Portie outstrip Primaries with late Cavalry charge The 2011 season started with a defeat for Primaries as a plethora of positional changes served to undo a promising start against staff football’s equivalent of a Peter Pan select. Just as the close season had brought about the inevitable reclassification of team (stal)warts into the “natural wastage” category, so came the green shoots of recovery with budding young upstarts ready to sprout forth and claim a starting berth for the famous Travelling Dangleberries. Marquee signings of yesteryear such as French, Hunter, Gilhooley and Dimeck were replaced with a bulging supporting cast of eager (shouldn’t that be “meagre”? – Ed) talent that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a musical version of Ben Hur. Decked out in their garish new uniforms, Primaries took the game by the scruff of the neck from the first whistle with “Good” Greg Peterkin and Davie “Peas n Gravy” Baillie making incisive inroads into the home rearguard. The breakthrough wasn’t long in coming and it was down to a combination of Forrest-esque goalkeeping calamity and a piece of baffling ingenuity from scurrilous front man Gary Sullivan. “The Fat Douglas’” record on this ground isn’t great. The only thing he ever previously managed to score at Cavalry Park was a quarter of hash from the St.Ninian’s jannies wife. Yet, when he segued into the box with his trademark twinkle toed endeavour, a neat ball outside found McCann who caressed a pass to the feet of Jamieson. The whispering assassin sclaffed a tame effort into the goalies midriff that somehow managed to squirm under his considerable bulk and into the net! 1-0 Primaries. The goal was a huge lift for rookie Primaries gaffer Douglas Kay and he cajoled the back line with shouts of “Nothin’s Gonna Stop Us Now”, “I’m The Leader of the Gang (I am)” and various other inspirational slogans taken from the lyrics of his favourite songs. This musical approach to management seemed to be having the desired effect as midway through the second half, PSFC doubled their lead. Good work from Patrick “Paddy” Durkin allowed “The talented Greg” to scamper into the area only to be faced with a seemingly insurmountable wall of Portobello defenders. However, this kid showed the kind of rank jamminess that helped Sullivan achieve back-to-back Hot Shot gongs, with a comical slip to avoid the onrushing centre half and he shinned a ballooned slice into the roof of the net. 2-0 Primaries.
Such was the burgeoning state of the Primaries back-up personnel that the sidelines were beginning to resemble the kebab shop queue at 4 in the morning. PSFC were benefiting from the time served wisdom of Neil Adams who was marshalling his troops, with Yoda-like tactical nous, from the periphery of the technical area. It made a refreshing change from the usual buffoonery of Willie French who had been conspicuous by his absence after sealing a last minute deal with Dalton scrap for Parson Green’s copper roof tiles. Even at this early stage in the season, it seemed as though spring had well and truly sprung in the Primaries lady garden. New sticks man Petrie leapt like a camp version of Louie Spence to lay hands on a Portobello corner kick and Bruce Wilson was playing like he had just qualified for the NHL draft (“big time Hockey, baby!!”) There had been little in terms of Portobello attacking play thus far, yet with the wind at their backs, the Primaries goalmouth was being threatened on a more regular basis. Just as the first half was drawing to a close, a half cleared corner from the left fell to the 15 year old, 18 stone Portobello centre half who let loose with a 30 yard rocket into the top corner to leave the GialloRossoBlu shellshocked! 2-1 Primaries HT That setback had certainly changed the tone of Kay / Adams half time team talk and the old doubts began to surface after McCann’s untimely reminder that “We never win when it’s windy!” (Christ! He’s like Private Fraser from Dad’s Army! – Ed) After several positional changes, the second half started with Primaries hamstrung by a two-pronged, meteorological nuisance. Not only had the breeze stiffened to a callous, unremitting gale, which toyed with the away side’s attempt at a cultured passing game, the sun had also taken up position in the direct eye line of the PSFC attack. The upshot was the sight of Morrison and Jamieson literally running away from the ball instead of heading it, amid boos of derision from the bench, which only served to compound Primaries problems.
Gaffer Kay – Before....
and After!
Wave after wave of Portobello attack finally resulted with an equalizer for the home side. A corner from the left was whipped into the Primaries box, straight onto the head of the same 14 year old, 23 stone centre half who bulleted a header goalwards. The bizarre pairing of Wilson and Petrie (like Morecombe and Wise, but funnier) almost kept the effort out, only for an attacker to prod home from close range. Bugger. 2-2 The once cool exterior of Gaffer Kay had long since been replaced with a damned fine stab at a Ming the Merciless impression, as his calamitous charges frantically tried to sub themselves off the park. As the clock ticked down, Sullivan was brought on in a desperate, last ditch attempt to find a winner. Unfortunately, the sight of the unfit, overweight, number 11 floundering around the park like a lobotomised seagull only served to spur the home side on. It was hardly a surprise when another Portobello set piece was launched into the box and an orange adorned attacker coolly slotted past a now completely bewildered Petrie. Bastards! 3-2 Portobello. FT. So, then, a last gasp defeat for P.S.F.C that will have undoubtedly struck at their core ethos of good natured banter and gentlemanly fair play. One man dared to turn back the clock and provided poise, passion and a penchant for pitifully ponging perfumery. Yes, Mr Old Spice (High Endurance) himself: - Paddy Durkin. Man of the Match. Primaries Team: - Petrie; Kay, Morrison, Durkin, Wilson; McCann, Peterkin, Baillie, Smith; Jamieson, Sullivan. Subs: - Kapanda, Adams, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist, Trialist.