New season dawns grey - Montrose vs Kelty Hearts

Montrose is an odd place. It is both genteel and hard faced. It's got a seaside feel but it's definitely also a port. It feels like it might have once been grand but that some time ago everyone stopped coming. I'd describe it as a mash up of Southport, Cleveleys but with a heavy air of Fleetwood at the same time. There's a hotel (closed) that advertises 'Luncheons.' I consider using the word in my everyday speech just to bring a bit of the 1950s into the world. I wonder when society decided that the 'eon' was disposable. Probably around the time people stopped using 'ruddy' as as a curse. Anyway. It's past luncheon and time for fitba.

Links Park is quite a lot of breezeblocks. There is a seal in shoes so big he can't walk very fast. In the pre match mascot kick about he looks worried his head might fall off. He has an aura of depressed resignation. Whether it's the prospects of Montrose, the prospects of warming oceans or a combination of both, it's hard to say but the seal seems sad.

One of my favourite things about fitba is that when you get to a certain level some of the players look like real people. One of the Montrose lads suspiciously like he has a comb over. Another is decidedly big boned and loses all the shuttle runs by a margin.

Up the other end Kelty Hearts who I assume are named in tribute to yer actual Hearts look a bit leaner and fitter. A Montrose player shanks his warm up shot. "fuckin hell, pish!!!" he castigates himself. The bloke behind me is incandescent with the manager "why the fuck has he picked Watson?'

The fella in front of me has treated himself to two pies, one in each hand.. He spends the first half in silence eating them in small bites with a metronomic rhythm. It's quite hypnotic.

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Montrose start well. They look neat enough. Watson it turns out is the lad with the comb over. I pretend he's Bobby Charlton and actually, it's not a ridiculous comparison. He spread a great pass several times, he's neat and clever with short balls and gets on the end of things twice as well. Montrose have a fleet footed forward who several times outruns Kelty's backline. Each time he makes the wrong choice or perhaps doesn't really have a choice because the Mighty Mo don't get anyone up with him.

The no 9 who had the warm up melt down misses a chance. He lets fly more self loathing. The fella behind me is a fair judge of the game. "He's had stinker, but aye, Watson has been the best player"

As the half progresses Kelty come into it more. They're largely limited to shots from distance but Montrose efforts are few and far between.

The most entertaining aspect of this period is the attempt by one fella to get the crowd going by chanting a non stop stream of songs, which bleed one into the other, sometimes switching half way through. Some praise the players, some declare hatred for Arbroath, but my favourite is "we hate 0-0, we hate 0-0" repeated for ages and followed up by "give us one! Just one!" At no point does anyone even half consider joining in with him. He is undeterred.

There's a gaggle of kids in the far corner. They have a drum. I'm not sure any of them know how to play it. Samba football it is not. Samba drumming it is neither. For no discernable reason the stewards take umbridge with the kids. "Leave thae kids alone aye!" bellows the otherwise silent man in front of me.

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0-0

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The open plan nature of Links Park stretches to allowing fans to walk freely round all four sides of the ground. The year 8 ultras head off behind the opposite goal to occasionally offer further unsteady percussive support. I decide to stand on the halfway line. I rarely sit on the side and whenever I do, I'm always struck by the fact the pitch looks much shorter.

This half is marked by a sense of injustice. The big angry forward has turn his rage outward now, berating the linesman with a force and persistence that quite endears him to me. Montrose then score from a corner but it's ruled out for a push on the keeper and there's howls of injustice.

Again, after a bright start, Kelty come into it and soon they're ahead. No one stands out for them, but they're compact and organised and can move the ball quite quickly. The first goal comes by driving at the Montrose defence but rather than any great skill or team play, it's a calamitous series of misskicks, airkicls and Montrose defenders falling over that presents them the ball on a plate.

There's an instant response. A few subs including sadly, the excellent (and 37 year old) Watson leaving the pitch. I'm glad that in 2023 there's still room for a comb over. Montrose have by far their best move, spinning it down the left, exchanging passes and cutting it to the edge of the box for the angry striker who wriggles some space and crashes an excellent effort against the post. More anger.

Kelty bring on a sub. Whenever I watch Scottish games, there's always a player who's played for loads of clubs (so you'd imagine he'd be shit) but who looks really good and leaves me wondering why he's played at this level for so long. Botti Biabi is this games' man. He's had a peripatetic career, including Swansea, Falkirk, Ebbsfleet, Brechin and is in his second Kelty spell and on 70 mins he's backing into his man, and dragging the ball with him before scooping it, spinning and running onto his own touch. It's absolutely brilliant and leaves the Montrose defender baffled. It's a touch from a game at a different level. The line between what is and what could have been is rizla thin.

There's an inevitability to the second goal which is swept home by Biabi. The ultras troop out singing 'we're going down' which given as it's the first noise from the crowd other than "fucking hell ref" kind of sums up the fatalism that must be bred by watching windswept football far from the glamour infused elite. The softly spoken fella to the side of me is less expressive but mutters something rueful about Montrose looking 'mair like Dad's bloody Army than a fitba team'

The remaining minutes pass with what I think is the Kelty directors (a tight knit group at the centre of the main stand) celebrating wildly when ever there's a throw in. I think they're playing the outstanding game of 'pass the money down the row whenever the ball goes out of play and whoever holds it at the final whistle wins" - a game that is deeply underated and possibly better than football itself.

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We're done. Montrose were a wee bit (I've gone native) hard done by but I'd be surprised if they have a great season. I could be wrong, I often am.

I'm off. Into the town. It's grey.

It often is.

Normal service will resume shortly.

Onward!

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