Sutherland - Hunting grounds: a Scottish football safari

For you, Dad

First published in Great Britain in 2007 by Birlinn Ltd.
Second edition published in 2008
This edition published in 2012

West Newington House
10 Newington Road
Edinburgh
EH9 1QS

www.birlinn.co.uk

ISBN 13: 978 1 78027 096 8
ebook ISBN: 978 0 85790 118 7

Copyright Gary Sutherland, 2007, 2008, 2012
Foreword Copyright Stuart Cosgrove, 2007

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The right of Gary Sutherland to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form, or by any means electronic, mechanical or photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available on request from the British Library

Layout by Creative Link, North Berwick

Printed and bound by Cox & Wyman, Reading

Have Fun in Methil. Those are the first tantalising instructions in Gary Sutherlands ambitious and witty journey in search of hope and glory. Who could resist the offer to experience the heightened entertainment of East Fife?

Scottish football is an asylum and patients wander towards it every Saturday, muttering to themselves in various deranged states of insanity. I cannot look at the tortured faces in Hogarths famous painting Bedlam, without thinking of Morton fans.

To suffer defeat and to be denied trophies are the childhood traumas that lie buried beneath our memories and anxieties. There are those that gravitate towards success hoping it will save them, they are the fans that follow big teams hunting the glory of fame and greatness. But viewed clinically, this is little more than a Napoleonic complex, and proves that imperious grandeur is the most distressing illness of all.

Gary Sutherland spends more time with the charming eccentrics of the lower leagues, people, who do not conceal their deficiencies and could not even if they tried. I count myself among their number. As a fan of St Johnstone, I have always been at-risk, a psychologically-troubled child, vulnerable to breakdown, and trying throughout life to stave off full-blown mental illness. To help me, I hoard memorabilia, collect worthless trivia and pursue bizarre and often paranoid theories about my clubs uniqueness.

Did you know, for instance, that Pontius Pilate was a St Johnstone fan? The guy who sent Christ to his crucifixion was born in the small Perthshire village of Fortingall, where his father was stationed as a Roman centurion. When it comes to celebrity-fans, few teams can match Pontius Pilate. Hearts have Ronnie Corbett but its not even in the same millennium, never mind the same league. I like to imagine that Pontius didnt gloat and gave the Saviour a good send-off. Sorry to sentence you to death Jesus, but heres a DVD of Roddy Grants goals for your Last Supper.

I share Gary Sutherlands belief that you can pursue enlightenment in the most mundane places Glebe Park, the pie-hut at Montrose, and the historic Portaloo that once disinfected urine with considerable dignity at Dumbartons Boghead stadium.

Boghead, even the name bristles, with filth.

By embarking on this journey you will soon discover that it is in lower-league Scottish football where history is really made. Queen of the South are the only team whose name appears in the Bible. Raith Rovers are the only team who have been shipwrecked on their way to a preseason friendly. And Alloa Athletic fans show a deft understanding of fascism when they claim that Adolf Hitler got them relegated.

These shards of uniqueness should be cherished. Hundreds of players have won a Champions League medal, but only Livingston have had the sheer bravado to go into administration when their shirt-sponsor was Intelligent Finance.

So go with Gary, meet the muttering masses, drink from the stained glass of Saturday, and relish the unexpected eccentricity that you meet on the way. Have Fun in Methil.

SJFC, close season, 2007/8

42 grounds in the space of eight months. Dozens of pies and more pints than I probably needed. Countless trains and numerous buses. Many miles walked and one ditch fallen into. Howling wind, torrential rain, snow, sleet and that other phenomenon which Ill call sleesh, which is a bit like sleet only wetter, though not quite rain, and unique to Scotland.

To be honest, I dont know how I managed it. I had 15 grounds under my belt by the end of September and 33 before January was out. Thats ridiculous. Im not sure I could repeat the feat and I suppose I dont have to. But would I do it again? Dont be daft. I had my Scottish football safari and lived to tell the tale.

It was a time of Jose Quitongo. A time when St Mirren played at Love Street and Gretna were busy living the dream. A time when the very notion of Rangers facing the threat of liquidation wouldve seemed preposterous.

I dont remember there being so much doom and gloom around Scottish football back then in the 2006-07 season. I mean, it wasnt all magical. Some of it was dismal but it wasnt this grim.

Hey-ho.

Casting my mind back now, a wet Tuesday night in Coatbridge sticks out, though not because it was terrible. Whereas the pie at Somerset Park truly was terrible. But I smile at the memory of bringing an Italian postman to a Dumbarton game and watching East Stirlingshire run rampant at Firs Park.

East Stirlingshire no longer play at Firs Park. They play at Ochilview, the home of Stenhousemuir. And guess what? You can now take the train to Alloa!

Not long after I completed my Scottish football safari, Gretna stopped living their dream and Annan arrived on the scene. Ive gone to Galabank for this new edition and also made a return to Methil to see East Fife in action, something Id been meaning to do. Talk about bonus chapters, eh?

Five years ago, my original ground-hunting expedition reached its conclusion on the edge of the world on a particularly gusty afternoon at Gayfield. I was almost swept away that day in Arbroath.

If youre reading this, its likely that you spend your Saturday afternoon, and perhaps the occasional midweek evening, at a football ground, whether it be at Glebe Park or Borough Briggs or Firhill or wherever it is your team shines or otherwise. And if not, then I recommend you get out there and catch some games. Because Scottish football needs you. You just dont need to be trying to cram 42 grounds into a single season like I did.

But explore away. Go to Methil, if you like.

Gary Sutherland, May 2012.

Listen, dear, Im going to be late tonight.

Where are you off to?

Im journeying to the centre of the earth.

Oh. Wheres that then?

Methil.

Have fun now.

I will. Bye.

Have fun in Methil. Ha. What does my wife think is in Methil? Disneyland? Ill tell you whats in Methil. East Fife are in Methil. And Methil is in east Fife. A paradox that does not concern me, because only the football matters. Or, more accurately, the grounds. All forty-two of them. Thats how many there are in Scotland. Thats how many Im checking out, in one season. Before I check out.