Dave M

I'm happy that he has got a move which he is happy with, and having played with us as a Newcastle youth, it now looks very very likely that he will make a living from football. What a great result for him! I didn't like his first game for us, but then he quickly became a real part of the team and some brilliant performances and goals.

That goal at Hampden was not just a beautiful move finished with a stunning strike, but it was the single most unbelievable few seconds I've ever experienced supporting saints. I was too young for the 87 final, and I was never sure I'd ever experience a moment like that. That Newton goal is something I'll remember everything about for the rest of my life.
I'm sure it's not just me. I hope Conor knows that thousands of fans will remember him for that for the rest of their lives.

I'm happy that he has got a move which he is happy with, and having played with us as a Newcastle youth, it now looks very very likely that he will make a living from football. What a great result for him! I didn't like his first game for us, but then he quickly became a real part of the team and some brilliant performances and goals.

That goal at Hampden was not just a beautiful move finished with a stunning strike, but it was the single most unbelievable few seconds I've ever experienced supporting saints. I was too young for the 87 final, and I was never sure I'd ever experience a moment like that. That Newton goal is something I'll remember everything about for the rest of my life.
I'm sure it's not just me. I hope Conor knows that thousands of fans will remember him for that for the rest of their lives.

"Could the owner of the vehicle, registration 'C.. H.. E.. E.. R.. I.. O..', please return to there vehicle as it has been sitting at the exit gate for over eight months."

Suspicions are fair play, but presumptions are just stupid.
He is one of our best players and I'm gutted to have heard this today, but football aint everything and Paul now has a history of attacking police which is fking stupid behaviour from any adult. He fully deserves the jail sentence which is coming to him (only because its not the first time he's done it!), which is a shame because he has great talent on the pitch.
It's also pretty embarrasing for the club too, and a major headache which affects more than just the player himself.
Having said that, I'd support his rehabilitation and will still support him in the jersey. Everyone makes mistakes I guess, some more than others, and perhaps a sentence will be good life changer.

Thats a good few posts, and I think everyone gets your point. You can surely shut up now.
I was surprised that only 2 of the 6 clubs in the SPFL participated in remembrance. Not ony because they have done it every other year,.. or even as a mark of respect, what with being very large community bases and a focus of many thousands of people,... but even more so because pretty much every club had players and fans killed in the great war, not to mention WWII. To forget about those players and fans who served is an absolute disgrace.
The little anti-british, anti-army, anti-everything chompers can easily think their own thoughts, or take solace in the company of a Celtic supporting atmosphere outside the ground if they want to go all 'Celtic'. I'm sure the vast majority would've appreciated a minutes silence, more out of respect for the sacrifice of the fallen than anything else.

Thats a good few posts, and I think everyone gets your point. You can surely shut up now.
I was surprised that only 2 of the 6 clubs in the SPFL participated in remembrance. Not ony because they have done it every other year,.. or even as a mark of respect, what with being very large community bases and a focus of many thousands of people,... but even more so because pretty much every club had players and fans killed in the great war, not to mention WWII. To forget about those players and fans who served is an absolute disgrace.
The little anti-british, anti-army, anti-everything chompers can easily think their own thoughts, or take solace in the company of a Celtic supporting atmosphere outside the ground if they want to go all 'Celtic'. I'm sure the vast majority would've appreciated a minutes silence, more out of respect for the sacrifice of the fallen than anything else.

So why bring politics into it ? Great to see Andy win it, not for Scotland or for Britain but winning it for himself.

No one complained when the lifted the league cup with loan signings scoring the goals.

No one complained when the lifted the league cup with loan signings scoring the goals.

No one complained when the lifted the league cup with loan signings scoring the goals.

So we get to keep the League cup then?

I like greggs stuff because its tasty and its cheap... but i dont think it will be cheap in football grounds so in that case, i wouldnt bother.
I'd much rather that St Mirren, as Paisley's biggest publicity asset, would help provide a massive customer base for a local business. Surely that is a win-win for the town?

I've been in the away end at Newcastle (I travel with West Ham a lot).
The best bit is having a pint at the top of the stairs and watching every other fan celebrate reaching the top like its a mountain climb. Its a workout! Almost had my head chopped off by a plane's wing at half time.

So we get to keep the League cup then?

1, 2, and 3. The final whistle.

That final whistle is something I've dreamed of for decades. I never really knew how it would feel, if it did ever happen in my lifetime. I always imagined myself leaping 6ft into the air, but that didn't happen.

Instead, when the final whistle went, I sort of just froze still while that massive wall of sound blew up around me and I think I just stood there.

I thought of my past, my childhood, my Kelvin Holmes strip.
I thought of my family and my friends.
I thought of Love Street.
I thought about those fans of 1926 who stood on the same spot as me a century ago, and wondered if they were still there on that terrace.
I thought of my mum, long since departed.
I thought of the Mars bar she used to stick in my jacket pocket "for half-time" as a boy.
I thought about my 30 years of life so far, everything I've done, everything I haven't done, and what happens now?
I thought about everything, because everything I know and am is usually invaded by my team in one way or another.
I thought I would be jumping about the place but I couldn't. I just stood there and I was totally surrounded but completely alone for a moment.
My mate took a photo of me, and my dad, sister and I had a bit of a huddle. Everything just came out for some reason.

Don't get me wrong, I was my usual arsehole self again pretty quickly, but that one minute after the final whistle was the single longest minute of my life. I remember every one of those 60 seconds.

Like life flashing before your eyes....

Mental.

No football club has the right to do that to someone, but once it gets into you, it gets in really deep there's no getting rid of it.

St Mirren til I die.

1, 2, and 3. The final whistle.

That final whistle is something I've dreamed of for decades. I never really knew how it would feel, if it did ever happen in my lifetime. I always imagined myself leaping 6ft into the air, but that didn't happen.

Instead, when the final whistle went, I sort of just froze still while that massive wall of sound blew up around me and I think I just stood there.

I thought of my past, my childhood, my Kelvin Holmes strip.
I thought of my family and my friends.
I thought of Love Street.
I thought about those fans of 1926 who stood on the same spot as me a century ago, and wondered if they were still there on that terrace.
I thought of my mum, long since departed.
I thought of the Mars bar she used to stick in my jacket pocket "for half-time" as a boy.
I thought about my 30 years of life so far, everything I've done, everything I haven't done, and what happens now?
I thought about everything, because everything I know and am is usually invaded by my team in one way or another.
I thought I would be jumping about the place but I couldn't. I just stood there and I was totally surrounded but completely alone for a moment.
My mate took a photo of me, and my dad, sister and I had a bit of a huddle. Everything just came out for some reason.

Don't get me wrong, I was my usual arsehole self again pretty quickly, but that one minute after the final whistle was the single longest minute of my life. I remember every one of those 60 seconds.

Like life flashing before your eyes....

Mental.

No football club has the right to do that to someone, but once it gets into you, it gets in really deep there's no getting rid of it.

St Mirren til I die.

1, 2, and 3. The final whistle.

That final whistle is something I've dreamed of for decades. I never really knew how it would feel, if it did ever happen in my lifetime. I always imagined myself leaping 6ft into the air, but that didn't happen.

Instead, when the final whistle went, I sort of just froze still while that massive wall of sound blew up around me and I think I just stood there.

I thought of my past, my childhood, my Kelvin Holmes strip.
I thought of my family and my friends.
I thought of Love Street.
I thought about those fans of 1926 who stood on the same spot as me a century ago, and wondered if they were still there on that terrace.
I thought of my mum, long since departed.
I thought of the Mars bar she used to stick in my jacket pocket "for half-time" as a boy.
I thought about my 30 years of life so far, everything I've done, everything I haven't done, and what happens now?
I thought about everything, because everything I know and am is usually invaded by my team in one way or another.
I thought I would be jumping about the place but I couldn't. I just stood there and I was totally surrounded but completely alone for a moment.
My mate took a photo of me, and my dad, sister and I had a bit of a huddle. Everything just came out for some reason.

Don't get me wrong, I was my usual arsehole self again pretty quickly, but that one minute after the final whistle was the single longest minute of my life. I remember every one of those 60 seconds.

Like life flashing before your eyes....

Mental.

No football club has the right to do that to someone, but once it gets into you, it gets in really deep there's no getting rid of it.

St Mirren til I die.

1, 2, and 3. The final whistle.

That final whistle is something I've dreamed of for decades. I never really knew how it would feel, if it did ever happen in my lifetime. I always imagined myself leaping 6ft into the air, but that didn't happen.

Instead, when the final whistle went, I sort of just froze still while that massive wall of sound blew up around me and I think I just stood there.

I thought of my past, my childhood, my Kelvin Holmes strip.
I thought of my family and my friends.
I thought of Love Street.
I thought about those fans of 1926 who stood on the same spot as me a century ago, and wondered if they were still there on that terrace.
I thought of my mum, long since departed.
I thought of the Mars bar she used to stick in my jacket pocket "for half-time" as a boy.
I thought about my 30 years of life so far, everything I've done, everything I haven't done, and what happens now?
I thought about everything, because everything I know and am is usually invaded by my team in one way or another.
I thought I would be jumping about the place but I couldn't. I just stood there and I was totally surrounded but completely alone for a moment.
My mate took a photo of me, and my dad, sister and I had a bit of a huddle. Everything just came out for some reason.

Don't get me wrong, I was my usual arsehole self again pretty quickly, but that one minute after the final whistle was the single longest minute of my life. I remember every one of those 60 seconds.

Like life flashing before your eyes....

Mental.

No football club has the right to do that to someone, but once it gets into you, it gets in really deep there's no getting rid of it.

St Mirren til I die.

1, 2, and 3. The final whistle.

That final whistle is something I've dreamed of for decades. I never really knew how it would feel, if it did ever happen in my lifetime. I always imagined myself leaping 6ft into the air, but that didn't happen.

Instead, when the final whistle went, I sort of just froze still while that massive wall of sound blew up around me and I think I just stood there.

I thought of my past, my childhood, my Kelvin Holmes strip.
I thought of my family and my friends.
I thought of Love Street.
I thought about those fans of 1926 who stood on the same spot as me a century ago, and wondered if they were still there on that terrace.
I thought of my mum, long since departed.
I thought of the Mars bar she used to stick in my jacket pocket "for half-time" as a boy.
I thought about my 30 years of life so far, everything I've done, everything I haven't done, and what happens now?
I thought about everything, because everything I know and am is usually invaded by my team in one way or another.
I thought I would be jumping about the place but I couldn't. I just stood there and I was totally surrounded but completely alone for a moment.
My mate took a photo of me, and my dad, sister and I had a bit of a huddle. Everything just came out for some reason.

Don't get me wrong, I was my usual arsehole self again pretty quickly, but that one minute after the final whistle was the single longest minute of my life. I remember every one of those 60 seconds.

Like life flashing before your eyes....

Mental.

No football club has the right to do that to someone, but once it gets into you, it gets in really deep there's no getting rid of it.

St Mirren til I die.

1, 2, and 3. The final whistle.

That final whistle is something I've dreamed of for decades. I never really knew how it would feel, if it did ever happen in my lifetime. I always imagined myself leaping 6ft into the air, but that didn't happen.

Instead, when the final whistle went, I sort of just froze still while that massive wall of sound blew up around me and I think I just stood there.

I thought of my past, my childhood, my Kelvin Holmes strip.
I thought of my family and my friends.
I thought of Love Street.
I thought about those fans of 1926 who stood on the same spot as me a century ago, and wondered if they were still there on that terrace.
I thought of my mum, long since departed.
I thought of the Mars bar she used to stick in my jacket pocket "for half-time" as a boy.
I thought about my 30 years of life so far, everything I've done, everything I haven't done, and what happens now?
I thought about everything, because everything I know and am is usually invaded by my team in one way or another.
I thought I would be jumping about the place but I couldn't. I just stood there and I was totally surrounded but completely alone for a moment.
My mate took a photo of me, and my dad, sister and I had a bit of a huddle. Everything just came out for some reason.

Don't get me wrong, I was my usual arsehole self again pretty quickly, but that one minute after the final whistle was the single longest minute of my life. I remember every one of those 60 seconds.

Like life flashing before your eyes....

Mental.

No football club has the right to do that to someone, but once it gets into you, it gets in really deep there's no getting rid of it.

St Mirren til I die.

1. when Goodwin lifted the cup
2 reading the papers in work, the old firm fans did not understand
3. when my Dad told me last night he had know for 5 days that he had cancer but didnt want to ruin the weekend by telling me.
and
4. typing number 3.