Scotland Writers FC 4-2 England Writers FC: Prose In Motion

Writers’ Football teams are a newish initiative. The first tournament was in 2005, and featured Germany, Hungary, Sweden and the home team, Italy, all playing each other. England Writers FC have been playing together for 6 years now, and their captain is David Goldie, a Scotsman who had no Scottish team to play for. This was because Scotland, at the time of their inaugural match, had been playing together for exactly one week. Goldie chose to stay with the England team for the game.

The match was played on 1 December 2012, at the West of Scotland Cricket Club in Partick. This was a significant location, because it was where the first ever international football match – again Scotland vs England – was played, on the 30 November 1872. Or put another way, the (almost) 140-year anniversary of this match. No pressure there then. It was set up to be a memorable occasion, but nobody told the weather, and the pitch was glazed over with frost so thick in places that boots audibly clacked across it. The sky was clear, but this meant that the sun shone directly into the players’ eyes if they looked to one side. Given their familiarity with poor playing conditions, Scotland decided to take the bad weather as a good sign.

The match started with England in the ascendancy though, with a couple of early attacks worrying Scotland, if not particularly troubling the goal. England’s experience of playing together showed, especially at any set pieces, be they Scottish goal kicks, or just throw-ins. When Scotland began stringing attacks together though, they started probing around England’s penalty box, and a set piece went Scotland’s way as a penalty was awarded for a push on a Scotland player – especially nasty on the ice. Allan Wilson tucked it away handily, for 1-0.

1-0 is always a shaky lead though, especially from a penalty, so it was handy that Scotland doubled their lead minutes later. And again, it was from a set piece, a cleverly worked corner as Christopher Brookmyre crossed for Mark Buckland to head the ball on, to Dougie McGregor who nodded it in at the near post. 2-0, and Scotland were in their element, even if that element was ice.

Then came an… interesting… moment. Scotland’s James Grant fed the ball into the centre of England’s box, to a waiting Scottish striker, who flicked the ball up, then lashed it. This turned into more of a slice, but still looped towards the England goal, floating beautifully into the top right hand corner past the outstretched hands of goalkeeper Graham Joyce. Was it deliberate? Well, given the historical precedent for ball juggling against England (Jim Baxter) and recent precedent for audacious lobs against them (Zlatan Ibrahimovic), this goal can be considered an artful, beautifully designed mash-up of the two. And I know, because it was me who scored it. 3-0, and still the first half.

England did get one solid chance to pull one back near half time, when they were (possibly softly) awarded a penalty for handball in the box. England’s David Goldie became Scottish again when he pulled it wide of the post.

Half-time felt good in the Scottish technical area (the side of the pitch), but the second half was to prove more difficult. With the sun now higher, and more blinding, Scotland struggled to work the ball towards the opposition goal, while England committed more men forward through necessity. A series of scrappy attacks paid off when Staheli’s shot rebounded to Joe Dunthorne, who glanced the ball in with his hand. The referee then adjudged this to be his hip. Whatever, 3-1, Scotland still with a reasonably comfortable lead. But things got far more precarious a minute later, when Dunthorne’s corner was headed in by Oltermann. Scotland were kicking themselves that they hadn’t cleared the ball, but England didn’t help themselves by over-celebrating the goal.

Scotland dug in, and were soon repelling England handily again, with the duo of Roland Gulliver and Craig Lamont gelling particularly well in central defence. Still pushing men forward, England were inevitably robbed of the ball which was played through for Dougie McGregor, who had a clear run at goal. He coolly slotted past the keeper for 4-2, and with only minutes left, the game was effectively over. The final whistle blew, and all that was left to do was for Scotland to pick up the inaugural Hamilton Crescent cup. It should be said that the game was consistently good fun, with no bookings, and the England team were good losers. They’re already looking forward to a rematch, I’m told. “Could you look any more smug?” they joked as we posed for a photo with the cup. We tried, but we really, really couldn't. 

ENGLAND TEAM: Joyce, Sutcliffe, Goldie (c), Tatarsky, Laity, Taylor, Simons, Taylor, Dunthorne, Oltermann, von Bayer, Williams, Brusey, Staheli (Includes substitutes).

Scorers: Dunthorne, Oltermann.

SCOTLAND TEAM: Weir, Searle, Gulliver, Lamont, Buckland, Brookmyre, Letford, Johnstone, Wilson, McGregor, Williamson, Fitt, Grant, Braidwood, Hind

Scorers: Wilson, McGregor, Hind, McGregor.

The above is only the second best match report. The best is the poem Matthew Fitt wrote to commemorate the game. Here it is:

Scotland Writers 1st December 2012, Glesga

Scots wha hae wi Wilson skited,
Scots wham Weir got aw excited,
Oan a pitch the froast had whited
They played for their countrie.

For the Hamilton Crescent Cup,
A team fae England had come up
Tae gie the Scotties' lugs a clup
And teach humilitie.

Tho the Scots hadna played afore,
Ye wadna ken it fae the score –
The gemme feenished twa goals tae four
And Scotland bore the gree.

The scorers skittered oan the ice,
A Wilson spot kick, Keir Hind's slice
McGregor banged the baw in twice –
A famous victorie.

Men that thocht they couldnae run
Never dreamed they'd hae such fun
At the West o Scotland Cricket Grun –
A Grand Anniversarie.

Makars, poets, booky folk,
This Scotland team is no nae joke.
It's awready cowped the English oak,
Oor auldest enemie.

Sae Germans, Swedes or Japanese,
Israelis, Poles and Portuguese,
We'll meet ye onywhere ye please
And we wull gie it laldie.

[Matthew Fitt]