4th April 1998
As usual when driving up to Aberdeen (or beyond), I totally underestimated the time it takes to get there. It’s that bit of the A90 from Forfar to Aberdeen itself which seems to go on forever which always catches me out.
As it did today - the consequence being I spent the thirty minutes prior to the match crawling along through Aberdeen’s interminable road system, swearing and sweating profusely in equal measures. I did make the ground, however, with seconds to spare before kick-off.
As it did today - the consequence being I spent the thirty minutes prior to the match crawling along through Aberdeen’s interminable road system, swearing and sweating profusely in equal measures. I did make the ground, however, with seconds to spare before kick-off.
With no time for my usual perambulation of the stadium, I plumped for the Richard Donald Stand – the massive edifice at the shore end of the ground. Opened in 1993, and although impressive when full, it does give Pittodrie a distinctly lop-sided look. As Shrek might have said “Do you think somebody is compensating for something?"
The rear of the priapic Richard Donald Stand. |
As with the previous occasion I saw St Johnstone play (at Dunfermline ), this match was fought out in near monsoon conditions. And once again, the Perth Saintees fashioned a 1-0 away win by being more prepared than their hosts to adapt to the conditions. It was the shaven-headed Irishman George O’BOYLE who scored the decisive goal this time around, neatly guiding a cut-back from fellow countryman Gerry McMahon past Jim Leighton in the home goal.
Upon reaching the car after the game I heard that Hearts, despite being completely outplayed by all accounts, had just defeated Falkirk to reach the Scottish Cup final. A clearly disconsolate Man-of-the Match Falkirk’s Kevin “Crunchie” McAllister was being interviewed by some tactless clod on Radio Scotland , who opened the interview with “Kevin, does being named man-of-the-match in some way compensate for failing to reach the Cup Final?”
Plainly having not read the script, Crunchie’s brutally honest snarl “Yir joking, aren’t ye?”, brought a smile to my face and put the smarmy little BBC oik in his place.
Plainly having not read the script, Crunchie’s brutally honest snarl “Yir joking, aren’t ye?”, brought a smile to my face and put the smarmy little BBC oik in his place.
Panorama of Pittodrie Stadium, Aberdeen. |
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