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Back Of The Net Exhibition 3 Of 11


thewhiteman

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Back of the Net Exhibition 3 of 11

http://www.smisa.net/

ON THE ROAD

Travelling to see the team playing can sometimes be an adventure just getting there and often more exciting than what happens on the pitch....

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I remember travelling with the team to the Anglo-Scottish Cup game against Fulham in 1977. We left Paisley at 9.00am on the Wednesday from Love Street to travel to Craven Cottage in London, the home of Fulham FC. The journey took 9 hours and we arrived at Craven Cottage at 6.30pm for a 7.30pm kick off. When we were due to depart the bus and go into the ground Alex Ferguson, then the St Mirren manager, was waiting to meet us. He boarded our bus and thanked all on board for travelling so far in midweek to support St Mirren and handed all 52 supporters on the bus free stand tickets for the game, which was well appreciated! After the game had finished it was back on the bus, back up to Paisley arriving at 7.00am and then straight to work. It was one of the best away trips of my life! Iain H.

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28th July 2001, a pre-season friendly with Grimsby Town. It was a lovely hot summers day and the Saints fans descended on the town in droves. Many fans met at a local pub with a beer garden unfortunately there was a wedding on in the place at the time! My pal Audreys feet were killing her after the game so she chanced her arm and got talking to a couple of policemen who were heading back into town after the game and they offered us a lift. Unfortunately, I was spotted in the back of a police car and my friends thought I had been lifted! Carol C.

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If you are a St Mirren fan aged under 40, the First Divison title-winning year of 1999/2000 was the best youve ever seen, a rollercoaster season of unforgettable memories. But one that sticks out for me didnt involve swashbuckling football, dramatic last-gasp victories or even an epic drink-the-town-dry title party.

Nope. Mine involves some strips belonging to our arch-rivals Morton, a Saints team being booed on to the park by their own fans, and my realisation the man responsible was my own father.

The game in question was in March of that year, as Tom Hendries exciting young side were locked in a pulsating title battle with Dunfermline. Just two weeks before, they had hosted Clydebank, a club limping towards its demise, and who would finish a miserable season as the UKs worst senior side, with one win and just ten points. Final score St Mirren 8 (EIGHT - McGarry, Lavety x 3, Ross, Murray x 2, Walker) Clydebank 0 (no one).

So when we travelled to face the same opponents two weeks later at their temporary ground-share home of Cappielow, the large away crowd on the terrace behind the goal were in confident mood. That mood was punctured when the teams ran out into the pitch. One set of players were clad in Mortons away top, a late-90s monstrosity of nylon and luminous yellow. The reaction from the away support went like this: BOOOOO....haud on....is that us?

As confusion spread, I started to look shifty. I knew enough about pre-match dressing room routine to know the unexpected attire could only be at the behest of the referee. Who happened to be my dad.

As he explained later that night, St Mirren had turned up with one set of strips, their away ones, which were red and white. Clydebank only had their home shirts, a white-and-red Ajax-style effort. As my dad ruled the colour clash unacceptable, someone was sent back to Paisley to retrieve Saints traditional black-and-white ones. But there wasnt time for them to get there and back for 3pm. There was only one option Mortons kit!

Back on the pitch and perhaps unsettled by this sartorial shambles St Mirren decided it wasnt enough to look like Morton, they should play like them too. Final score St Mirren 0, The Worst Team in Britain 0.

The postscript to the story came eight months and one promotion later. Saints travelled to Ibrox to face Dick Advocaats Rangers. The referee that day? Once again, my dad. And St Mirrens kitman was clearly either colour-blind or liked to travel light, as another clash meant Saints took to the field in Rangers socks.

Final score St Mirren 0, Rangers 7.

I eventually forgave my dad. Colin O.

*

At the end of season 1989-1990 both St.Mirren and Dundee were fighting it out at the bottom of the Premier League to avoid relegation. St.Mirren were 3 points ahead of Dundee with only one game left to play. St.Mirren were due to play Dundee at Dens Park for the penultimate game of the season, therefore, if St.Mirren lost that game, then they would be tied at level points, so, with only one game remaining, it definitely would have been "squeaky bum time" going in to the final match.

Due to the importance of this fixture, St.Mirren generously laid on free transport to Dundee and back with supporters' buses leaving from Love Street car park. The bus dropped us off at the foot of Tannadice Street in Dundee leaving us with a long uphill walk up to Dens Park. My dad, who had a heart condition, suffered an angina attack on the way up, but was kindly taken in to reception by Dundee United staff at Tannadice, given a cup of tea and settled down until his chest pains had gone away. Finally, having declared himself fit to carry on, and not wanting to miss the match, my dad and I carried on up to Dens Park. During the first half the weather was fine and calm, but at the start of the second half the weather took a turn for the worse and the wind picked up. This took the breath from my dad and he suffered a heart attack. We were taken by ambulance to Ninewells Hospital in Dundee where my dad was put into Intensive Care. Fortunately he made a good recovery and was allowed home after 2 weeks. When my mates found out they joked that it was a wonder my dad hadn't taken a heart attack the previous week when the Buddies thrashed Celtic 3-0 at Parkhead! By the way, St.Mirren beat Dundee 2-1 and so my dad and St.Mirren lived to fight another day. John B.

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