Emma's kindly offered to drop me off at my dads house as she's off to her mothers house for the afternoon. I arrive at my dads with plenty of time to spare and I'm just in the door when my mother offers me a cup of tea and biscuit. Cheers mum. She's not slow on giving me a clip round the ear however for having the nerve to take on of the plain chocolate digestive biscuits from the tin. Turns out these are special biscuits only for consumption by her two year old grandson (my nephew) Max. He's two year old and already she's buying him his own biscuits.
My dad and I leave the house just after 1pm for the drive over to Falkirk. My dad wants to make sure he can get somewhere close to the ground to park. With no traffic and the dulcet tones of Tam & Stuart in the background the drive over takes no time at all and we find said parking space by 2pm. It's still a wee bit cold outside so we enjoy the warmth of the car until twenty past.
On the wander over we pass a take the opportunity to go for something a little bit different with the pre match photo. There is a huge flooded grassy area about 500 yards from the ground, we've passed it on our way to Stenny & The 'Shire in the last month or so. The first time was in deepest winter and it was no more then a field covered in snow, the second time it was a huge ice rink and now it's practically a Loch. It's even got three resident swans!
Earlier in the week Steve, a friend of mine from my travels, called to say he was up in Scotland for a wedding and would be here for a week or so and could we meet up. It was a delight to welcome him and his friend Tom to our house on Thursday night. I first met Steve in Australia six or seven years ago when we stayed at the Nimbin Rox YHA. When him and Tom were leaving I happened to mention the Falkirk game and if they were up for it. Turns out Tom lives just up the road from Falkirk near Airth Castle.
We meet up with the two of them just outside the ground and after I've introduced them to my dad we make our way to the Club shop to buy our tickets, Falkirk have taken the automated turnstiles approach with their new ground. We couldn't get four seats together but feel quietly confident that the game won't be a sell out and we'll manage just fine.
We find four seats, two of which are reserved for season ticket holders and hope for the best. I leave Steve and Tom with my dad and nip off for the pre match pie. When I get to the booth I notice a pie is £1.90, another extortionate price, I buy two . The young fella senses something isn't quite right and then offers his apology for the price but goes ahead and takes my money
anyway.
The pie itself merits a pass mark from my dad although he takes points off for its greasy bottom and dry crust offering.
Just before the teams run out we are entertained by The Falkirk Vixens, cheerleaders to you and me. The perform a routine set to Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Two Tribes and then disappear back up the tunnel to retrieve their pom poms before returning to welcome the two sides on to the pitch.
The game kick's off and it's fairly dire for the opening ten minutes until a horror back pass by Morton player Darren Young played in Falkirk's Carl Finnegan. He had time and space to pick his shot but instead he smashed a shot high over the bar. The home fans are raging and one boy behind yells that his granny could have scored that.
Marc Smith became the first player to be booked after a wild lunge at Falkirk's Twaddle.
It was a further ten minutes before the next shot on goal and this time it was a weak effort from 25 yards which the Morton keeper Colin Stewart somehow managed to fumble round the post for a corner. He almost managed to look like an English international keeper there.
It was more than half way through the first forty five minutes before Morton had their first goal mouth action but his volley sailed well over. The chances came thick and fast for Morton as Olejnik tipped a Monti free kick past the post and then got down well to save from a Weatherston free kick.
The home fans grew restless and the fella behind us had the worst language I've heard on the journey so far. I swear every second word was fu*king. He sounded like he was in his 60's at least but when I turned around he was maybe a year or two younger than me. All that swearing has aged his voice thirty odd years.
Falkirks winger Compton skipped pass two defenders and floated a great ball into the middle, where from five yards out, Finnegan wasted another glorious effort by heading wide five minutes before the break.
On the stroke of half time Allan Jenkins tried an sideways scissor kick from a flicked on corner and Olejnik managed to push it past the post.
Half time came and went with Tom & I making another vist to the refreshment booth. I went with the Scotch pie, whilst Tom tried the steak variety.
In the opening minutes of the second half Moutinho hit a shot into the ground that bounced up, hit the crossbar and went over. A flurry of corners were won by the home side but they still couldn't find the break through.
Ryan Flynn came into the game more and more and the tricky winger tore down the left wing before hitting a great cross into the box, unfortuantely there were no Falkirk strikers willing to attack the ball and it bounced harmlessly along the six yard bos to safety.
Compton went closest for Falkirk after skipping in from the right wing on his left foot, he beat two defenders before firing a shot at goal that Stewart did well to tip past the post.
With twenty or so minutes Greenock pressed the self destruct button.
Firstly Monti clattered into Compton in what was a really rash challenge. The Falkirk players were raging and ran towards the Morton player, his team mates responded by rushing at the Falkirk players. It eventually took an intervention by both linesman to bring things under control. The outcome of this was that Monti was shown a straight red card by referee David Somers and Mark Millar of Falkirk was shown a yellow.
Two minutes later and Morton were reduced to nine men when Marc Smyth was shown a second yellow after another crude challenge.
Surely now Falkirk would press home their advantage. Fans all around us were screaming at Elvis, the Falkirk manager, to switch things up and throw on more attackers. Pressley was unmoved.
Falkirk's play was all too narrow and winger Compton found himself lost and all alone on the touch line. The whole crowd could see he was the man to play in but more often than not he was left to spectate rather than participate in the action.
Pressley threw on Marc Stewart with eleven minutes left. He'll claim this was an inspired moment of managerial know-how as Stewart scored the opening goal with almost his first touch of the ball. Compton sent a corner into the box and at the back post Stewart was unmarked to side foot it in from six yards.
This goal may just have saved Pressley. Moments before the fans beside us had started to shout for the return of Yogi Hughes to the managerial hot spot.
The excitement wasn't over yet though as referee Somers had his red card out again in the final minutes when Mark Millar received his second yellow card for an unbelievably stupid foul. Deep inside the opposition half he blantly body checked a Morton player and left the ref with no other option. The fans beside us hurl abuse at Millar as he makes his way off the pitch. The sweary boy beside us might just explode with rage as he screams at him for being so bloody stupid.
Luckily for him Falkirk emerge victorious and move nearer the top of the table.
The game is summed up brilliantly by a Falkirk fan sat behind us as he states: Three sending offs, seven bookings and absolutely nae football played.
Falkirk are now only seven points off the top spot with a game in hand. I for one will be wishing that Raith or Dunfermline manage to stay ahead on the final day so that the home side stay in Division 1 as they don't deserve to get promoted on this or any of the performances we've seen this season.
Next week my dad and I will be guests of Stirling Albion Football Club and we will be sampling the pre match hospitality on show with my brother-in-law, Alan, before settling down to watch them hump Dundee. Cannae wait.
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