Alex Gray - Pitch Black

Maggie gave her husband a quizzical glance but he just grinned back, his spirits lifted by the familiar sounds. This was par for the course, after all, at an away game. He looked down, noting a white metal gate set near the mouth of the tunnel, bearing the club’s familiar insignia of laurel leaves and the date of its inception, 1893. Further along, the advertising hoardings displayed the name of a local blacksmith specialising in wrought ironwork and Lorimer nodded to himself, making the connection. Now the players and match officials were on the pitch, the latter wearing bright turquoise strips to differentiate them from the players’ more sombre colours.

‘And you can hear the sound that reverberates down the tunnel and that familiar anthem of theirs sung with passion and expectation,’ the commentator insisted. ‘Now we’re just moments away from kick-off. Looking at today’s team it seems very much that Ron Clark has decided to play a three-three-four formation. Referee is looking at his watch and yes! The ball is way up into Kelvin’s half and Farraday is chasing after it…’

Lorimer glanced at Maggie. Her cheeks were flushed with the sun and she seemed to be enjoying the atmosphere. It wasn’t often he had the chance to combine work and home, he thought ruefully. They’d go for a decent meal afterwards, maybe even drive over to St Andrews. He watched as the ball sailed off the boot of Farraday, the Dundee striker, and passed within inches of the goal. A huge ‘Ohhh!’ went up, then chants of ‘Easy, easy, easy!’ came from the Dundee fans. Lorimer nodded. Farraday’s shot hadn’t been too far off. Kelvin’s defence would have their work cut out if the striker was on form today.

‘And now Gemmell has passed to Devitt who beats Baz Thomson — Thomson, you remember, who made that terrible error last season, saw Kelvin relegated — now it’s picked up by Sweeney who passes back to Friedl, ball’s played down the middle … oh, too long for McKinnery. And Dundee keeper O’Hagan kicks it back up the field. Now Morgan is sprinting for the ball but the whistle goes and Kelvin take possession once more.’

Maggie followed Thomson’s progress as he passed under their view, heard the thwack of boot on leather then joined in the groans around her as he lost the ball in a hard tackle. Dundee’s dark blue jerseys seemed to outnumber the opposing team’s black-and-white and she found herself counting the players in each team just to make sure. Bill had told her on the drive up that Kelvin had not beaten Dundee at home in any of their Scottish cup ties. Ever. It seemed an astonishing statistic, especially when Kelvin had reached the ranks of the Scottish Premier League when Dundee had still been languishing in the first division. Football was a funny game and she doubted that she could ever have the same passion for a team that all these fans seemed to feel. Round about her, the expressions of the Kelvin fans showed a determination bordering on fanaticism as they watched the players move back and forwards. Had the killings been the work of some obsessed fan? Maggie gave a shudder, wondering what sort of personalities lay behind these faces. Her eyes strayed back to the perimeter of the pitch where a linesman was directing his lime-and-orange chequered flag towards Kelvin’s half.

‘Now the whistle goes and Sweeney takes the free kick, sending the ball across to Rientjes who runs with the ball, passes it to Thomson, back to Sweeney, away to McKinnery who can’t quite make it and it’s a throw-in to Dundee. Kelvin need to keep possession of the ball, make more of their chances, if they are to have any hopes of regaining their Premier League status this season. Dundee is their Achilles heel, of course. They’ve never beaten a team at Dens Park. Can they defeat these odds today? Now Dundee’s Farraday is screaming for the ball. He’s onside and Gemmell is moving forward, opens up the middle of the field, quick shimmy to Devitt and — oh! A lovely little one-two, outwitting Rientjes, and Farraday has the ball at his feet and he drives it … Oh! What a shot! Just hit the post! The Dundee striker has shown an early determination and I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t open Dundee’s account soon.’

‘What’s the referee stopping them for?’ Maggie asked.

‘Offside,’ Lorimer told her briefly, eyes on the pitch.

‘Rubbish!’ snorted the Kelvin fan at his side, overhearing them.

Lorimer didn’t respond. There was no way he was going to let himself be drawn into an argument with a belligerent Keelie. Nor did he feel like stopping to explain the offside rule to Maggie. The Dundee striker had the ball at his feet once more and, illuminated by the silver light of camera flashes, he took his second shot, but Carmichael threw his body sideways, his punch sending the ball out of play. Lorimer joined in the clapping, nodding approval of the Kelvin keeper’s save, but anxious too for the corner kick that it gave to the home team. There was a scramble for the ball and it see-sawed between opposing players until Carmichael scooped it up once more with a massive kick that sent it way into Dundee’s half.

‘Fancy a pie and Bovril?’ he asked Maggie.

She wrinkled up her nose, but then laughed. ‘Och, go on, why not. Show a girl a good time, why don’t you?’

Lorimer squeezed past the spectators in his row, then headed for the stairs that would take him to the catering stalls behind the stand. It wasn’t quite half-time but, going now, he’d avoid the rush. Besides, he had a notion to check out the directors’ area, see who had come across from Glasgow to watch their team today.

Maggie Lorimer listened to the chat behind her. The teams had disappeared back into the bowels of the stadium following the referee’s half-time whistle and she was being entertained not only by the Seventies music blaring from the loudspeaker system but also by snatches of dialogue from Kelvin supporters.

‘Rubbish game. Whit’s Clark no playin Thomson up front fur? Can he no see the wee man’s gaggin fur the ba?’

‘Aye, like he was against Queen of the South?’ came the dry response. ‘D’ye no think he’s bein a bit cannier today? Mean, he disnae lose out on a league match efter bein red-carded, but he’ll need tae watch hisself, know whit ah mean?’

But Barry Thomson’s fate at the hands of his two erstwhile critics was silenced as the fans moved out of earshot just as Lorimer arrived bearing a grey cardboard carton full of half-time treats.

Maggie had no sooner finished the scalding cup of Bovril than the players were back on to the pitch and she glanced from left to right, familiarising herself with the change of ends.

‘Yes, it looks as if Celtic are making a play for Hammond. Taking him on a loan basis if they can. After he scored that vital goal against Kelvin last season,’ the radio commentator continued. ‘But, back to today’s game against Dundee. And it’s a magnificent day here at Dens Park, sun splitting the stones. Great turnout too, and despite the nil-nil score-line the fans seem to be enjoying this game. Kelvin haven’t really shown any great pace today — one wonders if recent events have any bearing on the players’ morale — and question marks remain about their defensive capabilities, though I must say that was a cracking save from Gordon Carmichael to deny Farraday the opening goal. Now we’re into the second half and let’s see if the home side can capitalise on their excellent start. No goals so far, if you’ve just joined us, but this Dundee side have entertained us for the first forty-five minutes with some great football. And Sweeney kicks the ball high into the air, it comes down on to the head of Clark who passes it to Friedl. Now the mid-fielder takes it steady, tip-toeing it forward, but there’s a terrific challenge by Morgan, typical of him, then he passes it down the line, taken by Knight — not seen too much of the ball this afternoon — but Knight sends it down to Morgan … a terrific pass, but Morgan couldn’t quite control the top spin and the ball’s gone out of play…’