Greenock Morton 0-1 Queens Park, Scottish Championship, Cappielow Park, att. 1,741 (c. 120 away)I didn’t expect to see a first last nite at Morton. There I was, walking down the road after the match, minding my own business, when a large yoof came running past with a drum, chased by 4 or 5 other teenagers, a couple of years younger and at least 2 stones lighter. As The Big Lad doubled back round a car, he was surrounded. Now all became apparent...he was a Morton scallywag who’d somehow nicked the Queens Park drum. For a spilt second I worried what would happen. Would the Queens Park jackals set upon their prey? Would the Morton lad use his heft and knock them out, one by one? I wasn’t sure what went on, but they got their drum back, possibly due to a sensible adult or 2 intervening, no blows thrown. What japery! And respect earned amongst his mates for the Morton lad.
I was pleased I’d come. I’m away for a while from next week and I saw there were a few games on in Scotland, midweek. Tues/Weds, what are my options? Well, if I’m to stay in Glasgow, Tuesday is a no-brainer. Greenock Morton are at home and within distance. Wednesday? Well, I see Celtic are at home, and as it’s midweek there’s tickets. However, by the time I look to book, there’s only £31 ‘restricted view’ left. I’m not paying £31 for a restricted view, so I’ll be off to Paisley and St. Mirren.
I remember Morton from childhood. (They renamed themselves ‘Greenock Morton’ in 1994.) They used to be in the Scottish Premier division, but last played there in 1988, which shows how old I am. Cappielow, which Morton have resided at since 1879, is a glorious throwback in time. Down one side, the Cowshed must one of the biggest terraces left in British football, albeit with seating now planted at its front. To its right is another massive terrace, the Wee Dublin End (anything but ‘wee’), which is covered in bench seating. The Main Stand, built in 1931, has a similar pitched roof to the Cowshed. However, a worrying amount of birdsh*t is to be found amongst the seating (or is that just the away end?) The Sinclair Street End, meantime, is another decent sized terrace, open to the elements. All in all, despite a capacity of 11,589 (5,741 seated) this ground could easily fit in, or exceed, its record crowd of 23,500. Easily. The throwback in time is accentuated by a couple of tall floodlights on the Cowshed side, while the pillars of the Main Stand are cleverly utilised for floodlights on the Main Stand roof.
Mind, access is a problem. With the ground wedged inbetween a railway line and a small industrial estate, 2 sets of turnstiles on Sinclair Street have to suffice. (More turnstiles off Hamilton Street presumably mothballed till Morton return to greatness.) Away fans are housed at the far end of the Main Stand, which means walking along a narrow concourse under the stand. Presumably they don’t get trouble in the Scottish Championship, as segregation is non-existent. Maybe if they pulled a Celtic, or a Rangers, in the cup, they’d give them the Wee Dublin End and open up the turnstiles off Hamilton Road?
For the 1st half, I sat with the Queens fans. Morton were all over them for the first 20 odd minutes, so obviously Queens ran down the other end for a bald-pated Zak Rudden to score the only goal of the game, a well placed volley from a right wing cross. ‘He’s got no hair, but we don’t care, Super Zak Rudden’ the 30 or so ultras sang.
At half-time, I went to get my Scotch pie. Why don’t we have these in England? We like pies. I looked on at the gate to the Sinclair Street End, and noticed the steward opening it for a lady. I went for it. I like my stadium wanders. ‘Could I get through please?’ The steward re-opened the gate, maybe thinking I’d come from the terrace for my snack. No wonder capacity is set so low if people can wander hither and thither.
After a munch and a few pics, I settled on being high up on the terrace. However, I was soon forced to move as I could hear a Scouse bloke encouraging the home side. Scousers should be seen and not heard. (I make no apologies for my prejudice. There’s lots of things I don’t like hearing. Bagpipes, fingernails on blackboards, Foo Fighters.) I watched for a few minutes, before deciding to walk on to the Cowshed for a better view. What with the roof supports and inability to see both goals at once, it was just like The Good Old Days. Dark and atmospheric, and, despite the crowd of 1,700, quite busy. Least it was on the halfway line. And an apoplectic bloke, stood with his aged dad, who got angrier as the game disappeared from the home side. He obviously cared, but not enough to stay till full-time. I was in no rush. The train back to Glasgow from Cartsdyke (5 mins from Cappielow) wasn’t for another quarter of an hour.
The Damage:£22 ent
£3 Scotch pie
£8.80 rtn from Glasgow
= £33.80
