh dearie me! They say the guy's an institution. I say he belongs in one. Also a word on the 'Subway Loyal'. They were off their marks quick smart again. Having said that, on leaving the ground, one can maybe see why. Snaking queues for both Ibrox and Cessnock stations and tailbacks along Paisley Road West. needless to say, we just hiked it back into town for a pint before the subway shut.

The Day We Went To Gretna

The Raydale Rooster works the home support into a tizzy.

The run down to the south west of Scotland is one of my favourite train journey's ever. The slow wind through the Ayrshire hills, following the Nith to Dumfries and then on to Annan and Gretna providing some breathtaking scenery. The first and last stretches of the journey are nothing special I suppose, but from Kilmarnock to Dumfries is, on a good day at least, something to behold.

At the time I made this journey, Partick Thistle were flirting with relegation, had just sacked Dick Campbell and the team were being taken by assistant Jimmy Bone and of all people Terry Butcher. Gretna on the other hand were flying high, and despite a few hiccups along the way looked to be certainties for the title. Their stock couldn't have been higher, certainly not after the previous seasons Scottish Cup heroics. A year later, and Thistle are still in the first division, but have at least got a half decent manager in Ian McCall and something approaching a plan for building to the future. If only such a plan extended to the finances........... :(

Jimmy Bone went on to be assistant manager with Bobby Williamson at Chester, before getting the punt some weeks before his manager (strange one that...), Terry Butcher has been mad assistant manager of Scotland (even stranger....) and Gretna...........? Well, I've been over than one before. See the article a few posts below. See also, oh I don't know, any Scottish newspaper you can care to mention............

On arriving at Gretna, I seemed to get in tow with a group of lads and their carry-outs. They were a good natured, if noisy bunch and kindly shared their cans. Necking a tin of Carling rat piss with them as we walked across some spare ground towards the town was something of a surreal experience. I suppose it's as close as I'll get to that scene in Trainspotting...... On arrival, I headed to the ground while the rest went on a search for a pub to have a quick round in. I wished them luck, it didn't look like the sort of place that tolerated such things as pubs. The ground itself is remarkable for it's hotch-potch nature. Along one side is a tiny covered terrace, only about three steps deep. At the back of it, you can see out onto the road that runs in front of the stadium.At one end sits a large-ish semi permanant stand, at the other, well, nothing. It looks like this has been cleared to construct something at some point. The other side of the ground consists of a clubhouse, a tiny non-league style stand and finally, a decidedly makeshift looking set of what can only be described as covered bleachers.

The enclosure. Smaller than I thought it was actually......

I'd say the crowd was about 40% Thistle, though the memory is a little fuzzy after all this time. What I did realise after the game was that Gretna seemed to get their fair share of tourists, with a bunch of loud English lads congregating in the pub afterwards to watch the scores coming in. The weird thing was that they seemed to support a dozen different teams each. I have enough trouble following one...........

The game itself was a predictable affair, Gretna showing their class over a deeply lacklustre Thistle team and easing to a comfy 2-0 win. Still, all wasn't lost. It was hard to be in a bad mood considering the lovely Spring weather and the view of the setting sun on the way home. All told, better than sitting in the house all day................

Raydale Park, Gretna

Terry Butcher puts the Thistle players through their pre-match warm-up
View from the enclosure towards the pavillion
The only structure approaching luxury or modernity at Raydale
The Thistle hordes
The ground is basically of non-league standard, though it has a degree of charm that it's hard to find anywhere outside the Juniors.

Forgive Me If I Sound Bitter

"It's A Funny Old Game, Saint......."

It never surprises me the way things come full circle. It does others, for they're eternally credulous, but for me it's the natural order of things. What goes around, comes around, and usually gives you a swift kick in the nuts for good measure. Partick Thistle for instance, a club that has, in the space of 18 years risen and fallen through the Scottish leagues like the proverbial 'Hoors Knickers' (Copyright Dick Campbell). As fairy tales go (and that's all it was), coming from the verge of extinction and relegation to the Third Division, to the SPL in three seasons is pretty special. Two consecutive league titles and a Scottish Cup Semi Final. Not bad all told.

Then theres Livingston. A dream of big things in West Lothian, a dream that came slowly true, as the club worked it's way from the Third Division, to the First, then the Premier, new sides built with open chequebooks with each league victory. They went on to finish third in their first season in the SPL. Essentially, the best team in Scotland outwith the Old Firm. A quick foray into Europe, then a few seasons later, they won the League Cup. Where would it end.....................?

Then Gretna, the village team with the millionaire backer. Three, divisions, three years, a Scottish Cup Final, lost only on penalties, then into the SPL............

Then it comes, for all three, the hangover after the party. For Thistle it was relegation and humiliation, followed by relegation again, only to regain entry to the 1st Division, as if by accident. For Livi, it was Administration, followed by relegation and a chairman who won't turn on the Undersoil Heating in the winter. Gretna make the triumvirate now, as they languish at the bottom of the SPL, their owner in hospital, critically ill, the manager absconding to a team battling relegation in the division below and the realisation that once Brookes Mileson goes to his maker, Gretna may well go back from whence they came at a very rapid pace.

So, am I smug? Am I happy? Nah, not really. Y'see, it's almost happened to my club a few times, oblivion I mean. It's there, waiting in the shadows, ready to finish the job if enough people stop caring and let the dream slide out of sight. The dream hasn't been allowed to die at Firhill, due largely to the fans, but you get the impression it's in the process of being shown the door at Almondvale and it's on it's last legs at Gretna. Thing is, people say, 'Aye, but at least those clubs showed some ambition'. Fair point, but both clubs had owners willing to 'flash the cash' to reach their peaks. Give East Stirlingshire or Airdrie or Cowdenbeath an open cheque book, and they too will ascend until they stall. The point I'm getting at is this. If moderate success can bring about a situation whereby a team as well established as Partick Thistle can crash and burn in this day and age, then the new boys really are living on borrowed time when the bubble bursts and the dream turns to a nightmare, much like yesterdays pristine white snowfall will become todays ugly, muddy slush.

"So iLL Man, you're saying they need to invest in a gritter?"

You know what I mean............. No cheque book stays open forever, not even that of Roman Abramovich. It's not 'Living the Dream' really. It starts that way, but ultimately, it becomes like 'Living The Fairytale', which rapidly turns into a nightmare when reality starts to encroach on the shindig. Fairytales are different from dreams. Dreams are open ended concepts. Dreams can be as grand or as limited as you see fit. You fulfill a dream and then the hard work starts. Dreams are what people cling onto when theres nothing else to hold onto. Fairytales don't allow for failure as they have a finite scope and a limited shelf life, a narrative to conclude. Fairytales involve you getting to or winning cup finals, but preferring not to think about the realities of having no supporters, or travelling up the M74 every fortnight just to see a home game.

Station Park, Forfar

Main Stand and home terracing
Bridie/Pie stall and away terrace from enclosure
Enclosure
Main Stand
Terracing, almost empty.........

I took this trip a few years ago, on a whim really, just to do something and get out of the house. Caught the train to Dundee, then a bus to Forfar, took some photos, fumed silently at Partick Thistle's ineptitude as they fumbled their way to a 0-0 draw against a team of part-timers, had a few pints in a local pub then went home. The ground itself is one of my favourites. It sits in lovely Angus countryside, it's smart and tidy, modern even (compared to the shanty-like feel of some places) You can wander where you please, and I wish I had done, I might have got some more varied shots. It's also home to the famous Forfar Bridie. It's likely that you'll have to make do with a pie though, as the Bridies get snapped up in jig time. It's no big deal though, the pies are cracking too.