The Scottish Cup 1st round and it obviously does get bigger and more important than Cumnock Juniors Fc vs Dumbarton, venue Townhead stadium.

A dreich Friday evening with my nephew starring as the linesman. My relationship with Cumnock Juniors FC stretches back over 20 years. I was acquainted with some ‘Nock’ followers and attended some of their fixtures. A Scottish Junior Cup tie against Tayport, a Junior side from the River Tay area I presumed, with a Port in addition. A healthy visiting support allocated the open terrace opposite the enclosed roofed home terrace. I have no recollection of the score other than The Nock lost.

My lasting memory was the temporary visit of some Glenafton fans. A side from the neighbouring village of New Cumnock their match had been postponed and some worthy lads thought it worthy of a chant and a loud challenge. What challenge that was I can only guess and resulted in the local Police meeting the challenge with prompt ejection.

My late career as a star, my words and description, in the sport of Walking football saw me play a few hours on the hallowed asrtomturf of Stadio Townhead. Aghast at my first sight of the dreadful changing rooms a fellow player assured me that said facilities were ‘miles better than they used to be’. Blooming heck. Nearby Ayrshire village of Auchinleck, home of the mighty Auchinleck Talbot lord it over The Nock. Dominating Scottish Junior football for many years they surely owe some of their success to decent showers and hygienic sanitary facilities. I have no knowledge of how good or terrible Talbot’s toilets are, I await a walking football visit. 

The rain in Scotland last night fell mainly over the uncovered fans. No longer a muddy pitch to act as a leveller. An exciting match with little skill, lots of fast action. Scottish Junior football of the past was famous for infamous high tackles, shoving, blood and snotters and that was only in the warm ups. No longer, referees now can apply the rules of association football freely with no licensed and necessary adaption for thuggery. It is noticeable that older fans complain of fouls missed by the ref. The same older fan who would not that long ago have dismissed decapitation of an opponent as unworthy of a strong talking to. Gentle stuff indeed.

Dumbarton ran out worthy 3-1 winners progressing to round 2. No one was hurt, even the ref left with his dignity intact. Can I in conclusion reveal my brother and myself found the star of the show was the wifie stadium PA announcer. A rather shrill high pitched voice sold the lottery tickets with Ayrshire vigour. Announcing the teams emerging for the 2nd half she encouraged the young team in the shed behind the goals to make some noise, and they indeed followed orders, ken. 

Great entertainment and not only on the astroturf.

Scotland versus England

 3rd April 2022

On this day April 13th, 1946 Scotland played England in the football Victory International. The war had ended and part of the celebrations was a match between the oldest rivals in international football; 140,000 tickets were sold with 30,000 English compatriots expected in Glasgow. All hotels were booked with pubs and restaurants expecting a bumper weekend. Rationing was of course in place however Scots and English fans were recently brothers in arms, many locals would no doubt be sharing a dram.

My young 13-year-old dad left his house, the Anderson Shelter still prominent in his garden. He was wearing his lucky tartan scarf, not so lucky as he was at the last meeting, a 6-1 heavy defeat by mighty England.

He took the tram to his father’s work who had finished his Saturday morning shift. I can only imagine the excitement and trepidation as they walked and talked the few miles to Hampden Park. Entering the massive bowl, they were surrounded by many still in army uniform. As the terraces filled 139,468 souls were entertained by the compere conducting communal singing. The Scots loud renditions of traditional songs followed by that most English anthem sung at FA Cup Finals ‘Abide with me’.

The emotion of the occasion must have been overwhelming, for our Scots players responsibility resting heavily on the single Lion on the navy-blue shirts. The English had 3 Lions on theirs, we had but one, ours however roared.
On this day June 10th, 2017 we played England once again, my late grandfather’s family walked to Hampden more in hope than expectation as we had not the players nor the talent of Baxter or Denis Law. The Tartan Army drawn to The National Stadium just as Bonnie Prince Charlie’s sodjers were to glorious failure. An act of fitba Newtonian gravity sucking us in to inevitable defeat.

England scored first, they always did, victory was theirs, it always is. In the closing minutes however a Scotland free kick.

‘He will never score from there’, and Griffiths did. Another free kick a minute later.

‘He won’t score from there, again?’. Yes, Griffiths did.

Our lungs burst; our ears rung with the Hampden roar. My family hugged, mass hysteria and dancing. Today, England of course equalised in the last minute. What a match, what drama, what a finale. We had snatched a 2-2 draw from the jaws of victory, from misery to happiness to misery.

Some 71 years before, my dad and grandfather stood as the match entered the last seconds, a no score draw perhaps befitting the occasion. All comrades together until Jackie Husband crossed and Jimmy Delaney headed the winner. Scotland had beaten England 1 goal to 0, my grandfather often joyfully related to us the scenes of sheer joy, as men hugged and danced a Hampden highland jig.

They walked home with a victory story we carry as a family tradition some 71 years later. Win lose or draw it’s the day we play England that is important.