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Why Me?!

By Mark Nimmo
Mon, 2nd Apr 2007 9:35pm

Confessions of an Edinburgh Clyde Supporter (31/3/2007: Queen of the South at Broadwood)

Saturday's trip to fortress Broadwood was unlike any other in all my years of making the pilgrimage from Edinburgh. First of all, my Dad has headed off to the Far East on holiday, leaving me only my season ticket and a request that I keep him updated with the score. Secondly, I live in Edinburgh and have got used to the chauffeur driven car that the old man provides on a Saturday!! Lastly, I didn't have anyone to go with. Unfortunately, in a mad moment of weakness I asked the girlfriend. I immediately regret it.

Having spent Friday pestering the good people of PieandBovril and the website Members' Forum for travel advice, I think I have got the trip all figured out. Then I get a phone call: She wants to go shopping in Glasgow before the game. Why does she not understand that Saturdays are sacred? In the interests of my own well being, I agree.

Having trailed the shops of Glasgow, it's time to jump on a train to Croy. Having been directed to the 'ice-station' website, I've printed off walking directions to the ground. It doesn't seem too bad; it's a nice day for a 20 minute stroll. Then a Hamilton fan on PieandBovril declares that walking is to be avoided. He is a Hamilton fan though so I decide to ignore him on the grounds that he is connected with the various undesirables that you may come across at New Douglas Park. No names!!

Having followed my directions, I arrive at the ground around 2pm. Everything is going to plan so far. We get to the Clyde suite and it finally dawns on me: Our shopping in Glasgow means I've missed the AGM. Gutted. It's pointless trying to explain that her dithering over a pair of shoes has cost me a chance to hear about the plans for my team's future.

It's a funny experience watching the game with somebody who doesn't have a clue. (I should probably be used to it by now though; seeing as me and Dad have been going for about 18 years!) Question after question about what is happening. What happened? Is it a goal? Who is that? He has nice legs!

After a turgid first-half and a poor start to the second, it is inevitable that my misery will be compounded by a Queens' goal. A rash tackle and a Dobbie spot-kick rub salt into my wound. Despite hitting the woodwork three times, this is a game that Queens need to win more than Clyde and unfortunately you can tell.

On the walk back to train station, my day doesn't improve. She wants to talk and stuff. Why does she not understand? We got beaten, there is no room for talking. There is only time for dwelling on what might have been!