Season 2012/2013: Match 6: Montrose 1 Edinburgh City 3 (William Hill Scottish Cup Second Round)

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away,

Then I went to see Montrose play -

Oh I wish it was still yesterday.

Early draft of the lyrics for The Beatles' Yesterday, by Paul McCartney, 1965

Last week, Montrose matched the 2010/2011 Scottish Premier League champions during the first half at Ibrox, before Rangers' better fitness paid off in the second half.

Today Montrose were a miserable side to watch, with absolutely no redeeming features to their play at all.

They barely strung two passes together all afternoon. There was a lack of penentration (behave), with Scott Johnston and Jamie Winter on the bench. Jonathan Crawford, having removed his Screech-like hair, suffered from a Samson-like loss of power, while Terry Masson was unusually ineffective alongside him in midfield.

The tried and tested useless and obvious tactic of punting the ball long to Garry Wood was on show again today, and it got Montrose precisely nowhere. Leighton McIntosh looks as though he may never even have heard of football before, let alone played it.

Montrose were cuffed by the East of Scotland league team today, second to every ball and reduced to half-arsed, long-range shots. The defence was regularly posted missing and David Crawford demonstrated no confidence at all in goals.

Crawford was just one of the players at fault when Edinburgh opened the scoring in the eleventh minute, tipping the ball back into play from a shot when he would have done better to tip it out for a corner. But his was just one of the errors, Masson having given the ball away in midfield and all four defenders standing watching while Robbie Ross poked the ball into the net.

Montrose scrambled an undeserved equaliser two minutes into first half injury time, Paul Lunan heading in from a David Gray corner.

Montrose actually enjoyed a brief period of decent play midway through the second half, but that period of decent play produced no goals, and the home side quickly reverted to type.

Edinburgh City moved back in front 13 minutes from the end, Ross heading in from a Ryan Wilson cross. And they completed the scoring six minutes later when Scott Fusco poked home from a corner.

There were no highlights from Montrose. This was as bad as I've seen them for a while. None of the players looked like scoring, even when actually scoring. The defence was dire, with Lunan and former Aberdeen centre back (anyone who has seen Aberdeen playing football over the past 20 years will be hearing alarm bells now) Phil McGuire struggling to do anything useful. Although when 3-1 down, they did start dicking about at the back, turning back on themselves and playing the ball back to Crawford.

The fullbacks were marginally better, but struggled to string find any of their own players with the passes. Of the starting line-up, only the wingers looked vaguely useful, threatening with the odd run (Young) and making some decent crosses (Gray).

Johnston should have started instead of McIntosh, and we can hope that Jamie Winter's fitness and dietary needs will allow him to make the starting line-up in place of Jonathan Crawford soon. Although Terry Masson was shite today as well, so removing either from the starting eleven is acceptable.

I've rarely felt as positive about Montrose as I did after 45 minutes last week. I've rarely felt as negative as I did for the full 90 today.

One 'highlight' was seeing an Edinburgh City player receive a volleyed ball in the testicles from a range of about five yards. It's never funny when it happens to you, but it never ceases to amuse those around you. The boy went down like he'd been shot, and nothing the Edinburgh City physio could do was ever going to fix it.

Man of the Match: Only two players in contention here. None of the Montrose players were good, but David Gray and Lloyd Young were the least shit. I'll go with Gray, who set up Lunan's goal with a corner, not long after Young had sent a free kick into orbit.

Season 2012/2013: Match 5: Rangers 4 Montrose 1 (Irn-Bru SFL Division Three)

It was a day of divided loyalties today, with the team I've supported since I was a boy meeting the side I've followed through thick and very thin over the past five years.

Today marked my first visit to Ibrox since Rangers were resurrected in Division Three. The only noticeable change from the SPL days was that the streets around the ground were a bit quieter before the match, but that might be due more to the fact that my esteemed press corps colleague had us in Glasgow at noon for a 3pm kick-off.

But by the time the match got underway, more than 45,000 punters had streamed through the turnstiles. Montrose didn't seem overawed by the occasion, even though for most of their players it was their first experience of playing in front of such a large crowd.

Stuart Garden even had the balls to play two up front, Garry Wood starting up top alongside Leighton McIntosh. Terry Masson (called Terry Mason in the official team lines - I'd put that down to an accident anywhere except Ibrox) lined up alongside Jonathan Crawford in central midfield, Screech deciding that there can never be enough crazy hair on one's head and complementing his jewfro with an ill-advised bumfluff moustache.

Talking of crazy hair, Lloyd Young had had a rush of blood to the head the night before the match and carved his head into weird patterns and formations that were perhaps designed to strike fear into the hearts of Ian Black and Lee McCulloch, but would instead be of more interest to conspiracy theorists and cryptologists, who could surely find some hidden message amongst the swirls.

David Gray played on the right wing in front of Stephen McNally, with Alan Campbell and Paul Lunan at centre back and Ricky McIntosh on the left. David Crawford continued in goals and looked set for a busy afternoon.

In a sensible world, Rangers and their full-time players would have torn Montrose apart at Ibrox. But Montrose battled hard in the early stages, Leighton McIntosh coming close and Garry Wood demonstrating why no-one refers to him as "twinkle-toed Garry Wood" when he got the ball caught in amongst his feet in front of goal.

Even in the first half, it looked as though Alan Campbell's arthritic knees could be Montrose's undoing, with Dean Shiels threatening on a couple of occasions. It therefore came as no shock when the Ulsterman opened the scoring in the 26th minute, bursting past both Campbell and Lunan to fire into the net.

What did come as a shock six minutes later was when Montrose defied the odds to equalise. The visitors won a free kick on the right, David Gray whipped in a cross and either Garry Wood or Rangers right back Anestis Argyriou (possibly the worst player I've ever seen in a Rangers shirt) headed it into the net. Wood wheeled away with a massive grin as though he'd scored it, although my first instinct was to 'award' the goal to Argyriou. Either way, it was a shock, and Ibrox muttered its discontent.

Lowly Montrose therefore disappeared up the tunnel at half time holding Rangers to a draw. The break allowed the members of the Montrose press corps (members: 2) to ponder some of life's big questions:

• Where is Lee Wilkie?
• Why is Stuart Garden wearing shorts?
• Why don't Montrose give the reporters free pies and Bovril?
• Will Terry Masson get sent off or just booked today?
• Seriously, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH LLOYD YOUNG'S HAIR?

The only one we felt we could reliably answer was the first, as we decided that Lee Wilkie had been eaten by Jamie Winter on the team bus. He may also have eaten Jonathan Crawford's fingers, hence the 'midfielder' (I use the term loosely) wearing a stookie for the duration of the match.

It took only nine minutes of the second half for Rangers to move back in front, Lewis MacLeod turning Young and his crazy hair in the box, blasting a shot across Crawford and into the net.

Five minutes later and the match was over as a contest, MacLeod turning provider for McCulloch, the Rangers captain poking the ball under Crawford.

I know it's tantamount to heresy in the current Rangers climate, but I've never been a massive fan of McCulloch's - I think his style of football relies too much on brawn over finesse. Now that he's been elevated to the role of skipper, there's also evidence creeping in that the position is going to his head - there were a couple of occasions where I thought he considered he should get away with things because he's the Rangers captain. Towards the end of the match, he was tripped by Scott Johnston, and the look he gave Montrose's woodpecker/striker suggested something along the lines of "Come within five feet of me again and I'll rip your heid aff you wee prick". It's not something pleasant to see in an experienced professional.

Both sides used all three subs, Rangers bringing on Fraser Aird, Robbie Crawford and Francesco Sandaza, Montrose introducing Jamie Winter ("Ah pure love Sandaza, but I couldnae eat a whole wan"), Scott Johnston and Phil McGuire. Winter was introduced to a rousing reception from Rangers' Blue Order, owing a little to his well-known love of all things Rangers. His first touch was a typically audacious 35-yard free kick that on this instance rocketed high into the Broomloan Stand.

Rangers completed the scoring with eight minutes to go, Crawford side-footing past Crawford while Crawford lumbered around doing nothing useful.

In truth, by the end Montrose were simply trying to keep the score down. I'm sure I saw Alan Campbell arguing with his legs on at least two occasions and giving himself a jump start towards the end, while Paul Lunan decided that if Jamie Winter wasn't going to eat a whole Sandaza, he'd kick it to death instead.

So Montrose could return home with their heads held high. They were beaten but not disgraced, even if they never threatened to spoil Ally McCoist's 50th birthday party. It was always going to be tough on the massive Ibrox pitch in front of 45,000 home fans, especially in the last 20 minutes against full-time players.

The novelty factor alone made it a worthwhile trip - quite how Peterhead in January will compare remains to be seen.

Man of the Match: None of the Montrose players disgraced themselves, and none could be overly disappointed with their performance. Lee Wallace gave Stephen McNally a torrid time down the Montrose right, but Rangers were less effective down the right, with Young and McIntosh generally coping well. The centre backs held the line well throughout the first half, only really toiling as the game entered its last quarter. The midfield was never over-run, which was encouraging given that they were playing against internationals. And Garry Wood was a notable success up front, keeping Emilson Cribari and Ross Perry busy throughout. Overall, I think Montrose's strongest performer was David Gray, helping to keep some of Wallace's runs in check and whipping in a perfect free kick for Montrose to equalise.

Season 2012/2013: Match 4: Montrose 0 Annan Athletic 0 (Irn-Bru SFL Division Three)

The last time a Montrose match ended goalless, some reptiles were beginning to develop fur and shy away from egg-laying in favour of giving birth to live young; Rangers were an SPL side on the verge of an xth consecutive league title; Martin Boyle wasn't playing for Dundee; and Dougie Cameron had a full head of hair.

Perhaps the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are cantering towards us as 2012 enters its back half - maybe the Mayans had it right after all, and we've only got a few more months to live. Either that or the planets are aligning and some crazy shit is about to go down (I understand that is yoof speak for "something is about to happen").

Whatever is happening, Montrose and Annan - a pair of sides you can generally rely on to rattle in a goal or nine - drew a collective blank today.

If the end of the world is approaching, I don't think today's match will be one of the moments that will flash before my eyes at the moment of apocalypse - one of those unforgettable occasions to live long in the memory.

Only 267 folk could be arsed to turn up for today's 'clash', Montrose's population having conceded defeat now that the one lifeform that they could previously regard as a footballer has departed to do football somewhere else.

Now that we are in the Post-Boyle (PB) era, Montrose are going to struggle to find goals, given that Scott Johnston is an angry and excitable, but ultimately goal-free, human/Woody Woodpecker hybrid, and Garry Wood is what is euphemistically known as a 'target man' (ie a striker who doesn't, emmm, strike).

Lloyd Young, having taken it upon himself to score goals over the past few weeks, decided to have a rest today, which would have been perfectly acceptable had Stuart Garden not selected him in midfield.

Leighton McIntosh came off the Montrose bench late on, bringing with him an air of intrigue, rumours of an ability to score, but unfortunately not his shooting boots.

In fact, Montrose's closest attempt of the match came in injury time from the unlikely airborne source of Alan Campbell. Launching himself through the air, the arthritic centre back contected with a peach a volley that came back off the crossbar, McIntosh poking the rebound out for a goal kick.

Truth be told, Montrose would have been worth a win today, with a combative performance that only occasionally flirted with the "let's pump it up the park and see if that works" routine that has dogged them over the past five matches/months/years/decades.

With a bit more luck, or a Martin Boyle-shaped presence in attack (or even a Paul Tosh-shaped lump up front), Montrose would have got the win.

So, the weeks Montrose score goals, they concede them with merry abandon. The week they keep a clean sheet, they couldn't score in Vegas with a prince in tow.

Winter is coming...

Man of the Match: The churlish part of me wants to nominate Annan goalkeeper Alex Mitchell, who secured a point for the visitors with some excellent saves. David Crawford, his Montrose counterpart while Saaaaaaandy Wood gets his beak fixed, was also a strong contender, marshalling his defence well. Speaking of the defence, the whole back four looked good, and kept Annan at bay throughout. None of the Montrose midfield shone especially brightly, although David Gray had his moments. And the strikers worked hard but ultimately came away empty-handed. Over the course of the match, I'd nominate Stephen McNally as having had the strongest 90 minutes, driving forward from right back without leaving acres of space behind him.

Season 2012/2013: Match 3: Montrose 2 Clyde 3 (Irn-Bru SFL Division Three)

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Montrose, buoyed by an impressive start to the season that has seen them eliminate Highland League Inverurie Loco Works from the League Cup and Division One Cowdenbeath from the Challenge Cup, went into yesterday's match in a positive frame of mind.

Throw into the mix that the aggregate score from Clyde's previous five visits to Links Park was 22-3, and there could only be one winner.

I was so confident that Montrose would beat Clyde again that I did something that common sense normally prevents me from doing, and stuck money on a Montrose win. Not just a win - £10 on Montrose to win even after giving Clyde a 1-0 head start.

It all looked good in the first half hour, Lloyd Young firing home from 25 yards after 11 minutes, then Paul Watson volleying in from the same range after 25 minutes.

Montrose played sleek passing football, crossed dangerously and kept Clyde penned back in their own half. But for some unfortunate finishing, they could have gone in at the break leading by three or four.

Everything in the world was good, and my bet was a sure-fire winner.

Cue the second half. Montrose, having deployed their own brand of pass and move football in the first half, took it upon themselves to play long high balls to no-one in particular for the duration of the second period.

Everything that had been good about the Montrose side in the first half vanished. Clyde started seeing more and more of the ball, and Montrose became sloppy and looked less and less confident.

The rot truly began to set in just before the hour mark when former Annan man Bryan Gilfillan, playing as a trialist, was handed an easy finish when sent one-on-one with Montrose goalkeeper Sandy Wood.

Bad turned to worse four minutes later when John Neil latched onto a long ball over the top and fired into the empty net.

And the turnaround was complete 10 minutes from time when a neat Clyde passing move ended with Stuart McColm shooting into the bottom corner.

Gutting isn't the word. Montrose were so good in the first half that another 5-0 or 8-1 win wasn't unthinkable. But they were so poor in the second half that they could have shipped five or six themselves.

I can't understand why they went from passing the ball with confidence to resorting to the woeful and aimless punts up the park.

The team is short on personnel - Montrose could only name four substitutes yesterday, none of whom were called into action. Garry Wood played at centre back in place of Paul Lunan, while Screech Crawford was suspended and Jamie Winter's dodgy groin ensured he remained in the stand wearing a baseball cap.

It's a disappointing start to the season. 45 minutes in and Montrose were two points and two goals ahead of Rangers. By the time the 90 were up, they were a point behind and a goal worse off.

If we can't see out a match against Clyde when we're leading two nil, this is going to be a long, hard campaign.

Man of the match: In the first half, all of the Montrose players played well. Sandy Wood's shouting and command of his defence were impressive. Stephen McNally drove the team forward from right back. Lloyd Young and Scott Johnston were constant threats from midfield. Martin Boyle kept Clyde on the back foot. And Paul Watson and Craig McLeish continued to look like inspired signings. But in the second half, few of the players came out with pass marks. Unforced errors, aimless punts and misplaced passes were in abundance. Only Johnston and Watson continued to look the part. Overall, Watson gets my vote, giving a commanding performance at left back in the first half, chipping in with a peach of a goal, and attempting to keep the momentum going even after the tide turned in the second half.

Sneak Preview...

...of the Scotland squad for the 2018 World Cup in Russia, courtesy of my current Football Manager 12 adventure.

Warning: Kerbs Can Be Dangerous

Season 2012/2013: Match 2: Montrose 4 Inverurie Loco Works 2 (Ramsdens Cup North East Section Round One)

I take it all back.

For the past few weeks, I've been predicting that Inverurie Loco Works, the third best team in the Highland League, would pummel Montrose, one of the worst teams in the Scottish Football League.

Montrose, for those not up to date with happenings in deepest, darkest Angus or the more fetid end of the Scottish game, are not a good side. They weren't a good side last season, and half a dozen players have left since then.

It was therefore in a mood of resignation rather than hope that I traipsed to the North Sea Nou Camp for the Ramsdens Cup.

And my prediction appeared to be coming true when Locos took the lead after 14 minutes, Stuart MacKay noticing that Sandy Wood had become temporarily transparent and powering a shot straight through him.

Paul Watson must have masochistic tendencies, having last week signed up for a third spell at Links Park, but he had a "debut" to remember, curling a beautiful free kick in off the post to level the scores after 26 minutes.

The score remained tied at half time, although Montrose had probably enjoyed the better of the latter part of the second half.

Paul Lunan, deployed as a centre back alongside Alan Campbell, came close with a diving header from a Craig McLeish corner four minutes into the second half, but Montrose finally took the lead on the hour mark, Martin Boyle scrambling the ball in at the far post from another McLeish corner.

Garry Wood doubled the lead six minutes later, shooting into the empty net after a mix-up between Locos keeper Stewart Gray and defender Steven Park.


Terry Masson completed the scoring 10 minutes from time, shooting into another empty net from a Wood square ball after Boyle had been flattened in the box.

Locos scored a late consolation, Souter sliding the ball through Wood's legs with two minutes remaining.

All in all, a good win for Montrose against a strong Locos side. There were a few hairy moments, but Montrose generally coped well. New signings Watson and McLeish both looked useful, the former deployed at left back and the latter in central midfield. Boyle, Masson and Lunan all played well, while McNally had his moments, despite a few lapses in concentration. Only Sandy Wood was truly disappointing, beaten easily for both Locos goals.

Man of the Match: As a member of the press corps, I was asked to vote for today's official man of the match award. I had been inclined to go with McLeish or Watson, both of whom looked useful, but in the run up to filling in the voting slip, Garry Wood was involved in two Montrose goals and came close after a mazy dribble. So he got my vote. And that of my Forfarian friend [best quote of today: "How much would you get for doing a linesman?"]. He was the only player to get two votes, and therefore became man of the match, much to his own bemusement and that of almost everyone else we encountered.

Would You Like Fries With That?

One of the things I hate most about our consumerist society is automated/scripted responses from front-line customer service staff.

During my lunch break today, I visited the Post Office and my bank.

Having paid for postage at the Post Office, I was asked: "Would you like to top up a mobile phone today?"

I don't have a pay as you go mobile phone. And if I did, I would probably top it up when I needed to, not when the Post Office gonk asked me.

This was in a busy Aberdeen city centre Post Office, with a huge queue of folk, presumably some of whom were there during their lunch breaks.

If this exchange takes five seconds per customer, even if the Post Office gonk is only serving one customer every five minutes, that's still a minute wasted every hour. Over an eight-hour day, that gonk could have served an additional 1.6 customers.

The elderly woman next to me was asked the same question: "Would you like to top up a mobile phone today?"

She may as well have been asked if she'd like to discombobulate her Higgs Boson particles. The gonk asked the question three times before giving up and assuming that the elderly lady didn't have a mobile phone in urgent need of top-uppery.

Then in the bank, having paid in some cash, I was asked if I had a mortgage, the bank gonk having presumably snooped through my account and noticed that if I did, it certainly wasn't with them.

"Yes, thank you" I replied.

"It's not with us, is it?"

"No, it's not"

"Would you like us to arrange an appointment to discuss our mortgage options with you?"

"No thank you"

I really do wish that gonks weren't forced to rattle off this sales spiel every time a customer crossed their path.

In a previous life, I worked in a call centre, and we had a scripted response when we answered a call: "Can I have your reference number please?"

[Customer searches for reference number, quotes their own phone number then their meter reading. Finally sources the reference number.]

"Thank you Mr McHughy. I see you have an outstanding balance of £23,675 on your account. Are you calling to pay that by debit card today?"

Cue Mr McHughy launching into an apopleptic fit during which he invents several new swearwords.

But my own personal favourite [and it is a favourite - it defied belief so much] was when I called T-Mobile to advise them I was leaving and would like my PAC code so I could transfer my number to a new provider.

"Hi, I'd like my PAC code please"

"OK, can I just ask why you're thinking of leaving us?"

"Because I've moved to Argyll and I don't get a T-Mobile signal in my house."

"It's just that, because you've been a long-term customer, we could offer you a good incentive to stay. We can offer 500 free minutes per month and 500 free texts."

"That sounds great, but unfortunately I wouldn't be able to use the free minutes or free texts as I have no T-Mobile signal in my house."

"Well, we could extend that to 750 minutes and 750 texts..."

"Which again sounds great, but unless you're also going to build a mast in my back garden, I'm afraid I'll still have to say no."

Modern society - I truly do despair sometimes...

Season 2012/2013: Match 1: Montrose 0 Brechin City 5 (Friendly)

Editor's note: Groanin' Jock couldn't be arsed going to the football today, so this report was written by Arthur C. McCrocklehurst, veteran reporter of The Angus and Lowlands Perthshire Tribune. The Angus and Lowlands Perthshire Tribune hasn't been published since 1897, but no-one has ever told Arthur.

It was a glorious summer's day, the day of Our Lord July the Fourteenth, Twenty-Hundred and One Dozen.

Alighting from the locomotive at Montrose Station, I ambled through the streets of the town to the association football venue near the Links parade ground and heathland.

Few of the Angus locals had thought to join me, distracted it would appear by the unseasonably warm weather and news of a fresh delivery of coal to the merchants in Aberlemno. But those who did count themselves spectators were suitably dour and miserable, so all was not lost.

This encounter brought together the scarlet-bedecked Brechin City, led by well-travelled administrator James Weir, and blue-clad Montrose, with former Brechin City goaltender Stuart Garden at the helm.

These past few campaigns have been short on vintage for the Montrose association football select, and nothing on view today would convince the casual observer that there will be any deviation from this state of affairs.

Those brave adventurers who travelled through the wilds of Dun and Pugeston to cheer on their brave Brechin boys were rewarded with five scores, Montrose summoning up none by way of counter.

Scott Dalziel, formerly of Bayview in the parish of Eastern Fife, contributed three of the goals added to the visiting tally. Two were recorded in the period prior to the refreshment interval, both from close range and under pressure.

Montrose summoned little and suggested less, with scarcely an attempt on goal registered. Kevin Browne, a newcomer to these parts, lofted a free kick over the hastily-assembled defensive constuct as the umpire prepared to close the half, but Michael Andrews, previously known in these parts, held the ball.

While it would be a falsehood to say that the heavens opened in the second half, some precipitation was recorded, though neither side was hindered, the playing surface being an artificial construct akin to a green scrubbing brush.

Brechin, relishing their visit to the seaside borough with its refreshing breeze, ice cream parlours and clothing emporiums, seemed envigoured, and promptly proceeded to contribute a further three goals to the official record.

Dalziel completed what is colloquially known as his 'hat-trick' with 20 minutes remaining on the chronometer. He was promptly replaced to what would have been a standing ovation had more than 23 paying customers been present.

Further goals were contributed by Paul McLean and Andy Jackson, Montrose's defensively-minded players having failed to return to the arena for the second period.

Only once did Montrose venture forward with sufficient menace to register an attempt on goal, but Andrews displayed enough alertness to concede only a corner from Garry Wood's shot.

Based on today's meeting, none of the Montrose athletes could be considered a threatening force in association football.

Martin Boyle, possessor of a mystical 'Ginger Boot' lacked the support of his colleagues, all of whom surrendered possession with scarcely a contest.

Stationed as I was in the grandstand (adjacent to one of the better Forfarian wenches), the involvement of Scott Johnstone (who bears the look of a human/woodpecker hybrid) passed me by completely. Also anonymous were the Montrose defensive unit. Only Stephen McNally seemed to realise that this encounter was taking place.

One fears that it will be a long and tempestuous campaign for Montrose, a collective short on skill, determination and hunger.

If the Sevco 5088 Wanderers are admitted to the Division III in this rotation of the sun, they will not fear a trip to the Montrose Links Park...

The Stone Roses, Heaton Park, Manchester, Saturday June 30, 2012

The first Stone Roses song I remember being aware of is Love Spreads. The lead single from their long-awaited second album was released when I was 14 and still truly to fall in love with music. But that song caught my ear even at that age, when it was played on the radio amongst the reggae pop, Take That and Wet Wet Wet.

But as with almost all music I heard at that age, it slipped from my memory when the radio playlists moved on to something else.

It wasn't until 1996 that I rediscovered The Stone Roses, by which time they'd finished dragging the sorry remains of their carcass around the festival circuit, a poor imitation of the band that had once had the world at their feet.

The first Stone Roses album I owned was The Complete Stone Roses, a compilation of their output on the Silvertone label that was a birthday present from my Mither. As introductions go, it was more than enough to ignite a love for the band that has never diminished in the intervening 16 years.

Shortly afterwards, I picked up from Groucho's in Dundee a second hand copy of The Second Coming, the album that transformed the Roses from jingly-jangly psychedelic pop gods into thunderous Zeppelin-inspired rock gods. It was John Squire's cocaine album, the riffs and egos coming between a group of four childhood friends and forming chasms that eventually shattered the greatest band of their generation.

So by the time I finally picked up a copy of The Stone Roses' debut album, from Woolworths in Dundee's Wellgate, I thought I knew everything there was to know about the band. Except I didn't. The Complete Stone Roses, while containing most of the tracks from that debut, included shortened, neutered versions of that debut album's monumental bookends, I Wanna Be Adored and I Am The Resurrection. It also missed out anti-monarchy lullaby Elizabeth My Dear and the laid-back groove of Shoot You Down.

This wasn't just a record. This was THE record. The world's most perfect record. When I am Grand High Poobah of The Whole World, I will insist everyone receives a copy with their birth certificate.

Since then, I've acquired various other Roses records - "lost" debut album Garage Flower, a shouty burst of punk-inspired Goth anger that barely hints at the band the Roses would blossom into; an almost unlistenable bootleg of the legendary Spike Island live show; the Turns Into Stone compilation that shoehorns together all of the Silvertone singles that didn't appear on the debut album; an ill-advised but passable remixes album from the turn of the century; various CD singles and live EPs; and, as my salary has grown as middle age approaches, the beautiful but expensive 20th anniversary edition of the debut - heavyweight vinyl, three CDs, a DVD and a lemon-shaped USB drive in a hefty presentation box.

My love for The Stone Roses has been one of the constants in my adult life, and until recently, so had one unbending certainty - The Stone Roses would never reform. The divisions between Ian Brown and John Squire, and between Reni and John Squire, were too wide. Brown was adamant that he didn't need the quitar player, that his solo work stood on its own two feet where Squire's was empty posturing and none-too-subtle ego-stroking. It was the first question asked in any interview with a former Rose - when would they return? And the answer was always the same - we won't.

That always seemed the best solution to me - I'd rather their reputation remained unsullied by an ill-judged money-grabbing reunion. Better to remain that tight-knit group of 20-somethings from the Blackpool Live DVD than four 50-year-olds milking the cash cow.

But at the same time, I always maintained that if they ever did reform, I'd be first in the queue for tickets.

All of which is a very lengthy preamble to the weekend just finished. I've driven 770 miles in a 2003 Renault Clio, from Montrose to Manchester and back again, via Falkirk and Newcastle in both directions. Given the chaos that the Biblical rains brought to the rail network over the weekend, it still appears to have been the better option.

Our gang of three decided to eschew the support acts - we weren't in Manchester to see Hollie Cook, The Wailers, Professor Green or Beady Eye. Our Saturday was devoted to one act and one act only.

Having attempted and failed to catch a tram to Heaton Park - not even standing room on the first tram we saw heading out on the Bury line from central Manchester, and then a line of trams heading for Oldham Mumps - we took a taxi to the venue, our cabbie giving us a list of what indie clubs we should head for after the show.

We caught the end of Beady Eye, who sounded just as flat as when we saw them at the Barrowlands last year. It's an indication of how far Liam Gallagher has fallen that people were standing in the car park drinking warm beer rather than rushing to catch his set. Even a rendition of Rock'n'Roll Star dedicated to Ian Brown, and a run through of Morning Glory, failed to ignite the crowd.

But from then on, we were in countdown mode. Barring a late, but by no means unlikely, disaster or falling out, we would be seeing The Stone Roses in the flesh.

I've rarely encountered such a peaceful atmosphere at a gig that size. We didn't bother attempting the crush for beer, but bumped into someone fresh from the bar queue who sold us four bottles of Fosters for £20. But everywhere you looked, people were smiling. Even as the crowd started thickening at the front of the stage, there seemed to be none of the aggression that would normally accompany the inevitable shoving.

When the Roses did appear on stage, there was no fanfare, no fireworks, no elaborate backing track. Just four men ambling on stage, picking up their instruments and bursting into I Wanna Be Adored. And from that second onwards, I was 16 again.

It was a near-perfect setlist. The only way it could have been bettered would have been by extending the gig by adding Elephant Stone, Tightrope, Driving South and Breaking Into Heaven. All of the songs from the debut album made an appearance:

I Wanna Be Adored
Mersey Paradise
(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister
Sally Cinnamon
Where Angels Play
Shoot You Down
Bye Bye Badman
Ten Storey Love Song
Standing Here
Fools Gold
Something's Burning
Waterfall
Don't Stop
Love Spreads
Made Of Stone
This Is The One
She Bangs The Drums
Elizabeth My Dear
I Am The Resurrection

Personal highlights were a roaring take on Fools Gold, a song I've never been too fussed by, but that on this showing gave the musicians a chance to shine; Waterfall and Don't Stop - the latter including some phenomenal bass runs from Mani; and the double header of Love Spreads and Made of Stone.

I hadn't long said to one of my mates that Squire hadn't really let the guitar rip when he howled into the opening riff of Love Spreads - that was a genuine goosebump moment. The song ended with Ian Brown rapping over the fade-out:

A pen and a paper, a stereo, a tape
All this with a nice big plate of
Fish, which is my favourite dish
But without no money it’s just a wish
Now I don’t have to dream about getting paid
I dig into the books of the rhymes I've made
I hit the studio and get paid in full

Sugar spun sisters outgoing the distance
Get me, I’m seeking some assistance
High in the realms tonight,
Sky-high like a meteorite
I’m easy like the holy ghost
Ain’t no voice, it’s just a toast
High in the realms tonight,
Sky-high like a meteorite

Stone Roses all the rage
Stone Roses up on the stage
Not a pause, down the doors
Let’s have a round of applause

The first verse is lifted from Eric B & Rakim's Paid In Full, but the rest is all Brown.

It was followed by Made of Stone, my all-time favourite Stone Roses song, and the one I've always thought has the best interplay between Mani and Squire.

Reni's drumming was ferocious throughout. If you'd taken away the rest of the band, it would still have been an absorbing show just watching him drum. It frequently sounded like he was playing live hip-hop rhythms. It's good to have him back.

Those were just my personal highlights, but there wasn't a weak spot at any point during the gig. The band's song and album titles lend themselves to plenty of cliched review titles: What The World Is Waiting For, This Is The One, I Am The Resurrection, Second Coming and so on.

But Ian Brown summed it up as the band stood centre stage post-gig: "We're back".

Firsts

My first cassette single:

My first cassette album:

My first CD single (two of the people on the cover are now dead, one has had a stroke):

My first CD album:

Rangers

I grew up a Rangers fan but I stopped going to Rangers games regularly when the SPL was formed and it became glaringly obvious that TV money and the influx of rubbish foreigners had ruined it as a sport.

Up until then, there was a faint belief that other clubs could challenge for titles – in the nine-in-a-row years, Celtic only finished second twice. But when it descended into “who can beat Dunfermline by the biggest margin?”, I rapidly lost interest. (That period also coincided with me starting university, so I had the women, gigs and pubs of Edinburgh to think about instead.)

I’ve heard others say that they just got sick of all the FTP/IRA crap, and didn’t want to take their kids into that kind of atmosphere. It’s something I’d be thinking seriously about over the next few years as well. £50 plus travel, food, programmes and all that gubbins to take my daughter to Ibrox, then have to explain who Bobby Sands was?

Or take her to Montrose on a free season ticket from her school and explain that while I don’t advocate her using the term “Smokey bastards” we do indeed hate Arbroath and she’s never to spend any time with boys from that tinky wee fishing village?

There will be some who have already turned their back on Rangers as this shitstorm has escalated, and while I don’t want to see Rangers die, it would do Scottish football good if some of the busloads of folk from all over Scotland just walked down the road to their local ground.

Right now I’m hoping that:

• Rangers are demoted to Division Three. Celtic fans can bleat on about it not being the same club, that the titles are revoked, whatever. It’ll always be the same club to me, and the titles I saw them win when I was a boy were won legally (so far as anyone knows). Rangers spent far more than the other clubs, but that’s no different to what Chelsea, Man City and PSG are doing elsewhere.
• If the SFA wants punishments to carry over to the new club, so be it. Take everything that is coming. If it’s 30-point deductions, transfer bans, whatever. Suck it up. You cheat, you run the risk of getting caught, you pay the price. Suck it up, do the time, come back with a clear conscience and build a good reputation.
• Rangers fans stop worrying about what Celtic are doing. They’ll win the league for the next 10 or 20 years. Bully for them. Their fans can whoop it up all they like, but surely they’ll all realise how hollow the victories are.
• The TV deal collapses. Good. Scottish football existed before TV, before live football on TV, before Sky. It’ll still exist if Sky walks away. If it means 11 young Scots booting fuck out of each other on the park because they want to play for the jersey, I’m all for it. I’ve got a Sky subscription, and I hardly ever watch Scottish football on it, because the quality is so poor and there’s clearly no real passion.

The SFA/SPL/SFL has been handed a once in a generation chance to fix Scottish football. The onus now is on them not to fuck it up.

Justice

Gary Cahill now has more European Cup winner's medals than Pele, Maradona, Bergkamp, Cantona, Batistuta, Gascoigne, Romario, Baggio and Ronaldo combined.

If anything is evidence that there's no such thing as a fair and loving God, surely that's it.

I Want This Sitting Room...

The Groanin' Jock Montrose FC Player of the Year Award 2011/2012

It's that time of the year again when I look back at the season just finished (for Montrose at least) and determine who is the Groanin' Jock Player of the Year.

It's a systematic process - whoever has been my man of the match most often this season scoops the prize.*

So without any further ado (actually, I don't think there's any ado at all), here are the results:

Martin Boyle 3
Terry Masson 3
Steven McPhee 2
Dougie Cameron 2
Jamie Winter 2
Saaaaaandy Wood 1
Sean Pierce 1
Scott Johnston 1
Garry Wood 1
Michael Andrews 1
Paul Lunan 1

For the second consecutive year, we have a tie, and for the second consecutive year Martin Boyle is in joint first place, this time with Terry Masson.

It would be tough to pick between the two. Up until the last game of the season, Masson would have had my vote as player of the year, with a cracking season in the middle of the park, doing more than his fair share of the donkey work while Jamie Winter fired in the goals. Masson also chipped in with a few goals himself, and they were typically zingers.

But then Martin Boyle went and grabbed a last day hat-trick, securing the Ginger Boot in the process. He's already a cracking wee goalscorer, and frighteningly he still misses more chances than he scores. If he continues to develop as quickly as he has done in a Montrose shirt, he'll be live on Sky every weekend before too long.

It's genuinely a tough call, but as it's probably the last time I'll have the opportunity, Martin Boyle is once again the Groanin' Jock Montrose FC Player of the Year.

Notable absentees from the list above? Stephen McNally was probably Montrose's best player last year, but has suffered a terrible dip in form this time around, partly through being played at right back for most of the campaign. He's much better driving the team forward from midfield, and hopefully we can see him back to his best next season.

Less of a shock is the absence of Jonathan "Pob" Beckenbauer Smart. In his own head he's light years ahead of his peers, but four red cards, three of them before the end of August, only hint at the disastrous time he's had at Links Park.

(According to his Twitter account, it's the plastic pitch that's at fault, not him.)

I can't imagine too many of the Montrose faithful will shed a tear at his departure. Farewell Pob.

I've never been convinced by Jonathan Crawford either, and he has a lot of work to do to convince me that he's the answer to any of Montrose's problems. There are no positions in which Montrose don't already have someone better, but as a jack of all trades, I suppose he's decent backup.

And finally, I can't end the season without noting that Dougie "Kneeheid" Cameron was my man of the match twice in the space of three matches. On his day, Dougie has the potential to be Montrose's best player. But he needs to be more disciplined in his positioning, as he has a tendency to go walkabout in the last 20 minutes of a match.

With that, I'll sign off for another season, looking forward to next year's post-Boyle campaign under Stuart Garden/Ralph Brand/Ally McCoist/Andre Villas Boas.

*There is no prize

Whiskers On Kittens

A few more of my favourite things.

The bridge/coda from Razorlight's "In The Morning" (from about 3:05 in the video below)

The smell of newly-cut grass on a hot, still, summer's day.

John Frusciante's backing vocals on "Can't Stop":

Baby Girl's giggle

The rumble from my surround sound system at the start of an action movie.

Extra large hoodies.

Season 2011/2012: Match 22: Montrose 5 Clyde 0 (Irn-Bru Division Three)

This is The End...beautiful friend, The End...

(I'm writing this through a semi-hungover fog, so apologies for inconsistencies, errors, poor spelling, lack of grammar and general shitness).

Last season I made it to 21 matches, this season it was 22, thanks in part to work trips to the big smoke.

At least this season it ended on a high, unlike last year when a few hardy souls watched several Montrose players end their careers in a 4-0 Hampden hiding.

One year on, a few Montrose players, and possibly the manager, called time on their Links Park days with a resounding stroll in the sunshine against a woeful Clyde side.

Martin Boyle blasted his way to the Ginger Boot with a hat-trick, Terry Masson grabbed a goal with a cracking drive and even Alan Campbell got on the scoresheet with a header.

The strangest thing about the match wasn't the centre back getting on the scoresheet then managing to reach his own half in time for the restart, but the choice of pre-match music, which seemed to be a dance compilation from 1993. Brilliantly, it included Technohead's "I Want To Be A Hippy" (I want to be a hippy and I want to get stoned on mari - marijuana).

The local football club advocating the use of Class C drugs? It might take the edge off the performances of Messrs Smart and Cameron anyway...

...except Jonathan Smart didn't even make the team, relegated to the bench alongside Scott Johnston, with Jamie Winter missing out through injury.

The substitutes took part in an impromptu penalty shoot-out at half time, Johnston demonstrating a decent ability between the sticks. And if the players had shown as much effort in the preceding 35 matches of the season as they did during that kick-about, maybe yesterday's match wouldn't have been a chase for eighth place in the league...

Frustratingly, Montrose saved their best performance of the season for the last day of the season, absolutely ripping Clyde to pieces. All of the players selected played well, and there was a drive, hunger and most notably, an assurance that has been missing all too often this season.

Hopefully the core of the side sticks together for next season's push further up the table. I'd definitely like to see Winter, Boyle, Masson, McNally, Young, Lunan, Johnston and both Woods hang around, not to mention Dougie Cameron and Alan Campbell if they can play like they did yesterday more often.

From bottom of the table last season to eighth this year - Montrose are on the up...

If Ray Farningham, as expected, does leave to return to Dundee as assistant manager, I'd be keen to see Stuart Garden move into the hotseat. Otherwise, maybe Ralph Brand would be worth a punt?

Man of the Match: Inevitably, on the day he made sure of the top goalscorer award and scooped six trophies at the end of season bash, Martin Boyle is man of the match. A tremendous hat-trick, including a rare header, if yesterday proves to be Boyler's last match in a Montrose shirt, he went out on a high. He was the first among equals though, with the whole side deserving of praise, particularly Stephen McNally, Lloyd Young and Terry Masson.

"A Good Product Which Does What It Says"

A colleague forwarded this link to me, and I've spent the last 20 minutes crying with laughter at my desk, much to the alarm of those sitting near me.

The reviews on this Amazon product page are comedy gold.

Speccy Bastard

Apparently the ZX Spectrum is 30 years old.

That makes me feel very old. I think the Spectrum was the third computer/games console I laid fingers on. The first was a BBC Microcomputer at primary school, and the second was an Atari 2600 (I think) owned by a friend. That was also the first time I played a game involving the Super Mario Brothers.

The same friend and his older brother also had a ZX Spectrum, and I remember watching them in 1987, sitting for what seemed like hours programming in a BASIC game. It was distinctly underwhelming.

It's almost strange that in today's modern society you can take computer classes for programming now.

But by 1988/89, I was desperate for a computer of my own, and Mither and Faither (or Santa Claus anyway) very generously bought Baby Brother and I a ZX Spectrum +3. Not only did the +3 boast 128k of RAM, but it had a built-in floppy disk drive, which was a revelation in the tape-dominated home computer market.

I actually broke our first Spectrum on Xmas Day, jamming the power cable into the back of the computer upside down and bending all the pins.

But we got a replacement, complete with a disk of six games that I still love to this day:

• Gift From The Gods - based on Greek mythology, you float around a sprawling underground maze attempting to find stones that will unlock a gate.

• NOMAD  - An armoured droid (NOMAD stands for something something Mobile Attack Droid) batters around a spaceship shooting stuff.

•  Mailstrom - You play a postman in a post-apocalyptic England. Deliver the letters and futuristic violence. Dark humor persists.

•  Daley Thomson's SuperTest - Follow up to Daley Thomson's Decathlon, the sports were more obscure, but the button-bashing was just as fun.

Those games would comfortably run on a modern mobile phone. But at the time, they were cutting-edge. Games on the Spectrum generally had very high playability - they had to, as the graphics and sound were so weak.

Days spent playing Chucky Egg, Dizzy, Footballer of the Year, the games above and hundreds of others are amongst the happiest memories from my childhood.

And now I've found all of the games above on an emulator site. That's my weekend sorted...

Dances In The Sand

In a week's time, I'll be here...

Not that I'm excited or anything...