Croy Division

The very first Scottish Juniors game I attended was the well-attended Pollok 1 Arthurlie 2, way back in February 2003. The next one was Benburb 5 Royal Albert 1 in September 2006 at the largely overgrown Tinto Park. The third was the opening of a dull new 4G cage at Petershill 1 Cumbernauld 2 in July 2007. All of these visits were in the company of my very good pal Mick Hydes, once of Ashington but a Scottish resident from 1997, initially Cowdenbeath and subsequently Paisley and the first two were on days after Teenage Fanclub gigs at the Barras. I’ve seen The Fannies on three subsequent occasions in Glasgow; 2010 at the ABC, 2014 in Kelvingrove Park and 2018 back at the Barras, but only the middle one of those (Yoker 1 Clydebank 1) saw me get to a Juniors game, though I did manage Partick Thistle 1 Ross County 1 in December 2010.

However, one tradition that Mick established with me a decade ago now, has been the annual end of season trip to Scotland for a Juniors game, made possible by a fixture card that extends into June, on account of myriad cup competitions and a formerly labyrinthine league promotion and relegation play off structure. It began in 2009 with a delve into the East for Bathgate Thistle 5 Forfar West End 2, which took Bathgate up and Forfar down. The next year I returned, alone this time, to Creamery Park for the East of Scotland Cup final, where Linlithgow defeated Mussleburgh 2-1. Back in the company of Mick, 2011 involved a visit to Arthurlie’s magnificent Dunterlie Park for a 2-2 with Irvine Meadow XI. The year after was Shotts 4 Girvan 3 at what was my second favourite Junior ground where, after a classic game, a car full of Neds asked us as we left at full time whether this was an Orange Walk, we were on.

One place they love those is Larkhall and I’d intended to get to the evocatively named Gasworks Park in 2013, but a track malfunction on the Queen Street lower level line put that on the back burner (geddit?) as I returned to Pollok for Glenafton triumphing over Glasgow Perthshire in the West of Scotland Cup final on penalties after a 2-2 draw. To make up for my misfortune, I ventured by myself to Kirkconnell in Dumfries for Kello Rovers 2 Yoker 4 the week after. In 2014, I was lucky enough to visit 2 more superb grounds; the quasi swimming pool that is Maryhill’s Lochburn Park for a 1-1 draw with Larkhall and then the regal magnificence of Linlithgow for my second ever East Juniors ground, seeing them pummel local rivals Bo’Ness United 4-1. Contrasting experiences were offered in 2015; the intensity afforded by Ayrshire’s most severe Tourette’s sufferer during Irvine Meadow XI 2 Arthurlie 2 and the laidback, pastoral ennui of Thornton Hibs 4 Lochee Harp 0, on the day I realised that the East of Scotland was a very different beast to the West. I should state that sectarianism isn’t the only cause of intemperate language in the West; everything is. Nowhere was swearing more popular than Beith 1 Auchinleck Talbot 1 in 2016, where the profanities outnumbered even the midges.

Even more midges in 2017, when at Newtongrange Star, my 4th East ground, where I saw the home side beat Forfar West End 1-0. Last year, I firstly took in Cumnock 2 Auchinleck Talbot 2, where the home side denied their hated local rivals the title and both sets of players had a good pagga on the stairs up to the changers at full time. Finally, the sociological paradise of Saracen Street on the northside saw me take in the two extremes of the Merchant City’s class structure, when Glasgow Perthshire lost 3-1 at home to Pollok. So, at the end of 2017/2018, I’d done 13 in the West and 4 in the East, just in time for a restructure.

The West boasts a healthy 63 teams in 4 divisions, with straight promotion and relegation, bolstered by 2 league cups; one open and one sectional. Nice, neat and logical. In the East they had 64 teams, but now, after mass defections to the Lowland League, including Linlithgow and Newtongrange, there are 36 teams, with a top league and two parallel North and South divisions. There are also 5 cup competitions, sprawling untidily across the arse end of May and the beginning of June, where fixtures aren’t even listed as yet, though I’m hoping to get to one on Saturday 8^th June, if the stars align, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

With all other football commitments and possibilities south of the border exhausted, it meant my first opportunity to head over the border would be Saturday 25^th May, which was also Cup Final day, meaning I’d try and keep away from Glasgow, which ruled out Larkhall. Distance kept me away from Largs and I’d already done Beith and Kello. Having thought deeply about it, I informed Mick that my chosen destination was, almost by both default and necessity, 6^th placed Kilsyth Rangers versus already relegated Girvan in the West Region Championship, or second division in old money. Consequently, I purchased a return to Croy and had an early night on the Friday.

I needn’t have worried about sleeping in as one of our cats had dropped something in the litter so vile smelling that it woke up me an hour early. This gave me a good chance to get sorted sharpish, so I found myself at Central Station in plenty of time, where the pleasant news emerged that because LNER had arsed up the ticketing for the 9.58 to Waverely, a load of us had been upgraded to First Class free, gratis and for nowt. What a result; it enabled me to firstly dismiss images of the red and white underclass who were off to claim the Trafalgar Square Defecation Trophy for the second time in 56 days, and secondly to glug down enough complimentary coffee to allow me to enact my famed Ray Liotta at the end of Goodfellas impersonation as we went through Dunbar.  With a bag weighed down by pilfered bottled water and buckshee bananas, I strode across the station forecourt to catch the 12.30 to Queen Street, calling at Haymarket, Falkirk High and Croy.

To my immense disappointment, the train was predominantly populated by the Gorgie dross, on their way to a predictable Cup final loss to the treble treble hunting Tic. I kept my own counsel and decamped as the clocks were striking thirteen into the teeth of a freezing gale, under slate grey skies and driving rain. Welcome tae Bonnie Scotland.  Indeed. Soon though the bus turned up and whisked me to the teeming North Lanarkshire metropolis of Kilsyth, where just about the only thing to do was mooch about in the drinks section of the local LIDL. Eventually though, Mick turned up with his greyhound Milburn and whisked me to the big game, after a mere 3 wrong turns on the 200-yard journey to the ground.

Having used my ancient, dog-eared WSJFA complimentary pass to get in for free, I did buy raffle tickets. I felt a bit guilty freeloading as Mick managed to get us an invite to the directors’ lounge for stewed tea and ginger snaps.  Through the window, I surveyed the magnificence of Duncansfield Park; elevated grass banking at either end, hard standing that doubled as a car park on one side, in front of the directors’ lounge and bar in one corner and changing facilities at the other, a narrow cinder track around the pitch and the crowning glory; a covered, terraced enclosure that runs the whole length of one side. Truly, it is second only to Arthurlie in terms of the splendour it offers the passing groundhopper, eclipsing the old-style charm of Shotts even.

The game wasn’t bad either. Despite it being a dead rubber, Kilsyth flew at Girvan, making and missing several presentable half chances, before a breakaway on the half hour saw a Girvan striker turn and fire ferociously into the roof of the net for a lead they kept until the break. After taking Davey Stoker’s advice and sampling a delicious Steak pie, we did a tour of the ground during the break, before settling back in the covered enclosure to see Girvan be granted a soft penalty that was finished with aplomb. Almost instantly, a scramble from a corner saw the home side halve the deficit, courtesy of a hopeful, outstretched leg.

A comeback seemed on the cards, but against the run of play, Girvan went 3-1 up when a deliciously curled free kick left the home keeper nonplussed. Kilsyth kept plugging away and reduced the gap again in the last few minutes with a strong finish after a stylish 1-2. It wasn’t enough ad the referee soon brought things to a close. Handshakes and not square goes were the order of the day as we all left the ground, sensing another season was now almost done.

My train to Edinburgh was held up by signals at Haymarket, so I opted to walk back to Waverley to pass the time, skirting the Scott Monument just as Celtic lifted the cup. I set my gaze towards Leith and my beloved Easter Road. The nearest I got to any sunshine on this rainy day. Soon I caught the almost deserted train home and was in the house just after 9; tired, but content. Next week it’s Auchinleck Talbot against Largs Thistle in the Scottish Junior Cup at Hamilton Accies; another one to look forward to.