| We're all on life-support |
| Partick Thistle 9 Queen's Park 1 |
Martin Kelly reports from the warzone. "They're just like us...starting up..." You liar, Hector Cook! Ok, so maybe that's a bit strong, but my God, just look at the scoreline. In fact, don't let it fool you - this was no close game. Hector Cook managed to brainwash 16 people into going to Maryhill to get the urine extracted, but there really is no going back now - it's Morton next week. Baptism of fire, could you say? The debut match of the new supporter's team was indeed that, and not one of us escaped without a few burns on their skin/pride. We all knew it wasn't going to be easy/pretty, but the fleet of cars left Lesser with the occupants in a good mood. The band of merry men and one girl got to Firhill complex at around 1130 and everyone seemed to be sober, and there also appeared to be no evidence of performance enhancing drugs in the bloodstream. I'll admit that I was nervous and I'm sure a few others were too, but I was glad when I was told that Martin Harvey would be starting in goal against the Jags supporter's XI. Hector Cook, who didn't play, had all the tactics sorted out and everyone was the given the position that suited them. The warm up didn't fill us with any confidence. Laughable shots and pathetic crosses looked to be the order of the day (most going over the fence and in to the housing estate) as we all tried to inject some life in to ourselves. Still, it was eleven versus eleven - how bad could it be? As I mentioned, I was benched in the first half along with Alan Raeburn, Richard Johnstone and Derek Stronach and I stood on the touchline mumbling something or another to try and raise spirits. No, Harvey, not those kind of spirits. Right off the bat I knew that they were a good team. They were organised, could play neat passes and they looked to have some real talent in their team. Thistle had an extremely strong left-side and so Eileen Myles and Graeme Shields certainly had a tough task in keeping things in order. It was too tough, however, and Thistle scored two goals in quick succession, the second a delightful chip over the head of Martin Harvey. I felt guilty applauding it, but it really was a superb effort. It didn't really get any better though and Thistle added two more about ten minutes later. There were some signs of hope from E.Myles and Dick, but the power battles were frequently lost. A glimmer of hope did arise just before half time, however. A beautiful long ball found Andy Myles (who clapped before bringing it down) and he crossed in to Alan Johnston who smashed it past the Thistle goalkeeper and in to the net. No, it wasn't a mirage, but a brilliantly worked goal and the boys and girls had something to cheer about at last. At half-time, oxygen masks were handed round. Ok, that didn't happen, but the 45 minutes had taken its toll and some were unable to continue. Eileen, Shields, Gibson and Harvey came off and were replaced by Raeburn, Johnstone, Stronach and myself. Raeburn gave me a fright with a brilliant warm-up shot and I had a slight feeling that I was going to be digging a few up out of the net in the coming 45. It went alright for about 10 minutes, and I made a few saves from crosses, but then the fifth was scored. The shot had a wicked swerve on it and I tried to move with the ball in flight, but I could only palm the ball into the top right-hand corner. With the absence of Shields and Eileen, we were destroyed. Richard Johnstone did his best, but simply couldn't deal with the stamina of the Thistle left-side. The sixth was the epitome of jamminess. A shot was fired in from the edge of the box, and I probably would have collected it had it not been for a guy in front of me back-heading the ball from about 5 yards out. The ball hung in the air for seemingly minutes and I figured I had to jump to see if I could flick it over the bar. I jumped too soon and the ball went over my hands and narrowly under the bar. I was annoyed that I hadn't judged my jump correctly, but the ball had so much spin on it, it would have taken a great effort for me to have stopped it. Still, I felt shattered and Queen's rarely left their half apart from an Ally Dick effort that went just past the post. I managed to prevent a seventh with an unorthodox save with my feet, but minutes later, Thistle hit number sept. A rare break down the right had Bladworth in chase, but a perfect cross was net with a great header and I was left standing. I had committed myself to the cross and it was an error as it wasn't nearly as high as I thought it would be and the forward had the simple task of powering the header in to the net. Queen's midfield was probably the strongest position as the forward line didn't get the ball very often and the defence, well, conceded nine. Their 8th goal was an embarrassment. I was beaten at my near post, a la Cairns at Montose, by a very weak shot. I had screwed up and this wasn't helped by a cry of "How did you let him score that 'keeper?!" from one of the Thistle players. I questioned whether the referee was Colin Hardie as the half seemed to c-r-a-w-l past and goal nine was scored with about five minutes to go. The guy picked the ball up about 25 yards from goal, and powered a perfect shot in to the top corner. It was such an excellent shot, I didn't even dive and I could only watched as the net bulged again. Thankfully, soon after the whistle blew and all players retired back to the changing room. I was disappointed at conceding five, but everyone knew by the end that Thistle truly were a great team with some very good players. |