Gretna 6-0 Hamilton Accies

The road trip (hopefully a book) continued today in earnest with a mismatch of epic proportions. Gretna weren’t up to much, to be honest. Hamilton, one of the better teams in the division last year, were absolute fucking gash. It could’ve been six or seven before half time and Gretna took their foot off the gas in the second half. The woodwork was hit four or five times as well, while the Accies keeper made two or three good saves. Shame about the four howlers, then. There’s the square root of fuck all to do in Gretna, as I discovered by getting to the town early. There’s always elopement, but I was there with The Legend. That’s a thought too horrible to contemplate. A just about passable cheese and onion pastie was the highlight of the town centre trip, along with a hotel with a sign advertising food, but with no food. Raydale Park (the last Scottish League ground I had left to visit) was, apparently, much changed over the summer. God alone knows what is was like before, then, as it is on a par with Gala Fairydean. Except the Fairydean isn’t twelve quid to get in. The support was a mix of old dudes that had been going since the non-league days (not that many), tourists like us (a few) and a portion of younger folk in club colours (the majority). I’ll bet any amount of money that the latter have been coming two years, tops. They had that new success vibe about them, the cockiness that you see in these newly-filled Chelsea shirts around every town in Britain. The patter was poor, as well. I was easily the funniest person there (which is saying something at a fitba match), and I couldn’t get into it as there were too many easy targets. In truth, the contest was over after about fifteen minutes and, Keystone Cop defending aside, the entertainment value was low, despite six goals. At this rate, Gretna could well end up in the SPL next year, after all.


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